Op-Ed: The Museum of Hate and Anger

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Welcome to the "Museum of Hate and Anger", this particular one was started about 35 years ago, and continues to grow and change with time. I'd like to give you a few facts before we start our tour. First, I'd like to invite you to stay and enjoy the museum as long as you like. You can eat here, sleep here, even live here if you're interested. There's an excellent communications room where you can make phone calls, send emails, write blogs, send letters, whatever you need to tell others about the Museum. I'm sure you're going to feel right at home here, and before you leave, there will be information on how to start and grow your very own Museum of Hate and Anger. Alright then, let's get started....

Over here is one of the earliest pieces that helped get the Museum started. It's called, "I Hate My Sister", although really any family member could be substituted and the piece would still be as magnificent. I want you to notice how the pedestal has been intricately carved and detailed to show the facts and details supporting the title of the piece. Each and every wrongdoing, name calling, toy breaking, boyfriend stealing event has been documented. As the evidence supporting the title for this piece grows - and every piece in the museum grows - the pedestal is enlarged and the details are added.

Now around this first piece, we have this beautiful glass case to protect it from being altered. I mean, we wouldn't want someone to come in here and try to remove any of the details from the piece, or cover them with some silly thing like a kiss or a big "I'm sorry!" sign, now would we?

The lighting on the case is exquisite, helping to magnify every small detail and engraving to its smallest degree. Notice how something so small as this little comment here, "I'm smarter than you are!" really catches the light and seems to be magnified when the light hits it just right. Isn't that amazing?

I'd like you all to walk around the piece several times, absorbing all that has been put into this particular display. Feel the pain and anger, and let the feelings of hate flow over you so you can truly appreciate what the artist who placed it here wanted you to know. Can you see how this person wronged the one who created it? Weren't they terrible for everything they ever said, and did, and meant to do but didn't do? Oh, that must be one of the most vile sisters ever known to mankind!

Once you've had a chance to finish looking at every last detail of this piece, I want you to know that you are welcome to stay here and I can go over it again and again with you. You can feel free to tell my about your similar experiences, and how you might set up your own display in your Museum Of Hate and Anger.

For those who would like to go on, we have a seemingly endless variety of exhibits for you to enjoy. There's the "Husband or Wife Bashing" gallery, the "My Father Never Loved Me" hall, the "Worst Boss or Job in the World" wing...and so on. Here's a map, and there will be other caretakers throughout the Museum to help you find the exhibits you'll most enjoy.

"Excuse me...but where does that door over there lead?" asks a visitor.

Oh, THAT door. You don't want THAT door. That's to door that leads to FORGIVENESS. It's a one-way out door and you won't be able to come back and visit this Museum again, I'm afraid. All you'll have is just your little ticket stub to show that you were even here, but FORGIVENESS means your Museum days are over. No more highlighting the wrongs of our life, no more focusing our anger at those who hurt us, or didn't love us enough, that sort of thing. I've heard it's really quite boring out there (shudders), I really don't know why anyone would want to go THERE.

"Well, I think I'd like to try that door, just the same."

How about you? Have you set up your own Museum of Hate and Anger? Do you spend hours, weeks, years of your life there, nurturing and expanding the displays of hurt, inviting others to do the same? Why not try turning off the spotlights, breaking the glass around your exhibits, and leaving the memory of those things in the dark, gathering cobwebs. Forgiven, but not necessarily forgotten, is the door that's waiting for you.