For years now I've been taking my boiled over rage out on inanimate objects. Namely through cursing and downright belittling things that can't talk back. Whether it's a traffic stoplight which seems to have a personal vendetta against me, always changing its colors at the most inconvenient times, causing sudden stops, near death encounters and the beverage of the hour to go a flying, or, a great Nemesis of young childhood, bad video game controllers.
Many of my childhood hours were spent with the NES, completely disillusioned, at times, from what was going on in the real world, but thoroughly engrossed with finishing Iceman's stage before Miami Vice made its nightly appearance. At times that good old NES controller would receive so much verbal abuse form my adolescent lips. After verbally ripping that controller a new one, sometimes I'd look down at that black and grey rectangle and just reflect on how juvenile my actions were. Almost at that exact moment of doubt I'd be reminded why I hated that controller so much; the d-pad/A-B buttons took the liberty of painfully mapping themselves on the tips of my fingers. This meant war. Remembering back, frustrated at many failed attempts to accomplish a sequence of timed jumps in one of the Mega Man titles, my rage entered a new level. This controller must die, grasping that anti-ergonomic piece of crap with both hands, I twisted and tried to destroy what Nintendo had given me to waste endless "man" after "man" on said level, time and time again. My attempts were futile, that controller wasn't breaking in half, the only consolation I had was to curse at it to the high heavens. After insulting that controller's mother many times, somehow that took a tidbit of that animosity away. Just enough to attempt that near to impossible stage again. And what is to thank? Though it may seem like insanity, the luxury to curse at inanimate objects. It's my solution to some of life's smaller annoyances.