Fred-God Hates Fags-Phleps

I heard through the grapevine that Fred-God Hates Fags-Phelps has passed away. I'm not going to rejoice in the loss of a life. I 'm not going to celebrate the death of a human being, one who like all of us held infinite possibilities. Imagine if he had used his influence and passion to make the world around us a softer, gentler, kinder place. Imagine if he had taken a fraction of that hate and turned it into something, anything positive.
Imagine.

I'm not one to say "whoo-hoo" when all of that potential has been lost, wasted.
Does he deserve, even now, upon the time of his death, to be ridiculed and shamed for all of the pain and anguish and general douchebaggery that he inflicted upon everyone that he encountered?  Absolutely yes.
But doing so accomplishes nothing but to bring us down to the levels, the depths, the cesspools that he and his ilk flourish in. We're better than that. We are. All of us are better than that. Even you over there. Yeah, you.

I believe that we need to recognize the loss. Recognize the missed opportunity to utilize passion and conviction to better this world, and to ponder how we can protect our public from another who will surely come along carrying this brand of hate and intolerance.

I won't go so far as to say I mourn his passing, because I don't. And I won't go so far as to say that I celebrate his passing, again, because I don't. But I do have a bit of hope flourishing inside me that maybe, just maybe some of that hatred that he harbored has at long last faded out of existence along with him.

Introversion

I write
because my brushes have dried,
and I paint
because my pen has no ink...
I learn
because what they taught me were lies,
and I swim
so that I don't sink.
I recoil
because I know the pain of a burn
and I love
because it feels better than hate.
I guess it's been my life lesson to learn
how to master the path of my fate.

Angela J. Schleicher © 2010