Rare is the day at the library where I don't fly into a tiny rage about some trifling, but notable thing.
"But" you cry out "You are the most spiritual blogger in the world. I cannot imagine you flying into a rage!"
I understand. I too struggle with the value of anger. But I do fly into a
small rage over the dumb new place we keep the keys, or some pointless
new survey, or an essential book that we don't have. There's plenty of stuff around here to fly into a rage about. It's not so bad.
In one of the greatest romantic comedies of all time, Nicholas Cage
plays a character who has lost one of his hands. He explains how he
no longer talks to his brother, Johnny, because Johnny came into
the bakery he worked at, distracted him, and caused him to put his hand
into a bread slicer, which promptly chewed his hand off. His fiancee
left him. His life was ruined.
Cher, who Nicholas Cage is telling this to, is taken aback. She points
out that his losing his hand and losing his girl was not his brother's
Nicholas Cage cries out "I ain't no monument to freakin' justice! I lost
my hand! I lost my bride! Johnny has his hand! Johnny has his bride!
You want me to take my heartache, put it away and forget it?"
And what, you may wonder, does this scene have to do with what I am saying here?
I don't know. I can't make magical sense out of every problem and question! I write the greatest blog on the Internet! Every single freakin' day! Where are my million readers? Where is my million dollar book advance! Where are all the people yelling "Yes" to me?
So what does this scene have to do with what I'm talking about?
Nothing, really, nothing at all.