My Almost Constantly
Furious President
notes from a fictional loyalist
on the thrill of boiling over
My president reminds me of the Furies in Greek drama. Sometimes he speaks of love, but even then he seems furious, like the Furies.
I've been reading about the Furies lately, and I've come to like them. Often the Furies become completely enraged and threaten to destroy everything, including the fertility of the earth. Their fury is very intense, very creative in its own destructive way.
People might try to tame the Furies, but that is really impossible. The Furies are intoxicated by their fury. Every time they unleash some fury and shake things up, they experience an intensity, a "rush," that is momentarily satisfying, like heroin. Like violence.
Of course, the rush lasts just a short time and before long another rush will be needed. And they''ll find a way to get it. In their furious states, the Furies let loose upon the land a vindictive poison, dripping deadly from the heart, and breeding a kind of cancer.
Why the fury? Part of it is that they feel mocked, unaccepted by the people and by a world that has changed from their memory of it "when they were young." Thus their fury is fueled by nostalgia and insecurity: even a kind of loneliness.
And so it is with my president. He is my lord and my fury. I can go to one of his rallies and taste the "fury." The rally will be filled with music and play and humor - but always it carries with it an intoxicating sense of the "others" who deserve fury. We get to hate together: that is, hate the people who hate us, of course. We loyalists love one another. We feel a special bond.
It's a religious feeling: this thrill of boiling over. The walls of "political correctedness" break down. It's beautiful. When you experience it, you are taken into another plane of existence, at least for a moment. You get the rush, both mysterious and terrifying. It's holy.
You might say my president is a furious Fuhrer. "Fuhrer" is German for 'leader' or 'guide.' That's how I feel about him, he is my priest of fury. Priest of the boil. I'm just kidding, of course. But he is a kind of leader for me. He reminds me of images of God where God is outraged and angry, almost beside himself. Trampling down the vineyards. My president knows how to trample. His anger thrills me. I love him.
-- a fictional loyalist
I've been reading about the Furies lately, and I've come to like them. Often the Furies become completely enraged and threaten to destroy everything, including the fertility of the earth. Their fury is very intense, very creative in its own destructive way.
People might try to tame the Furies, but that is really impossible. The Furies are intoxicated by their fury. Every time they unleash some fury and shake things up, they experience an intensity, a "rush," that is momentarily satisfying, like heroin. Like violence.
Of course, the rush lasts just a short time and before long another rush will be needed. And they''ll find a way to get it. In their furious states, the Furies let loose upon the land a vindictive poison, dripping deadly from the heart, and breeding a kind of cancer.
Why the fury? Part of it is that they feel mocked, unaccepted by the people and by a world that has changed from their memory of it "when they were young." Thus their fury is fueled by nostalgia and insecurity: even a kind of loneliness.
And so it is with my president. He is my lord and my fury. I can go to one of his rallies and taste the "fury." The rally will be filled with music and play and humor - but always it carries with it an intoxicating sense of the "others" who deserve fury. We get to hate together: that is, hate the people who hate us, of course. We loyalists love one another. We feel a special bond.
It's a religious feeling: this thrill of boiling over. The walls of "political correctedness" break down. It's beautiful. When you experience it, you are taken into another plane of existence, at least for a moment. You get the rush, both mysterious and terrifying. It's holy.
You might say my president is a furious Fuhrer. "Fuhrer" is German for 'leader' or 'guide.' That's how I feel about him, he is my priest of fury. Priest of the boil. I'm just kidding, of course. But he is a kind of leader for me. He reminds me of images of God where God is outraged and angry, almost beside himself. Trampling down the vineyards. My president knows how to trample. His anger thrills me. I love him.
-- a fictional loyalist
The Eumenides Lines 734-1047
The Chorus of Furies, however remains behind and is very, very upset to observe what has just happened. Lamenting, they cry aloud, "Gods of the younger generation, you have ridden down/the laws of the elder time, torn them out of my hands./I, disinherited, suffering, heavy with anger/shall let loose on the land/the vindictive poison/dripping deadly out of my heart upon the ground;/this from itself shall breed/cancer.../What shall I do? Afflicted/I am mocked by these people"
The Furies are filled with rage that their authority has been questioned by Athena and the citizens of Athens, promising to destroy the city and fill it with death. They feel that the younger gods should have some respect for them because they are so ancient, although they refuse to accept that the world has changed from the way it was when they were young. Now there is a court to punish people, and their avenging powers are no longer effective.
Athena attempts to comfort the Furies, urging them not to become angry or to bring sickness to Athens. She states that the Furies are not mocked at all, but instead Zeus himself made the decision to spare Orestes from punishment. Athena offers a compromise, stating "In complete honesty I promise you a place/of your own, deep hidden underground that is yours by right/where you shall sit on shining chairs beneath the hearth/to accept devotions offered by your citizens"
Rather than being separate from the younger gods, relics from an ancient time, Athena asks the Furies to work together with the younger gods. If the Furies will put aside their anger, they can be worshipped just like any younger god, instead of being considered primitive and uncivilized, because of their thirst for blood. Now they can even have golden thrones under the earth where they will rule, if they accept Athena's generous offer.
She promises that people will respect them, which is something that the Furies have wanted all along. However, the avenging Furies merely chant those exact same words again, "Afflicted/I am mocked by these people." They appear not to hear what Athena has said because they are so consumed with anger after losing the court case.
The Furies are filled with rage that their authority has been questioned by Athena and the citizens of Athens, promising to destroy the city and fill it with death. They feel that the younger gods should have some respect for them because they are so ancient, although they refuse to accept that the world has changed from the way it was when they were young. Now there is a court to punish people, and their avenging powers are no longer effective.
Athena attempts to comfort the Furies, urging them not to become angry or to bring sickness to Athens. She states that the Furies are not mocked at all, but instead Zeus himself made the decision to spare Orestes from punishment. Athena offers a compromise, stating "In complete honesty I promise you a place/of your own, deep hidden underground that is yours by right/where you shall sit on shining chairs beneath the hearth/to accept devotions offered by your citizens"
Rather than being separate from the younger gods, relics from an ancient time, Athena asks the Furies to work together with the younger gods. If the Furies will put aside their anger, they can be worshipped just like any younger god, instead of being considered primitive and uncivilized, because of their thirst for blood. Now they can even have golden thrones under the earth where they will rule, if they accept Athena's generous offer.
She promises that people will respect them, which is something that the Furies have wanted all along. However, the avenging Furies merely chant those exact same words again, "Afflicted/I am mocked by these people." They appear not to hear what Athena has said because they are so consumed with anger after losing the court case.