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Anger

Anger is the body mobilized against an obstruction — heat rising into the chest and jaw, the gaze narrowing, the hands wanting a target. It is not a failure of composure but a verdict already reached: something here is wrong, and the wrong has an address. Vela reads anger as a primary emotion with its own dignity, distinct from the cruelty it is so often mistaken for, and attends to how often it is the honest first response to harm.

Working definition · Mobilized objection—heat and pressure toward obstruction, harm, or unfairness.

8921 passages · in 1 cluster

Vela’s read on this emotion

Anger is one of the most moralized of the emotions Vela reads, and the moralizing usually runs in one direction — toward suppression. The reading runs against that reflex. Anger is information before it is a problem; it names the place where a boundary was crossed, and the writers worth following have refused to apologize for it.

The reading is densest where anger has had to be argued for as legitimate. The testimony of the AIDS years — the personal essays and oral histories that came out of ACT UP, the activist coalition that confronted the early epidemic — keeps rage as a load-bearing register, not a lapse. Audre Lorde wrote about the uses of anger as a precise instrument rather than a loss of control. The memoir of survived family harm holds anger that took years to permit itself — anger at a parent, at an institution, at the self for not being angrier sooner. The contemplative inheritance is not silent here either: the Hebrew prophets and the Psalms of imprecation keep an unembarrassed register of anger directed at injustice and even at God.

Anger is not the same as resentment, contempt, or cruelty. Resentment is anger banked and cooled — grievance kept in storage. Contempt has given up on the other and looks down; anger still believes the other can be reached. Cruelty wants harm for its own sake; anger wants the wrong addressed. The four are kin and the reading keeps them separate, because the writers most honest about each have kept them separate.

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Long-form guide in the magazine

An essay on how this word lives in language, in the tagged corpus, and in figurative art when curators pair passage with image — not a list of stages, not permission to feel.

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Passages

Every passage tagged with this emotion in the Vela corpus. Search the body text, narrow by source or register, click through to a book’s profile to see how the passage sits with the rest of the work.

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8921 tagged passages

  • From In an Unspoken Voice (2010)

    Pavlov named the third and final chapter in the breakdown saga following unmitigated stress ultra-paradoxical but also referred to it as the transmarginal phase. In this final phase of “supramaximal” stimulation, a critical point was reached. Going beyond this apex would cause many of his dogs to just shut down; they became unresponsive for an extended period of time. Pavlov believed that this shutdown was a biological defense against neural overload. (In this way Pavlov set the stage for the study of conservation-withdrawal as investigated by Engle and later by Porges with the formation of his polyvagal theory.) In addition, as his animals “recovered” from being stunned, they exhibited extremely odd and inexplicable behaviors. The aggressive dogs became docile while the timid ones turned hyper-aggressive, as mentioned earlier. Similarly, trainers for whom the dogs had shown affection prior to the flood were now confronted with aggressive snarls and lunges. Other dogs, who had previously disliked their handlers, greeted them with showers of tail wagging and affection. These about-face counterintuitive behaviors are analogous to those of highly traumatized humans. The loving husband who attacks his wife upon returning from the Iraq War is one such possible example. Another involves hostages who exhibit the Stockholm syndrome. They are not only compliant but may behave as though they have fallen in love with their captors, even refusing to leave when their rescuers arrive. There are a multitude of examples where victims of kidnapping have regularly visited their previous attackers in prison for years and have even married them. Jill Carroll, the Christian Science Monitor reporter, described her Iraq abduction in almost cheerful terms but then, a day or two later, talked about being in seclusion because of her trauma. And then, hopefully back to equilibrium, she made the statement, “I finally feel like I am alive again.” In addition, traumatized individuals generally find themselves, as with Pavlov’s transmarginal phase, swinging wildly and unpredictably between being numb and shut down on the one hand and being flooded by emotions, including terror and rage, on the other. These bipolar swings are often erratic and capricious. With human posttraumatic stress disorder, chronic sufferers tend to gravitate, over time, toward shutdown. This shows up as symptoms of alexithymia (the inability to describe or elaborate feelings due to a deficiency in emotional awareness), depression and somatization.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    Maybe it was the same anger I felt, that hot thing that filled me up as I struck him again and again, I would shut him up, I thought, though I didn’t shut him up, he still spoke as I beat him, saying Yes after each stroke, yes, yes, and this made me angry, too, I can’t say why, it stoked the hot feeling that made me strike him harder. Shut up, I thought, though I didn’t speak the words, shut the fuck up, and it made me glad when he stopped saying yes, when he made other noises instead, inarticulate, animal, when he stopped giving me permission; maybe that was it, I didn’t want his permission, we had gotten past permission, I thought. I was hard again, beating him had made me hard; I didn’t know I could enjoy someone’s suffering that way but I did enjoy it, I wanted him to suffer more. When my arm was tired I raised it above my head, my right arm, and brought it down harder, not on his ass but on his back, which I struck three times very fast and with all my strength. He cried out sharply, a cry of real pain, pinched and high-pitched, but he didn’t break his position, he stayed crouched with his hands clasped beneath his head. Nor did he move when I dropped the belt and climbed onto the bed behind him. I had thought I wouldn’t fuck him but I wanted to fuck him now, I had to do it, it was a kind of compulsion, a necessary conclusion to what he had made me feel, I needed to be inside him. His ass was red from the beating, it was hot to the touch when I smacked him, which elicited another cry, more of surprise than of pain, I thought. I spit into the same hand and slicked my cock with it, just a little; I knew I was close, if I stroked myself too hard I would come too soon, and also I didn’t want to be too slick, I wanted him to feel it. I had opened him up already, he would still be wet from my hand, but I didn’t want it to be too easy for him, I wanted it to hurt.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    I was there to join them, but something held me back. I stood scanning the crowd until I saw, among all the Bulgarian red and green and white, a little rainbow flag, then another, a whole group of five or six people waving them alongside their posterboard signs. I knew them, or most of them, they were activists I had met over the years, and I cut through the crowd toward them. S. greeted me first, tucking his posterboard under his arm to shake my hand. He was in his midtwenties, tall, with longish brown hair he frequently tossed out of his eyes, the gesture of an eighties pop star. He had come in from Varna, where he ran one of the only activist organizations I had heard of outside of Sofia. It had been in the news lately, they had tried to organize what he called an LGBT film festival, though it was really just a few chairs and a DVD player in a café. But even that was too much; on the second day a group of men barged in, they destroyed the television, they threatened anyone who came back. I mentioned this to him, saying it was terrible, outrageous, but he waved the words away. Those assholes, he said, it was just bullshit theater, the police were there the next day but they didn’t come back. He was more upset about the Pride parade in Sofia, which had been canceled; when the city had expressed concern about security during the protests, the organizers had put out a statement that they were postponing the event as an act of solidarity, that it was a time for Sofians to stand together. Obedineni sme, they said, we’re united as Bulgarians, which is total bullshit, S. said, what kind of message is that, it says we have to choose between being gay and being Bulgarian, fuck that, it’s so fucking homophobic. He winced as an air horn blew nearby. And fuck the city, he said, they can’t just decide not to protect us. If they want to be part of the EU they have to make it safe for us to march, it’s bullshit to give them permission not to try. He gestured to the rest of the group. So we’re doing Pride anyway, he said, they should know we’re here, they shouldn’t be able to ignore us. Even so, their posterboard signs were mostly discreet, one with the words NIE SME S VAS, we’re with you, with rainbows in the corner, another with TOLERANTNOST in thick black letters against the white. Only two of them carried signs that were more demonstrative: S., whose sign read NIE PROTESTIRAME BEZ HOMOFOBIYA, we’re protesting without homophobia, and K., a woman my age from Dobrich, a small city where she worked translating technical English but spent most of her time on message boards and chat rooms, often enough on the phone, counseling gay teenagers—she called them her children—sometimes talking to them through the night. This accounted for the harried look she always wore when I saw her, the dark circles under her eyes, the heaviness with which she moved. She was admirable, everything about her spoke of sacrifice, and something in me shied away from her, I didn’t doubt the good she did but I avoided her whenever I could. S. had been one of her children, years before, and he remained devoted to her; I had heard him say that she had saved his life, that she inspired the work he did. She nodded when I walked up, but didn’t offer to shake my hand. Hers was the largest sign, with the letters LGBT and beneath them I NIE SME BULGARI, we’re Bulgarians too.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    I’m sorry, she said, I’m sorry, I don’t mean to diss your video—her English was the best in the class, she was a hair’s breadth from sounding like any American kid—I don’t mean to diss your video, but I’m so sick of this nostalgia bullshit. Sorry, she said, glancing at me, though she knew I didn’t care if they cursed in class, sorry, but all this men-on-horseback crap, what does that have to do with Bulgaria, I mean with Bulgaria now. The hair’s breadth made a difference; there’s a kind of uncanny valley in language, competency can overshoot the mark, so that however perfectly we speak a foreign language speaking it too casually feels like imposture, I don’t know why. I like horses, a boy interjected, getting a laugh, and she rolled her eyes. No, really, she said, this is the problem, when we want to be proud we think of the natsionalno vuzrazhdane , or we think of Bulgariya na tri moreta , we think of Tsarevets. She was right, I thought, though I didn’t say anything; they were at the core of what my students thought of as their national identity, the nineteenth-century liberation and Bulgaria’s medieval greatness, when its borders had touched three seas, tri moreta , a phrase the far right used to stoke nationalist feeling and that adorned tourist T-shirts at every cheap souvenir shop. But that doesn’t say anything about how we live now, she said, it’s all just Kill the Ottomans, it doesn’t tell us anything about what it means to be Bulgarian now. The temperature rose a little at this; some of the students leaned forward in their seats, which were situated around a group of desks we had pushed together to make a kind of conference table, I wanted them to look at each other as they spoke. What does, then, a boy asked, what do you think does tell us about Bulgaria now, and another boy said Berbatov, the soccer star, which made half of the class laugh and the other half groan. Nothing, my student said, raising her voice, nothing does, that’s our problem, that’s why the protests won’t go anywhere, we have no idea how to be Bulgarian in the real world, we have no idea how we should be. The temperature rose still further at this, a number of voices spoke at once, making noises of protest or skepticism, come on, I heard, and gluposti , nonsense, and then my student started to speak again in defense. I had let the reins go too slack, though I wanted to watch things play out the conversation was too hot, a couple of students were looking my way, I needed to intervene.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    It was about joy, the story he would tell me, but it wasn’t joy I saw as he moved back and forth between my cock and my hand, or not only joy. I had the sense that he was looking for something and not finding it, making his movements sharper and faster; he was asking a question I didn’t know how to answer, that I tried to answer by jabbing my hand and twisting it with each movement he made. But he was frustrated, I thought, and finally he stopped his motion, he forced himself down on my cock, taking me as deep as he could, shaking his head a little as if to work me in deeper, like a dog worrying a toy. I used my free hand to grab his head and fucked him as hard as I could, savagely, in a way meant to hurt him. I tilted slightly on my side and wrapped my legs around his head, trapping him and moving my hips very fast, as hard and as fast as I could, an uncontrolled motion, a kind of spasm to echo his own spasm as he choked on me, though even as he choked he locked his arms around my ass, to keep me from pulling away. I made a sound then too, loud and guttural, almost a shout, and it was only when I heard it that I realized it was anger I felt, hot and eager, I didn’t know where it came from but I would make him feel it too, I thought. I held him in place even as I felt him try to pull his head back, even after he started slapping my thighs again I held him down. I wanted to frighten him, I think, I wanted it not to be a game. You want it, I said as he struggled, you want it, take it then, I said, take it, you fucking whore, and it was the shock of the words that made me let him go, the words and what I felt as I said them.

  • From The Laws of Human Nature (2018)

    When we limit our thinking to what our senses provide, to what is immediate, we descend to the pure animal level in which our reasoning powers are neutralized. We are no longer aware of why or how things come about. We imagine that some successful scheme that has lasted a few months can only get better. We no longer give thought to the possible consequences of anything we set in motion. We react to what is given in the moment, based on only a small piece of the puzzle. Naturally our actions then lead to unintended consequences, or even to disasters like the South Sea crash or the more recent crash of 2008. To complicate matters, we are surrounded by others who are continually reacting, drawing us deeper into the present. Salesmen and demagogues play on this weakness in human nature to con us with the prospect of easy gains and instant gratification. Our only antidote is to train ourselves to continually detach from the immediate rush of events and elevate our perspective. Instead of merely reacting, we step back and look at the wider context. We consider the various possible ramifications of any action we take. We keep in mind our long-term goals. Often, in raising our perspective, we will decide that it is better to do nothing, to not react, and to let time go by and see what it reveals. (If Blunt had only waited a few months, he would have seen Law’s scheme falling apart, and England would have been spared the ruin that came.) Such sanity and balance do not come naturally. They are powers we acquire through great effort, and they represent the height of human wisdom. I can calculate the motion of heavenly bodies, but not the madness of people. —Sir Isaac Newton Keys to Human Nature Almost all of us have experienced something similar to the following scenarios: Someone we need or depend on is not paying us proper attention, not returning our calls. Feeling frustrated, we express our feelings to him or double our efforts to get a response. Or we encounter a problem, a project that is not going well, and so we decide upon a strategy and take appropriate action. Or a new person appears in our life, and captivated by her fresh energy and charm, we become friends. Then weeks go by and we are forced to reassess what had happened and how we had reacted. New information comes to light. That person who was not responding to us was himself overwhelmed with work. If only we had just waited and not been so impatient, we could have avoided pushing away a valuable ally. That problem we tried to solve was not really so urgent, and we made it worse by rushing an outcome. We needed to know more before acting. And that new friend ends up not being so charming; in fact, time reveals her to be a destructive sociopath whose friendship

  • From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

    REMIGIUS. Or perhaps they represent the Angels, or the preachers of the holy Church, or any of the faithful, who when they see a brother whose sins are forgiven refusing to forgive his fellow-servant, they are sorrowful over his perdition. And they came, and told their lord, what was done. They came not in body, but in spirit. To tell their Lord, is to shew the woe and sorrow of the heart in their carriage. It follows, Then his lord called him. He called him by the sentence of death, and bade him pass out of this world, and said unto him, Thou wicked servant, I forgave thee all that debt, because thou prayedst me. CHRYSOSTOM. When he owed him ten thousand talents, he did not call him wicked, nor did he at all chide him, but had mercy on him; but now when he had been ungenerous to his fellow-servant, then he says to him, Thou wicked servant; and this is what is said, Oughtest thou not to have had mercy upon thy fellow-servant. REMIGIUS. And it is to be known, that we read no answer made by that servant to his lord; by which it is shewn us, that in the day of judgment, and altogether after this life, all excusing of ourselves shall be out off, CHRYSOSTOM. Because kindness had not mended him, it remains that he be corrected by punishment; whence it follows, And the lord of that servant was angry, and delivered him to the torturers until he should pay the whole debt. He said not merely, Delivered him, but was angry, this he had not said before; when his Lord commanded that he should be sold; for that was not in wrath, but in love, for his correction; now this is a sentence of penalty and punishment, REMIGIUS. For God is said then to be wroth, when he takes vengeance on sinners. Torturers are intended for the dæmons, who are always ready to take up lost souls, and torture them in the pangs of eternal punishment. Will any who is once sunk into everlasting condemnation ever come to find season of repentance, and a way to escape? Never; that until is put for infinity; and the meaning is, He shall be ever paying, and shall never quit the debt, but shall be ever under punishment, CHRYSOSTOM. By this is shewn that his punishment shall be increasing and eternal, and that he shall never pay. And however irrevocable are the graces and callings of God, yet wickedness has that force, that it seems to break even this law.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    I’m so happy I saw you, she said, it was so great to do this, and then she was gone. Other people were leaving too, streaming down into the metro or dispersing on foot, the march was thinning out. Those of us who stayed turned onto Tsar Osvoboditel again, beginning the last leg of the protest, bringing us back full circle. There were still people yelling cherveni boklutsi but not many, most people were walking quietly, chatting among themselves. I would follow the march to the end, I had booked a hotel room for the night, in the luxury hotel near the statue of the tsar; after the embassy warnings travelers were staying in hotels far from the protests, the rooms were cheap enough for me to afford. I would spend the night there and take the metro to campus in the morning. I glanced at my phone and saw that D. was already waiting for me to join him for a drink at the bar. He was right, D. had texted, meaning the writer I had met and the argument they had had, what’s happening is better than I thought, I can’t wait to talk to you, hurry up. We were still a few blocks away but a new chant had started up, utre pak , tomorrow again, it gave people fresh energy, everyone was chanting it, pumping their fists in the air. Even I joined in, utre pak , I wanted to see what it was like to chant with the others, but soon I felt foolish and stopped. There are grassy areas along that part of the boulevard, little gardens set back from the lights of the street, and so I didn’t see S. and his friends at first, they were gathered some distance from the pavement. A woman was standing and waving her arms above her head, that was what caught my attention, and as I approached I saw that S. was sitting on the ground, leaning into K., who had both her arms around him, and that he was holding something to his face. They had piled their signs in the grass beside them, what was left of their signs, they had all been torn to pieces. What happened, I asked the woman who had waved me over, and she answered in English, Some assholes showed up, she said, some of those assholes in masks, they grabbed our signs from us, and they hit S., she went on, when he tried to stop them they knocked him down. All these police and none of them did anything, she said, they’re assholes too, when we went to find them they said they would send someone but that was twenty minutes ago. They don’t care what happened to us, we’ve been calling them but they just keep telling us to wait.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    So I understand the protesters, there need to be protests, this government needs to disappear—but there’s nowhere to turn, the politicians, vsichki sa pedali , he said, they’re all faggots. He hadn’t asked me anything during the ride, none of the usual questions about who I was or where I was from, he couldn’t be sure how much of what he said I understood. But it didn’t matter, he was talking for his own benefit, I thought, for his own relief. We slowed again to a stop and he gave a low whistle as he looked at the traffic, which was completely jammed ahead near Levski Stadium, where the boulevard we were on crossed another by the little river that ran through Sofia, cordoned off in a concrete canal. It was called Perlovska, the pearly river, which made me laugh, since it was a drainage ditch, really, almost an open sewer; it was only called Perlovska on maps, nobody used the name in real life. My girlfriend, the driver said, she yells at me all the time, she says I work too hard, she wants me to spend more time with her, you know, she doesn’t understand. She’s from the mountains, her parents still live in the village, she likes to go there on the weekends, she wants me to go too. But tell me, he said, how do I have the time to go, I work twelve, fifteen hours a day, every day, you understand, I never take a day off. I love the mountains, he said, as if defending himself, running his fingers through his hair, which was cut close to the skull, I would love to go to the mountains, to get out of Sofia, in the mountains it’s clean, the air is good, you can breathe there, it’s not like here. Sofia used to be clean, he said, when I was a kid, I hated the Communists but you have to be honest, they kept things clean, it wasn’t like it is now. And people took care of each other then, he said, we were all fucked but we had solidarity. Now people just say fuck off— maika ti , he said, which means your mother, it’s a kind of contraction, when people are really angry they say maika ti da eba , I fuck your mother—nobody cares about the others, everybody steals whatever they can.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    She motioned to a man standing to one side, who was gesturing with his free hand while he spoke quickly into his phone. I’m so sorry, I said, do you need anything, is there anything I can do, but she shrugged this away. Does S. need a doctor, I asked, should we take him, but he cut me off, Ne , he said loudly, not moving or lowering his hand from his eye, he was pressing a bag of ice to it, I saw now, and the woman shrugged again. The cowards, the woman said, they were here and then they were gone, in their stupid masks. And what they said to us, they told us we were spreading trash, there are children here, they said, they said we were being—and she paused, looking at the others as she said bezsramni , shameless. Indecent, K. said then, they said we were indecent, they called us dirty queers. She spoke quietly, despite the noise of the protests, she spoke without anger or any trace of emotion; I could see why her children found her such a comfort. They’re fucking liars, S. said, pulling away from K. to sit upright, though she kept one arm around him. He lowered the bag from his eye, but in the dark I couldn’t see how bad it was, whether he was really hurt. Obedineni sme , he said, quoting one of their slogans, but we’re not united, they don’t want to be united with us. It’s all the same, he said, all this work and it’s always the same. No, K. said in her calm voice, no, that’s not true, you know that’s not true, but he snapped at her, he pulled away and said angrily It is true, it is true. He had been sitting with his legs stretched out but now he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. I’m so stupid, he said, I thought it would be different here, I thought these were the good people, the better people, they say they hate the Nazis from Ataka but they’re all the same, to us they’re all the same, they hate us, he said, speaking more loudly now, they hate us, I don’t understand it but they’ll always hate us. I hate them too, he said, they’ll never change, I hate this fucking country. Mrazya vi , he said then, louder still, I hate you.

  • From The Decameron (1353)

    Meanwhile Bruno and Buffalmacco, after laughing awhile with the keepers of the gate, proceeded with slow step to follow Calandrino afar off and presently coming to the door of his house, heard the cruel beating he was in act to give his wife; whereupon, making a show of having but then come back, they called Calandrino, who came to the window, all asweat and red with anger and vexation, and prayed them come up to him. Accordingly, they went up, making believe to be somewhat vexed, and seeing the room full of stones and the lady, all torn and dishevelled and black and blue in the face for bruises, weeping piteously in one corner of the room, whilst Calandrino sat in another, untrussed and panting like one forspent, eyed them awhile, then said, 'What is this, Calandrino? Art thou for building, that we see all these stones here? And Mistress Tessa, what aileth her? It seemeth thou hast beaten her. What is all this ado?' Calandrino, outwearied with the weight of the stones and the fury with which he had beaten his wife, no less than with chagrin for the luck which himseemed he had lost, could not muster breath to give them aught but broken words in reply; wherefore, as he delayed to answer, Buffalmacco went on, 'Harkye, Calandrino, whatever other cause for anger thou mightest have had, thou shouldst not have fooled us as thou hast done, in that, after thou hadst carried us off to seek with thee for the wonder-working stone, thou leftest us in the Mugnone, like a couple of gulls, and madest off home, without saying so much as God be with you or devil; the which we take exceeding ill; but assuredly this shall be the last trick thou shalt ever play us.'

  • From History of the Christian Church: The Complete Set of Eight Volumes (1858)

    (3). The anti-Christian Papacy. This interpretation was suggested by mediaeval sects hostile to Rome, and was matured by orthodox Protestant divines of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries under the fresh impression of the fearful persecutions which were directly instigated or approved by the papacy, and which surpass in cruelty and extent the persecutions of heathen Rome. It is asserted that the terrible Duke of Alva alone put more Protestants to death in the Netherlands within a few years than all the heathen emperors from Nero to Diocletian; and that the victims of the Spanish Inquisition (105,000 persons in eighteen years under Torquemada’s administration) outnumber the ancient martyrs. It became almost a Protestant article of faith that the mystical Babylon, the mother of harlots, riding on the beast, the woman drunken with the blood of the saints, and with the blood of the martyrs of Jesus (Apoc. 17:5 sqq.), is none other than the pseudo-Christian and anti-Christian church of Rome, and this view is still widely prevalent, especially in Great Britain and North America. Luther struck the key-note of this anti-popery exegesis. He had at first a very low opinion of the Apocalypse, and would not recognize it as apostolic or prophetic (1522), but afterward he utilized for polemic purposes (in a preface to his edition of the N. T. of 1530). He dated the one thousand years (Rev. 20:7) with Augustin from the composition of the book, and the six hundred and sixty-six years from Gregory VII., as the supposed founder of the papacy, and understood Gog and Magog to mean the unspeakable Turks and the Jews. As Gregory VII. was elected pope 1073, the anti-Christian era ought to have come to an end A.D. 1739; but that year passed off without any change in the history of the papacy.

  • From Reading the Bible from the Margins (2002)

    Upon entering the city, Absalom, on the advice of his counselor Ahithopel, thought of a way in which Absalom could consolidate his power and authority. The solution: he pitched a tent on the palace's housetop, in the sight of all Israel, and raped all of his father's concubines. This was not a sexual act motivated by lust; rather, women were the means by which Absalom could wrestle authority from his father. Absalom literally provided public notice that he had taken his father's place and was now in control of his father's possessions. A survey of the Law clearly shows how patriarchy is anchored in the Bible: 1) If a Hebrew man was sold into slavery, he served for six years, after which time he could leave with no compensation due. Female Hebrew slaves had to be bought back (Ex. 21:1–11). 2) A man who seduced (raped) a virgin had to either marry her or pay her father a fixed sum. Additionally, the victim of the seduction was not the virgin; rather it was her father, and so it was he who received compensation for the “spoiling” of his property (Ex. 22:15–16). 3) The firstborn son (or male animal) was consecrated unto the Lord; not so for the firstborn daughter (Deut. 15:19–23). 4) Three times a year only the menfolk had to present themselves before God during the great national feasts. Women did not have to do so (Ex. 23:14–19). 5) Women could not serve as priests, and priests could only marry virgins (Lev. 21:1–9). 6) A woman's parents had to prove their daughter was a virgin when she climbed into her new husband's bed (Deut. 22:13–21). No such requirements of sexual purity were expected of men. 7) If a man made a vow to God, he had to keep it, but if a woman made a vow, her father or husband had veto powers that could void the vow (Num. 30:1–17). 8) Women were frequently excluded from participating in Temple rituals and festivals due to the “uncleanliness” of their menstruation cycle (Lev. 15:19). 9) Only if a man died without having any sons would his inheritance pass to his daughters (Num. 27:8–9). 10) Women could be taken as war booty (Deut. 21:10–14). 11) A woman who gave birth to a boy was “unclean” for fourteen days, but if she gave birth to a girl, she was unclean for twice as long (Lev. 12:1–5). 12) Men could have multiple sex partners, even to the point of maintaining a harem. Women could only have one sex partner (Lev. 18:18). 13) A husband who suspected his wife of infidelity could have her ingest a bitter elixir before the priest—if she survived, she was faithful; if she was afflicted, she was guilty of adultery (Num. 5:11–31). Men did not need to drink such brews. Probably the most blatant abuse of sexism was the determination of the value of a person dedicated by a vow to God.

  • From Reading the Bible from the Margins (2002)

    The responsibility is to seek reconciliation before coming to God once one is made aware that an offense exists. Those who read the Bible from the margins have given notice that they are offended by racist, sexist, and classist structures and await the good churchgoing Christians of the dominant culture to leave their sacrifices at the altar and seek them out to establish reconciliation. All the dominant culture accomplishes by cheap forgiveness is the creation of a multicultural facade where we occasionally may gather to hold hands and sing “Kumbaya.” But it always ends the same, with everyone returning to their segregated lives. Racism, classism, and sexism continue to be society's dirty secret, as injustices continue. We continue to pat ourselves on the back celebrating how much has been accomplished in establishing “justice for all” when all the while we continue to disintegrate as a society. And what about the church? It abrogates its mandate to become one body in Christ and leads believers further away from the living God. First John reminds us, “Anyone claiming to be in the light, yet hating his fellow human, is still in the darkness” (2:9). To be saved means to be reconciled with the God we cannot see and our fellow human beings whom we can see. A lack of reconciliation is a sign of absent salvation. Because cheap forgiveness never leads to reconciliation, it can never lead to salvation. However, by listening carefully to the voiceless, the dominant culture can learn something about itself that might lead it to a salvific understanding of the biblical message. WHAT THE CENTER CAN LEARN ABOUT THE BIBLE All too often, those who occupy the center of power and privilege find the interpretations generated from the margins of society to be reductionist. These interpretations are at times perceived to be reduced to political positions that are contrary to the interest of the dominant culture. Such critiques ignore that the disenfranchised ascribe to their biblical interpretations an inclusiveness that requires both a spiritual and a political response to injustice. Reading the biblical texts leads believers to judge and condemn any present oppressive structures that cause death to segments of the population. One cannot remain silent while God's people are crucified. Rather, the hope for salvation and liberation forces the Bible reader to claim the recurring themes found throughout the book. The themes that serve as the foundation for how marginalized communities read the text also serve as a corrective to the highly individualistic and spiritual interpretations coming from the center of society. Four related themes about God inform how society is challenged by the way marginalized groups read biblical texts. These texts reveal a God who is the liberator, the seeker of justice, the doer, and the subverter. Exodus: God the Liberator The God of Exodus is not some abstract, impassive cosmic Being that utterly transcends the human dilemma.

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    They’re fucking liars, S. said, pulling away from K. to sit upright, though she kept one arm around him. He lowered the bag from his eye, but in the dark I couldn’t see how bad it was, whether he was really hurt. Obedineni sme, he said, quoting one of their slogans, but we’re not united, they don’t want to be united with us. It’s all the same, he said, all this work and it’s always the same. No, K. said in her calm voice, no, that’s not true, you know that’s not true, but he snapped at her, he pulled away and said angrily It is true, it is true. He had been sitting with his legs stretched out but now he pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them. I’m so stupid, he said, I thought it would be different here, I thought these were the good people, the better people, they say they hate the Nazis from Ataka but they’re all the same, to us they’re all the same, they hate us, he said, speaking more loudly now, they hate us, I don’t understand it but they’ll always hate us. I hate them too, he said, they’ll never change, I hate this fucking country. Mrazya vi, he said then, louder still, I hate you. He was speaking to the protesters now, the last of them passing by on the boulevard, mrazya vi, mrazya vi, each time saying it more loudly and angrily, so that people began to look our way; it made me nervous, and the others too, everyone moved just slightly toward one another. But none of the marchers stopped, they looked at us a moment and then looked away. K. kept putting her hand on S.’s back and he kept shaking it off, he didn’t want to be comforted. Mrazya vi, he said a final time, almost shouting it, and then his voice caught, he lowered his forehead against his knees. He let K. put her arm around him then, and after a moment he leaned back into her and returned the ice to his eye.

  • From Branded: Brainwashed Inside NXIVM (2020)

    1689 01:25:09,704 --> 01:25:13,875 three times the maximum of her guideline sentence. 1690 01:25:13,975 --> 01:25:16,544 [Narrator] Authorities determine Sarah Bronfman, 1691 01:25:16,644 --> 01:25:20,014 Clare's sister, was not as involved in the organization, 1692 01:25:20,115 --> 01:25:22,383 and therefore declined to charge her. 1693 01:25:23,785 --> 01:25:26,955 In the end, the devastation Raniere inflicted on 1694 01:25:27,055 --> 01:25:29,057 all those in his orbit 1695 01:25:29,157 --> 01:25:32,861 far exceeds the cult's 20-year existence. 1696 01:25:32,961 --> 01:25:34,796 [Dr. Lauch] I've been doing this for close to 40 years, 1697 01:25:34,896 --> 01:25:37,899 and I've studied and heard about so many cults. 1698 01:25:37,999 --> 01:25:41,369 But he's at the top of my list of 1699 01:25:41,469 --> 01:25:46,040 really abusive, evil cult leader. 1700 01:25:46,141 --> 01:25:49,511 He's a pedophile, 1701 01:25:49,611 --> 01:25:53,348 a sexual abuser, a misogynist. 1702 01:25:53,448 --> 01:25:55,817 There's hardly a label you can't apply to him, 1703 01:25:55,917 --> 01:25:58,686 [laughs] I'm sorry to say. 1704 01:25:58,786 --> 01:26:01,723 [Rick] When it came to being a manipulator, 1705 01:26:01,823 --> 01:26:03,191 he was a savant. 1706 01:26:03,291 --> 01:26:06,728 He could smell weakness. 1707 01:26:06,828 --> 01:26:09,430 He could really identify 1708 01:26:09,531 --> 01:26:12,934 what were the critical weaknesses in people, 1709 01:26:13,034 --> 01:26:14,502 their vulnerabilities, 1710 01:26:14,602 --> 01:26:16,738 and he would drill down into that 1711 01:26:16,838 --> 01:26:18,006 and crack them open. 1712 01:26:18,106 --> 01:26:20,875 He was very, very adept at that. 1713 01:26:20,975 --> 01:26:24,779 [Kelly] There's no one person or one thing out there 1714 01:26:24,879 --> 01:26:26,881 that's gonna have the answer for you. 1715 01:26:26,981 --> 01:26:28,283 It's all right here. 1716 01:26:28,383 --> 01:26:30,318 And I learned that the hard way. 1717 01:26:34,222 --> 01:26:46,367 [music] 1718 01:27:24,806 --> 01:27:26,608 ♪ Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh 1719 01:27:28,743 --> 01:27:29,744 [ding ding]

  • From Reading the Bible from the Margins (2002)

    During the height of the violence, Rodney King went on television and uttered his now famous plea, “Guys, can't we all just get along?” One of the political victims of the 1992 Los Angeles race riots was the police chief, Daryl Gates, who was eventually forced to resign. A decade later, reflecting on the events that led to the riots, Gates defiantly concluded, “[King] got whacked a few extra times [but he] brought it on himself.”1 How can we get along when those who are placed in positions of power refuse to acknowledge that a problem exists? When the fault of police brutality is placed upon the victim, who brought the “whacking” upon himself? When no apology is given? Still, Rodney King's plea for unity continues to haunt us today. Can't we all just get along? As long as the dominant culture refuses to accept the reality that it benefits from social structures designed to enhance its power and privilege, then no, we cannot all get along. As long as the nation's sins of racism, classism, and sexism continue to remain masked, then no, we cannot get along. As long as this society avoids reconciliation through dismantling oppressive structures, then no, we cannot get along. We continue to exist as a vastly divided nation that sits on a powder keg ready to explode when the next Rodney King occurs, as most recently happened on the streets of Cincinnati when a nineteen-year-old unarmed black man was shot by the police for a traffic violation. What awaits us if we continue to insist on coexisting as two nations, segregated and unequal? Jesus says it best in Matthew: “Every government divided against itself is brought to ruin, and every city or house divided against itself will not stand” (12:25). THE DYSFUNCTIONAL FAMILY A dysfunctional family is usually one being torn apart by a secret everyone knows about but refuses to voice out loud. Dad has a mistress, mom is an alcoholic, sister is a drug addict, or uncle Joe is a child molester. These examples create tension within the family, even as the family pretends nothing is wrong and continues to operate under a facade of normalcy. Without expressing what no one wants to hear yet everyone knows, the family can never begin to work out its problems. Eventually, cracks develop in the family's public persona as it rushes toward disintegration. With time, the family falls apart as each member, wounded by the encounter, attempts to create a new life apart from the family. Wounds that are ignored simply fester, leading individuals toward unhealthy or destructive behavior and lifestyles. Like a dysfunctional family, this society also has its own dirty little secrets: racism, classism, and sexism. Everyone knows they exist, but seldom do we want to talk about them or take responsibility. What the dominant culture basically wants is for people who have suffered under oppressive structures to simply forgive and forget so that society can move on.

  • From Saint Thomas Aquinas Collection (22 Books) (2016)

    Reply to Objection 2: As the Philosopher says (Ethic. v, 11), “metaphorically speaking there is a certain justice and injustice between a man and himself,” in so far as the reason rules the irascible and concupiscible parts of the soul. And in this sense a man is said to be avenged on himself, and consequently, to be angry with himself. But properly, and in accordance with the nature of things, a man is never angry with himself. Reply to Objection 3: The Philosopher (Rhet. ii, 4) assigns as one difference between hatred and anger, that “hatred may be felt towards a class, as we hate the entire class of thieves; whereas anger is directed only towards an individual.” The reason is that hatred arises from our considering a quality as disagreeing with our disposition; and this may refer to a thing in general or in particular. Anger, on the other hand, ensues from someone having injured us by his action. Now all actions are the deeds of individuals: and consequently anger is always pointed at an individual. When the whole state hurts us, the whole state is reckoned as one individual [*Cf.[1426] Q[29], A[6]]. Whether the species of anger are suitably assigned?Objection 1: It would seem that Damascene (De Fide Orth. ii, 16) unsuitably assigns three species of anger—“wrath,” “ill-will” and “rancor.” For no genus derives its specific differences from accidents. But these three are diversified in respect of an accident: because “the beginning of the movement of anger is called wrath {cholos}, if anger continue it is called ill-will {menis}; while rancor {kotos} is anger waiting for an opportunity of vengeance.” Therefore these are not different species of anger. Objection 2: Further, Cicero says (De Quaest. Tusc. iv, 9) that “excandescentia [irascibility] is what the Greeks call {thymosis}, and is a kind of anger that arises and subsides intermittently”; while according to Damascene {thymosis}, is the same as the Greek {kotos} [rancor]. Therefore {kotos} does not bide its time for taking vengeance, but in course of time spends itself. Objection 3: Further, Gregory (Moral. xxi, 4) gives three degrees of anger, namely, “anger without utterance, anger with utterance, and anger with perfection of speech,” corresponding to the three degrees mentioned by Our Lord (Mat. 5:22): “Whosoever is angry with his brother” [thus implying “anger without utterance”], and then, “whosoever shall say to his brother, ‘Raca’” [implying “anger with utterance yet without full expression”], and lastly, “whosoever shall say ‘Thou fool’” [where we have “perfection of speech”]. Therefore Damascene’s division is imperfect, since it takes no account of utterance. On the contrary, stands the authority of Damascene (De Fide Orth. ii, 16) and Gregory of Nyssa [*Nemesius, De Nat. Hom. xxi.].

  • From Reading the Bible from the Margins (2002)

    Does it make a difference in the interpretations if you are the victors or the parents whose babies will be dashed against rocks? Can the biblical text be read objectively so as to discover how these troubling verses are to be applied in the twenty-first century? As the previous chapter mentioned, everyone approaches the Bible from her or his particular social location. The idea of reading the text from a position of complete “objectivity” is a myth constructed to protect the privileged space of those with the power to legitimize their interpretations. Yet, when those who are marginalized read the biblical text with their own eyes, they find their pain within the biblical story. In using the Bible as a source of reconciliation, salvation, and liberation, those within the margins of society realize that the Bible has also been historically used as a source of alienation, damnation, and subjugation. It is not the Bible that saves but the justice-based actions (praxis) rooted in the reading of the Bible, a reading that liberates when done from a marginalized perspective. Such a reading moves one to think beyond the Bible as simply a text of rules dictated by a God that must be unquestionably obeyed. Social location plays a crucial role in the reading (and the original writing) of the text. When this reading is done by those struggling with oppressive structures, liberation from these same structures becomes the means by which all Christians can move beyond the perception of the Bible as simply a “rule book.” If reading a text implies its application, then those who are disenfranchised, those who live in the underside of Euroamerican history, are the ones who can hear God's words in the context of their own suffering, making their oppressed existence part of the text's interpretation. Such a reading provides a fuller revelation of the Scriptures, a revelation that remains obscure to the dominant culture. Because they have learned how to function in a vulnerable realm constructed by those with power and privilege, they know more about the overall Euroamerican existence, which includes the sphere occupied by the dominant culture, than those with power know about their lives as subjugated “others.” This does not confer truth exclusively on the oppressed. It only states that they are in a better position to understand the biblical call for justice than those who deceive themselves into thinking justice already exists. If reading the Bible from the margins provides a closer understanding of the gospel message, then how is the Bible read from the center, from within the dominant power structures? How is the Bible constructed to justify oppressive structures that protect the power and privilege of the center at the expense of the margins? At the very least, how is the Bible understood so as to encourage the dominant culture to remain complicit with racism, classism, and sexism?

  • From Cleanness (2020)

    Stop, he said. He was still looking at the window, not at his own reflection but at something in the far distance, though there wasn’t a far distance, there was just the garden wall invisible in the dark. Just stop, he said, you don’t know what you’re talking about, and when he turned his gaze to mine I could see he was angry. You’re talking to me like a child, he said, I’m not a child, you can’t talk to me like that. I’m sorry, I said quickly, meaning it, I didn’t want you to feel that, really, I’m sorry. He was silent then, he turned back to the window, as though there were something to see there, and I thought I could see him let go of his anger, all at once, his shoulders slumped a little as it went. The wind continued its assault, its constant charge against the glass, but R. wasn’t flinching from it anymore, he seemed almost to be leaning toward the window as he gazed through it, or maybe he was just leaning away from me.

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