"Mouth is alive with juices like wine, and I'm hungry like the wolf..." - Duran Duran
I arrived home yesterday and Jenny's car was in the wrong spot. Irritated, I parked my car and went inside where she spoke sternly at me about a missing ingredient to the Macaroni and Cheese she was preparing, which she then left me to finish making as she stormed off. While we didn't realize it in the moment, The Hanger had taken hold.
No, I'm not talking about what holds your clothes in the closet or some crude back-alley abortion tool. The Hanger I refer to is a contraction of the words Hunger and Anger... and it is Strong in us, for when we get Hangry, there is nothing that can get in our way that won't be smashed. The dog cowers, the neighbors whisper, we bare our teeth.
But is Hanger a legitimate excuse for bad behavior? Is it possible that Tunisia's Jasmine Revolution is just a result of Hanger gone unchecked? Are the poverty-stricken really just a class of angry bums?
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