Its like learning to talk all over again

Although quite soothing at the time, I feel that rants are counterproductive. When I re-read a rant that I have penned, I usually feel that it could have been much more watertight. The sheer force of emotion that goes along with some of my rants makes up for the slight exaggeration sometimes, but in reality, it does much to take away from the argument. The first sign I look for in somone who is arguing with me or anyone else is whethere there is a layer of emotion present in their arguments. As a debater, I have learnt to exploit this emotion in others while trying to master it in my own arguments. It is fine to be emotional, but to show that emotion is like giving your opponent/detractors the ability to rip apart your argument, or worse, belittle your ideas and opinions by using such phrases as, "to each his own".

I feel myself becoming less brash, less likely to jump to conclusions. I don't know why this is exactly, although I have a few ideas: there is the sudden realisation that I am upon my 25th year of life; or I am becoming slightly more realistic, realising perhaps that screaming out to the heavens in my anger and frustration will never result in an echo, that this world is as it is and maybe, just maybe I don't have the power to change it. Its a damning realisation for an idealist like me. Its a painful realisation for a dreamer like me. Its a saddening realisation because I thought I could change the world with my own two hands.

I feel myself growing older- which is not a negative thing, quite the contrary actually, I feel. Its a wierd feeling to realise that you are capable of much, yet the fervour you once had has withered in the face of 'this world'. Sometimes I feel like I should have been born in the 60s or a decade sometime in the past like it, not because of the drugs mind you, but because a person could pick up a construction cone and yell into it inspiring a mass of people to march on embassies, air force bases and banks. It was a different time, when people had tasted success and luxury, yet were unbowed by it. Middle class folk were still willing to walk out and fight for someone else's right to an education, to healthcare, to food. Now, if a person drops two quarters in a homeless guy's empty cup, he feels like a good samaritan. Its a different world, and although I have never lived in any other world but this one, the optimist in me would like to quip up and say, perhaps sometime in our history we were all better than this.

Call it a product of my evolving psyche, but I'd much rather quip these days than rant. Maybe its just that I can't yell too well in my old age.

* this post started out as a comment to the previous post, but I surprised even myself by how much I had to say on the subject. Ok ok.. I'm just long-winded, I know.