I Hate People, and for the Best of Reasons

Because they have hated me, and I was smart enough to know this.

This the world I was brought up in. Parents that did not like me (but pretended to). Schoolteachers that did not like me (but also pretended to). The Cold War that hated half the world. And behind it all, the Office that hated everyone in existence.

It would have taken an unusual person to notice the good in all this bad.

Now late in life (I am 82), I am beginning to realize that the world is more complicated and has room for all kinds of people, some of which aren't so bad, and some of which certainly are.

I can sort these people out, and react to them appropriately. The key word here is react. If I don't like them, they don't die (even if I want them to) and if they do not like me, I do not die either.

I don't have to take a gun and kill a few of them just to make my point.