Am I Tapped Out of Outrage?

Am I Tapped Out of Outrage?

Adrienne BoettingerMonday,20 June 2016

It’s been a long, shitty week but at this point I’m feeling numb. A big chunk of time was taken up with shaking my head to the point of banging it into the wall over the horrific mass murder and hate crime in Orlando. Then came the smaller and more personal crappy moments including waking up with my face swollen shut from unidentified allergens, finding out my dog’s tumor is back, work nonsense, the beginnings of a sty, unwanted poundage, unexpected car costs, and capping it off, spilling an entire glass of wine which means my living room smells like wine and yet there is no wine for me to drink. AND THERE IS NO PIE IN THE HOUSE!

But I can’t work up the outrage to place more than one exclamation point after that sentence. Just looking at the sentence all in caps makes me tired. I can’t even bring myself to whip up the same enthusiastic outrage at the articles and online posts that would normally have me near the point of rage stroke. Like I just read this dickhead on GQ saying how even though he’s of course a “pretty good-looking dude” he keeps getting ghosted on and I was barely annoyed enough to look up what ghosting meant. Now, I’ve been ghosted plenty of times in my long and varied dating career but the term, which I had thankfully not heard up until now, irritates the bejeezus out of me — almost as much as the “dad bod” of yesteryear.

Even with the ghosting and dickhead, Trump implying that President Obama was linked to the shooting in Orlando (and Senator McCain outright saying—and later unsaying—President Obama was responsible), the probably pointless filibuster of Senate Democrats to stage a filibuster to force a vote on gun control, and the sociopath who was so over white men’s entitlement that she or he couldn’t give a crap about the toddler killed by an alligator this week, I just can’t get outraged.

There’s something about outrage that feels addictive. Online we seek out article and videos that will enrage us. Is it that with our mobile devices and fast-paced, semi-detached lives, it just feels good to actually feel something even if that something is extreme loathing of another person? Is it that we like seeing our outrage mirrored in those who think like us and live parallel lives to us online?

Whatever it is, I’m tapped out. I can’t look at another story on another politician who was anti-LGBT rights until Orlando and now only offers the trope that the victims are in his or her “thoughts and prayers.” I can’t read again about the Senate is refusing to even consider the President’s appointee to the Supreme Court or Senator Gillibrand’s bipartisan supported amendment on reforming how the military handles sexual assault. I barely have the strength to roll my eyes at Trump’s latest truthy Trumpism.

And so, boys and girls, it’s time for a rage palate cleansing break. If you could have the world hold off from having any more terribly sucktastic things for a day or so, that would be super. Meanwhile I’ll use my remaining mental powers to will a magical pie delivery service into existence or a device that un-spills wine.

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Image Credit: Matt Baume on Flickr



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