The anger of the righteous, I thought, would spin the world on its head, shake up the unmoved and blow a storm of wonderful change.
Today, I realised, it comes with a nitpickiness of such painful proportions that change be damned, how would the crusaders fight the big fights, if the little ones occupy all their waking hours? If wrong is wrong, and there is no little and big wrong, then I severely misjudged righteous warfare. If it is simply target practise, he is wasting ammunition.
A man seeking change today lost an ardent supporter. Far from admiration, all I can summon is dismissive rage.
