There are things that inspire me to envy and rage and covetousness, but all of them are ultimately fugitive and meaningless. Which is some comfort at least. The things that I feel matter are also comparatively fugitive, now that I think about it; but I like to think (or rather, cautiously hope) that they are less fugitive, ultimately more consequential. It's a rather conservative, unambitious hope, but I guess I do well enough with it.

I wonder if it's possible for revenge not to be a self-destructive appetite. Given that the desire for revenge is a response to a perceived injury, I doubt that revenge can be sustained after the injury that inspired it has healed, so, presumably, a commitment to revenge implies some corresponding proscription of healing. I suppose you could still make a point of evening the score with someone even after you'd put the injury inflicted behind you, but without a retributive element I don't think this reciprocal injury could still be considered revenge. Well, I still feel the appetite for revenge occasionally. The word 'retribution' possesses a certain undeniable black charm when I roll it around in my head. I suppose this means I'm still carrying grudges. I guess I should get rid of them. Meh. Tomorrow perhaps.

But it does help knowing that these perceived slights of mine are ultimately inconsequential, futile; the spheres in which they were committed are inescapably delusory. Or if not essentially delusory, then irretrievably mired in delusion at least. Either way, signs and wonders at any rate. Ok, frequently very distressing, disconcerting, dismaying signs and wonders; but what are you going to do.

On another note, I'm now going to go see Battle Royale II; hurrah. If it doesn't suck I'll say so when I get back.