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The Angle

First Page

21

Last Page

21

Abstract

In lieu of an abstract, below is the essay's first paragraph.

"It's much too dangerous to think about passion. Not the chintzy, wussified run-of-the-mill slag kin to the sappy droning of today's lyricists, or the crude rhetoric eternized in tasteless soap operas; not even the sickening popularity of tawdry mantras immortalized on hats and t-shirts. No, not these; but true passion, real passion is like a deep, throaty hunger that kicks and rages at your innards, feeding on your convictions until quenched. It gnaws - bathing the psyche in awes and crippling fears - emasculating sense and logic. Yes true passion bleeds angst and appetite, taking captive the strong and weak alike - its fortress impenetrable. Unrelenting and vicious, it pounds with calloused fists - desperate, hungry - drawing blood with every jab, with every thrust. But you take it. Madly, wantonly, you receive its punishment, its vengeance, knowing that despite its afflictions, you're wiser - better- for it. Better? Yes, better because the torrid thirsts that lapped at your insides are hidden no more. The morbid hungers that panged in your chest are bared for eyes to see. The furor, the fear, your secrets are out in the open. See them? They're right there. No, not there; but there, congealed in your mangled frame and battered skin mixed in the flow of your hot and oozing wounds. There, in passion's nest - in hunger's wake - lives your secret, lies your truth: you want him."

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