Inanimate Rage and You.

Alright, the title may be misleading.  It's really about Inanimate Rage and Me, but it sounded more professional and official using the word You.  At least, in my mind, which is really all that matters.

I have an anger problem.  I do not start fights with humans.  I am not that confrontational, and refrain from physical scuffles whenever possible.  I tend to attempt a verbal diffusion in fight situations, and if that doesn't work I (a) curl up into a ball and whimper, or (b) allow one of my more physically inclined and close to insane friends to take on an aggressor in my stead.  It has worked so far, as I have not been in a fight, nor do I intend to get into one.

When it comes to inanimate objects, I do not have such reserve.  Inanimate objects produce obscene rage that I end up punching walls, breaking things, hitting counter tops, kicking couches, and cursing at items bereft of ears.

My phone's external screen does not work anymore, after my phone did not act as it was designed to act and I threw it into a wall.  My radio in my car has been slugged several times when refusing to play an overly damaged CD.  When I was a child, my Nintendo controllers rattled when shook, a direct result of my slamming them into the floor after losing a life.  The closet door in my old apartment was off it's hinges after getting lightly stuck and summarily wrenched from the frame when I became angry at it's refusal to open and wrenched it open.

These are only a few small examples of my problem.  I have slammed the keyboard at work once or twice when I did not succeed in passing the 24th level of Blocky 2.  Kicked coffee tables after stubbing my toe on the coffee table, causing my toe to hurt more from the kick, which made me kick the table again.  I have also punched it after getting stopped on 4th and 2 in Madden.

Now, Traffic is not exactly an inanimate object, but taken as a whole, Traffic is not alive.  The people who cause it are alive, but Traffic itself is not a living being.  It does, however, feel my wrath.  This wrath comes in the form of unspeakably vile descriptions of premeditated homicide and insults centering on Traffic's mom.

I find many people idiotic and dumb.  There are thousands upon millions of people out there who, in some random working of the universe, were not given the gift of common sense and decent judgement.  These people would be jettisoned into space if I had the power to enact such jettisoning.  This would be done without remorse.  This is not how I am made, though.  I don't think about punching someone's face in, or kicking someone's ass.  What I do think about is how much the door is now hurt after I punched it in it's peephole.

The release felt after striking an object that has refused to do the job it was specifically made for is much like the first bite of warm pie, or the afterglow of coitus.  I like to think that the breaking of the scratched CD is directly experienced by the manufacturer of said CD, the record company executive of the band's company, and the band themselves.

I think perhaps this type of release is what keeps me from attempting bodily harm on others of my species, and helps to keep me from buying multiple firing arms and going on a Dumb Person shooting spree.  My fear of anal rape would be what makes me use paint pellets instead of bullets.

This act of aggression towards refrigerators and dryers appalls Nichole, and she frequently yells at me when witnessing such displays.  Probably because I tend to knock frames off of the walls when I punch them.  That is not a boast of my strength, but rather a critique on my carpentry.

I can't help it, though.  I get so freaking mad I lash out without thinking about it.  Still, I have never and will never do so to people, no matter how I have been pushed.

So to try and start a fight with me is futile.  I am generally a calm and rational person, and can use those traits to avoid bodily harm.  If you do choose to try it, though, watch yourself.  I am liable to kick your car and throw your keys into a wall.

It's just how I roll.