One of the really great things about the ‘Hate Your Way To Happiness
’ programme is its ability to open up your eyes to new forms and subjects of hatreds you had previously tolerated or ignored.
Focusing on your inner hatred allows you to explore more fully your feelings of outrage, disgust, irritation and anger towards a brave new world of stuff and people that you do not like. At ALL. Or very much.
For example, recently I was walking along the street when a man walking in the opposite direction brushed his shoulder against me. Bear in mind that this is not a busy street – there was sufficient space for him to have avoided contact with me completely, leaving us both ‘un-brushed’. But brush he did.
Before I had invented the unique and innovative HYWTH
method, I would probably have accepted this as a mild irritant and continued to go about my day AS IF NOTHING HAD HAPPENED. But something had happened, hadn’t it? I had been NEEDLESSLY BRUSHED.
To my eternal credit, I stopped in my tracks. I turned. And I bellowed.
“What the fuck was that all about then, you fucker?” I yelled, with passion. And also vim.
My assailant failed to turn around, so I was forced to run behind him until I was able to tap him upon the shoulder. At this, he spun wildly, and eyes ablaze, screamed: “And what the fuck do you think you’re doing, you horrible snivelling cunt?”
I couldn’t help myself. I was convulsed with laughter. Ha ha ha, I laughed, and followed that with a number of ‘ho ho’s and a certain amount of hee hee heeing.
What was so funny to me, and thus causing my laughter, was that my so-called ‘assailant’ was actually my friend Steven. Steven had previously explored the limits of his own hatred in some intensive HYWTH
sessions with me, and was therefore only behaving in a way which was natural to his newly ‘aware’ self. See? Very funny stuff.
After we’d stopped slapping our knees and squirting milk out of our noses [where does that milk come from? It’s ALWAYS there when you’re having a laugh!] we retired to a public house, where we supped on ales and told each other lies about our sporting prowess, earning potential and sexual history.
Eventually we had a minor disagreement over the actual source of the Ganges, and engaged in mild, inebriated fisticuffs. Our drunken efforts were met with bemusement by the landlord, who ordered us out of his establishment, which we later firebombed.
As I stand here basking in the warm glow of that burning inn, one hand on my keyboard and the other gently punching Steven in the arm, I think to myself: Could this have happened without the miracle of HYWTH
Ultimately, the answer is yes. Yes, it could. Quite easily. But that’s not the point, is it? The point is, hate can bring people together. Even if one of them is a stupid shoulder-brushing fucker.
Cheers, Steve. This one goes out to you.
Hate on, brother.