The Stupidity of Hate

Let's say I hate you. I don't, but for the the sake of building an argument, let's just say it. I hate you, so much so that I am consumed by the depth and breadth of my contempt. I think about hating you day and night, and I shout out obscenities throughout the day just thinking about you, because I've developed a Tourette's of bitterness. *##@*! No doubt about it. I hate you.

It's the kind of feeling that one cannot shake. It's deep and abiding; the sort of hostility you are sure you can hold in your hand and roll around like a hard, slick marble. You can discern it's weight in your palm, and your skin memorizes how it smooth it is. You know what it is through and through. Hatred.

I don't like you, so the mere possibility of a conversation is shut down. There is nothing to talk about, really. You are vile and disposable. You cannot do anything right. Everything you do has an ulterior motive or selfish agenda. If you sneeze, I will tell everyone who would listen how rude you are to expel your germ-ridden, gooey nastiness into the air from which the world has to breathe. Yes, your existence negatively impacts the whole world. Indeed, your existence forces me to hate you. You are a skin and oxygen thief.

You aren't really human in my hatred. In fact, you can't be, because I have to objectify you over and over again to push you as far away from what I think is good and worthy and human. You are an animal at best, certainly not a child of God, or even someone that should (or will) have access to God. To hell you shall go. My hate doesn't necessarily come as a result of something you did. I simply hate you, and even if we once got along, I decided to hate you from the beginning and was just waiting for the precious moment when my precious animosity could live.

Because we have determined you are worthless, I can name you. I don't care how you maintain who you are, I will say who you are, and speak for you. Mute is the only volume I require of you. I have convinced many others that you are pathetic, unintelligible, and proof of evolution. I do so hate you.

Ok, enough. I need a holy pause. Even this exercise makes me feel slimy. I don't hate you, really, not because I couldn't. I don't because there is absolutely nothing that can change the fact that we were made by the same Creator who said that creation was good. Hatred is the refuge for people who are lazy in their engagement with others, and are predisposed to the negative. It takes a lot of energy to close social distance, to become friends with people different from you. In my healthiest moments, I don't use my energy for something so draining and selfish. Hate is just stupid. It is the state of being where one loses one's humanity based on a false reality we made up of others. This sort of animosity chips away at us every moment we sink into that murky, stagnant pool.

Hating others lowers the bar, and becomes an oversimplified way to be in the world. There is no need to be well-informed, no reason to be thoughtful or intelligent in discourse. In hatred, you can be stupid without apology. One can say, "I simply want you gone, and if I want you gone, I no longer care how you go."

Now to what spurred this entry. Wagging fingers forces one to write for the sake of sanity. Smug arrogance, and over-spinning of events makes one respond. Racist overtones and explicit hatred is flying so much, we all feel sick and dizzy to varying degrees, and apparently there is no end in sight. What spurred me to write is the amount of times I hear people on CNN and other media outlets saying some version of: "I support this person, because he represents the best chance to beat Obama." What? If I were a viable candidate, I would be offended. You don't care about my qualifications, my character, my vision-- just that I can be your mythic hero in a time of perceived or manufactured crisis? There is something implicitly wrong with that paradigm.

Some would suggest that displacement at all costs is not hate. It's simply standing against a failed President with failed policies. Bull. This is pure, unadulterated, school yard-variety bitterness in its many forms, veiled in a thin veneer of "patriotism" and a "return to the good ol' days". This hatred is the residue of the potty that has never been cleaned in our American history of deep racism, sexism, classism, rampant bullying, and an acceptable national oppositional defiance that is dangerous. It is one that has been nurtured for so long that some believe it isn't hatred. It's lost its distinction because its old, deep, concrete evil. We've not been honest as a country, and we have not pursued healing in healthy ways.

Let's stop the madness. The great thing is the opposite of love is fear, not hate, and with love, hate doesn't stand a chance. And there's nothing stupid about that.