I Fillet The Industrial Powers

All kidding aside, I'm really in a bad mood tonight.

As you probably know very well, I'm something of a life coach on topics like self-esteem, personal pride, and confidence. I've long been a student of the various lifestyle sciences, etc., as well as a teacher. When I'm a student, I'm hoping my teachers will go easy on me. When I'm a teacher, I go tough on my students. My big aim is to master everything, thus dispensing with all teachers, giving me a free shot at the others.

OK, I'm all that ... self-esteem, pride, confidence, lifestyle sciences, human environmental studies, and so forth ... but tonight it's strictly a case of "Physician, Heal Thyself," in that I am hitting bottom ... personally, emotionally, psychologically. I'm overwrought, wrung out, and really feeling crabby.

This is a dangerous place for me, psychically. Because I know as well as anyone the psychic price that goes along with moods, acting out, and lashing out. They used to say at the local Ford dealer, "It only takes a minute to get a better deal," and I know it only takes a minute to bottom out. Having to do with my emotional life and not in buying cars. Except buying cars would make anyone mad.

All along -- the last month and more -- I've had it in for the industrial powers. They've made me periodically blow my top. It hasn't been a good ride for me in terms of taking care of myself, even if the sacrifices I've made for the sake of the world and my own town have been my privilege. There are those times I've gotten the job done, and I've felt a corresponding pride -- Who wouldn't? Then there have been those other times when I've felt a certain frustration and have bottomed out. My mood swings would make an interesting horror film.

So, tonight, I need to work through some of these feelings, which I know are spurred on by the industrial powers, those blasted industrialists, and all my concerns over the industrial section of my own town and other cities.

Today, driving along, I saw a road called "Industrial Lane"! I was thinking, "Good grief, isn't it enough that we give these filthy industrialists access to great tracts of our precious land -- any picture from space proves that real estate on the earth is a finite commodity -- but do we also have to name our streets after them?!" Industrial Park, Industrial Lane, Industrial Drive, etc., there's no telling where it will end!

Also driving along today, I was in a smaller town, much smaller than the one I've grown used to. And there was a railroad track, and there was some dinky wannabe industrial section. It was small, yet it still took up a good chunk of the very small town. I could only shake my head ... as well as let my anger simmer, smolder, and it finally erupted, resulting at me shaking my head in sorrow.

And so it goes. The world goes on, rolls on on its merry way, oblivious to the danger, the very clear and present danger. A few of us know ... too few ... and of those, how many of us are getting downright mad? I for one am.

I think of the fat cats, sitting in their offices, just sitting there with a cigar and a smile on their face. They hate me and I hate them. My hatred is pure. I would love to lash out and fillet them. Dress them down, like a big moose hanging in a tree.