Who says revenge isn't sweet? Never before has it been more professionally expedient to seek vengeance. From Mackenzie Phillips to Levi Johnston to "Eat, Pray, Love" author Elizabeth Gilbert's ex-husband, who's writing his own book, presumably titled, "Seethe, Avenge, Cash Massive Check," the airwaves and bookshelves are packed by stories from the scorned, the abused, the rejected, all looking to wash their hatred and torment away in the cleansing brilliance of the limelight.
My posting today is taken from an great article by Heather Havrilesky over at Salon.com. I think she really nailed how the human psyche works.
Heather says, "Let's not judge these sound-bite-spewing tattletales too harshly. Because we all hold grudges, don’t we? Sure, we pretend not to, with our therapy-speak about "That's all in the past," and "I wish him the best" and "I would send the bastrard a congratulatory wedding present if I knew where the shameless gutter rat had crawled off to."
Let's face it: It's tough to let go of the past completely, or we wouldn't collect a colorful assortment of Facebook frenemies or Google the ex-girlfriends of long-lost ex-boyfriends to see how their boob jobs have weathered the storm of the childbearing years.
Revenge may be pathetic but that's okay if it comes with a big, fat paycheck attached.
Revenge, like a fine wine, is complicated. It's also sweet – even a little too fruity for most palates – with a strong finish of regret and self-loathing. So while the vengeful avengers of the world gain fame and fortune from their vengeance, let us all savor the honor and dignity and extreme poverty that come from keeping our fat mouths shut.