Hate is not an immaculate conception.  It doesn’t suddenly burst onto the scene without intent.  Whether knowledge of that intent is active or passive is another matter which only the bearer of the rotten fruit can truly ascertain with even a hint of accuracy.

Hate isn’t spread like pixie dust.  It doesn’t just happen upon you by chance encounter with someone or something with which you have nothing in common.  It is a slow growing pathogen which once fully in bloom is like the most stubborn of weeds that is practically impossible to eradicate.  It is spread through contact with receptive hosts.

I do not believe there is any antidote that will ever completely erase its presence once it is within you.  It can however be diminished into a state of dormant harmlessness.  The most effective antidote that is known to all but practiced by few (not from lack of knowledge but from lack of will) is simply patience.  The patience to lift unfamiliar veils and discern the truth for yourself.

It’s like Borges library of babel.  The amount of knowledge that can be gleaned from any given situation is infinite.  The more you investigate, the more paths you uncover.  Surface knowledge is two dimensional at best and the worst casing for ammunition.  It either fails to explode upon impact or in the worst scenarios it spreads its destruction indiscriminately.



I rarely find time to be a linear concept.  It seems more often than not that it is either stagnant or in reverse.  Stagnant in the sense that one day feels identical to the next due to routines we seem practically addicted to.  Reverse, in that the world seems to forever recycle past catastrophes to experience them all over again.  It’s almost like we crave adversity.

Even in the old sci-fi films the time machines rarely seem to go into the future, it always seems so much easier and irresistible to put it in reverse.  Even though having either studied the distant past, or having lived through the recent past, we illogically feel that it would be exciting to tread the same ground over and over again instead of going into a future unknown.

Rarely when people give speeches do we remark, “wow that was a glimpse of the future.”  It’s usually more along the lines of, “that reminded me of so and so.”  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a speech that was so entirely “new” that people couldn’t fit it into a box whose label was already turning yellow from having been stuck there for so long.  How refreshing it would be to hear an idea that wasn’t recycled from things long ago discarded.