Passive Aggression
M Alan Roberts

It's a fine Sunday morning; my thoughts naturally drift into the woods as I stare out my writing window. The countryside where I live is particularly serene this day, as the sun is cascading over the treetops - breaking through in calming streams through the canopy. I feel complete as I soak it all in. To my left, on the rear deck, sits my ever-growing pit-lab puppy, Buckethead - a sentry scanning for intruders of any size, even insects. Directly in front on me, I catch the neck-stretching movement of the world's coolest rooster, Chicken Truck, Chicken Truck. As I settle in and check the day's agenda, I recognize that life is luxurious - even in times of great simplicity like this.

And then a RSS news feed pops up on my screen. I catch it only briefly as I am jerked from my tranquil thoughts - something about a homeless man being beat to death by police in Atlanta last night. Now what in the hell is going on? I've lived on the streets for periods of life and just happen to know firsthand how benevolent most of the homeless are. Sure, they might be afraid, dirty - maybe even mentally ill, but rarely violent. And even if so, is it really necessary to group-attack one man and beat him until his very life force is knocked from his body? Damn these cops! Why don't they go and do something positive, like beat a few politicians I can think of to death instead?

Luckily, I have a daily email delivered to me from a Buddhist organization. It comes to me very regularly to bring me messages of hope and wisdom - something I can always count on and actually have come to look very forward to. My email messenger buzzes me just in time to offer me solace in the face of my increasing anger. I click to it immediately and am reminded that I receive ultimate benefit from being aware of negativity without reacting to it in negative fashion.

And so I breathe.

In and out - deeply and intentionally - with awareness and purpose. My mind eases and I return to the woods and my animals - remembering the Atlanta killing, but calmer now. I find myself re-centered and decide to move forward and attempt to shine with proactive enthusiasm today - to somehow try to negate the bad karma unleashed onto the planet from police, judges, politicians and other tyrants everywhere. Thank you, Buddha - you rock dude.

Being pissed makes me hungry - and right now I feel starved. I take the short pilgrimage to the fridge to see what I can scratch up. I always try to keep wholesome foods in there. I desire to maintain my immune system's health and be able to long-endure the onslaught of atmospheric and land-based toxins that I am constantly exposed to. Examining the contents, I peacefully look forward to a bowl of fresh fruit - filled with natural antioxidants and life-enhancing nutrients. Quite yummy indeed. Ah, what's that? An email alert from my holistic health news aggregator. Better go check it out real quick...

Dammit! It seems that the US government, Bush's EPA specifically, has approved the widespread use of the quickly-vaporizing, and therefore far-drifting pesticide, methyl iodide. I read a little more to learn that methyl iodide has been repetitively proven to induce cancer in lab animals, create neurological abnormalities and form tumors on the thyroid. It says here that the nation's leading chemists had previously written an official letter to Stephen Johnson, the EPA's Administrator, asking that the pesticide not be used without further scientific review. But of course, it is used being anyway. It is being sprayed liberally over massive fields filled with strawberries and other fruits. Fruits! Dammit! There goes my breakfast! Can't eat it now - might drive me insane or cancerize my Adam's apple.

Remembering the lessons of calmness and gracious benevolence taught to me earlier, I gently close the fridge door and mindfully commit to a day of fasting - a chance to allow my body's filtration systems to catch up with their duties - an opportunity to reconsider my dietary choices. It's no longer healthy to eat fruits and vegetables unless you can somehow magically acquire completely whole food sources, untouched by governmental production.

Knowing that the answer is obvious, I call the Home Depot and schedule the delivery of a roto-tiller. While I'm at it, I tell them to bring some electric fencing, water pumps and bunks of lumber for construction purposes.

It's going to take me some time to get that garden producing pesticide-free crops; build the barn for steroid-free stock animals; set up the chicken coupes; electrify the yard's perimeter; get that fish stream flowing and everything else I need to do to produce my own food supply - but if I don't, I die.

It's a good thing that I can always look forward to my daily wisdom messages. They help keep me calm and cool. Otherwise, I might be driven to insane actions and their resulting accusations of terroristic behaviour. I don't mess around with the US government though - I am not a dummy. At least right now, they are only trying to kill me with slow-acting food poisons. At least they haven't put the Waco treatment to me yet.

Well, at least Buckethead and Chicken Truck, Chicken Truck will have some new friends soon - until I eat them.