Anger is a beautiful word. It's an even more profound emotion.
It's an emotion most people cant hide and don't hide. Heck, they highlight it. And in its altruistic expression, much of the world we know is born.
I love to see what anger can do to a person, sometimes for a person. Some men wear their anger like a military haircut. Ruthless, unforgiving but deeply flattering to those with the hairline for it. Some women wear it like an expensive perfume, in potent but miniscule doses that hint at danger without ever suggesting it. Of course, there are those who rant and rave. The breakers of fine bone china and the slammers of doors. But the universe is oblivious to their anger. Then, there are those who will pour their anger into works of art and song and all that la di da. But really, anger deserves more original expression. Vent it not.
The truth is that quality anger is really hard to come by any more. What with political correctness and appropriate public conduct and all that, potential angry men and women are a dying breed. They prefer to hide behind glowering eyes and polite sniffles. Barbed words, frown lines and cold shoulders are commonplace. But give me a really really really angry human being anyday. All the world warms up to a fire. But no one has any use for smoke.