UNDER THE SHADE OF COWARDICE
There are two major shades or colors, for that matter: black and white. One is a color actually and the other an absence of color. In other words, there is just one; the other simply is the reverse, non existent but for purposes of relation, an invented term.
In the realm of action, there is also inaction on the flip side. In movies or novels, there is the protagonist and the villain. In politics, there is the winner and the opposition. In war, there is only death.
There are situations that invite criticism. And there are the doers on one hand and the critics on the other. They are there as balancing forces. They promote proportion and skim excesses. They are actually, although at odds, complimenting each one.
In government service, there are those who hide under the cloak of anonymity. They are never recognized but they wanted to create a ripple of concern but could not make their presence above ground. And so, they would rather express themselves through letters, rejoinders even complaints bearing nothing of their real names but adopting names from nowhere. If there is anything to describe this manner, the term cowardice is the kindest; traitor oftentimes is most likely inferred on what has been implied as characteristic.
There is cowardice when anyone is not inclined to confront any one or any issue in a frontal manner. It is oftentimes used to get even without any risk at all. They relish at the thought of besmirching without having to be questioned directly. They are there merely to spoil. They are there to rock the boat. They are there literally to tilt the powerful. They are virtually the symbol of the weak, the disenfranchised, the so called slaves. They have a life of their own derived from the force of spinelessness. And since they have no backbone of their own, they live under the shade of their host like parasites and other low life. Their only persuasion is to hurt a person, to attack in the comfort of darkness, to harass for its own sake.
They live a lonely life. They are never satisfied at all when prosperity bears the imprint of their environment. They are highly suspicious. They question everything that brings forth consolation much more so if it does not benefit them. They want relief but not as a result of competence from others but rather on how they would conduct it. Without them at the core, everything is for them out of order.
Rebels and doers are their exact opposite. The strength of anonymous complainants is founded on weakness. They merely subsist on the crumbs of somebody else’s accomplishments which they would discount and find time to assault. And for them, that is the high point of their career. To bother, to disturb without being known, to upset and cause discomfort is precisely their mission. The world for them must be populated with those similarly situated, full of hatred, full of angst, full of envy. Their accomplishment lay on seeing distress, on watching discomfort, on feeling the pain drawn on the response of their target. It is for them what life is all about, the meaning of their existence, the definition of their career.
Cowards die a thousand deaths as one philosopher once suggested. And indeed. They enjoy dying actually. The death, the demise, the passing away of their target is a high point of their existence and they strive to live more if only to inflict the same sadistic end on others.
It is not an ailment they are suffering. It is not a disease. It is not only a mind frame, it is a way of life. Cowards live longer than heroes but never enjoyed life at all.