All this rain also made me think for a bit. I find it interesting how we tend to hate rain. But rain is just water; at least that’s what I believe. We like to take a bath, but we hate rain. That can be a bit absurd. When water comes from the faucet or shower, we like it. We don’t mind. We are even thankful for it. When water (which comes flavored in some brands) comes from sealed plastic bottles, we love it. We gulp it with gusto. Whether the water is hot or cold, we don’t mind. But when water comes from the skies, we hate it. We shun it. We run away from it. We even protect ourselves from it. We even fear it. If you’ve seen people rush for the nearest shed during a sudden shower, you’d think they were running away from artillery barrage. Then once at the shed, they would look at each other and smile a smile of relief. It would seem they’re so relieved to have narrowly escaped death. Now, what gives? H2O is H2O, whether from the faucet or from the sky. Outside of acid rain, rainwater is still water. Again, what gives?
As with all things, it depends on the perspective. For people in the city, it’s understandable why rain is well-hated. Rain makes it hard to commute; makes it tough to go anywhere. Rain floods our streets, wets our clothes, ruins our hair, and soaks our socks and shoes. Rain means traffic, slippery roads, less fun outside, cold weather—basically a dismal day.
But I don’t think we hate rain for those reasons. Flooding is our fault—we know zilch about trash management and city planning. Traffic? Rain or shine, it’s a fixture. Cold weather? Get a jacket. Gets you wet? If I’m not mistaken that’s what raincoats and umbrellas are for. I mean we can live with rain. If we can live with the corruption of our government and our apathy towards the state of our nation, rain should be small fry. (It’s funny how we hate the rain more than those who fool around with our “hard-earned” money. It’s a case of misappropriated anger. But anger and hate are emotions, so go figure.)
So when you consider it a little, it’s not really rain that bugs us. What we hate is what rain brings, not rain itself. But is this true? We still say we hate rain. We say: “Expletive! It’s raining again!” So what do we hate about rain? It’s not like we can’t do something about it…
That’s when I went: “Ah! Eureka!” Maybe that’s the case. We hate rain, not for its effects, but because we can’t do anything about it. You know what they say how you can’t stop the rain? Then I go: “Aha! Typical of humans! It’s control! We hate rain because it does not have a remote control!”
Think about it: it seldom rains when you want it. It always rains when you don’t want it to rain. When you have outdoor plans, it rains. When you don’t have an umbrella, it rains. You’re at your best clothes, it rains. When you’re going to some place important, it rains. As Alanis said, it’s your wedding day (a garden wedding), it rains. You had your heart broken, it rains. You just finished hanging the clothes to dry, it rains. You’re a gremlin, it rains. It goes on. Feel free to add your own experience. But the fact is, during those times, you wanted the rain to stop. But it won’t. You can’t. No matter what you do, it won’t stop. Rain is insensitive. It’s unmerciful. It doesn’t care about you or your concerns. Who are you to the rain anyway? The rain would just say: “Shut up. Here, have some more rain.” So, you hate it. You can have your science teacher explain how rain falls, but still you’ll hate rain because you can’t control it.
Maybe it’s because of that. We can only predict, but we can’t control. And sometimes (if not most of the times) we predict it wrong. The rain will come as it pleases. We can seed rain, but we can’t stop it. We can’t turn it off like a faucet. Maybe that’s why it pisses us off so much. Rain has the audacity to ignore and disregard somebody as important as us. It’s insulting, us being the center of the universe and all. And we’re literally being spat and pissed on the face by just a water-drenched cloud?! The nerve!
That would be fun though, controlling the rain. Make it rain on one person only, two persons, or three. Or just a whole city. Make it rain inside the building. Literally stir up a storm in a tea cup. That would be nice to see. Especially the part where you can just shower one person, you know, just like in the comic strip, where a raincloud is hovering over someone’s head. It’s fun. You hold the fate of a whole rice field in your hands. You can make a desert become an oasis. You can hold the whole world ransom by not allowing rain. You’re all powerful. You have this all-consuming (hah! I finally used the word; just have to work on “sparking”) desire to taunt and play with the lives of people with your power over rain. You start a new form of terrorism—weather terrorism.
Since this is already too long (I made the word count) and quality takes a lot x 100000000 of effort (I am lazy and undisciplined; this piece is not that good anyway): the end. Think of it as one of those “choose your own ending” thing. If you want a proper ending: Humans are ego-centric control freaks.
As with all things, it depends on the perspective. For people in the city, it’s understandable why rain is well-hated. Rain makes it hard to commute; makes it tough to go anywhere. Rain floods our streets, wets our clothes, ruins our hair, and soaks our socks and shoes. Rain means traffic, slippery roads, less fun outside, cold weather—basically a dismal day.
But I don’t think we hate rain for those reasons. Flooding is our fault—we know zilch about trash management and city planning. Traffic? Rain or shine, it’s a fixture. Cold weather? Get a jacket. Gets you wet? If I’m not mistaken that’s what raincoats and umbrellas are for. I mean we can live with rain. If we can live with the corruption of our government and our apathy towards the state of our nation, rain should be small fry. (It’s funny how we hate the rain more than those who fool around with our “hard-earned” money. It’s a case of misappropriated anger. But anger and hate are emotions, so go figure.)
So when you consider it a little, it’s not really rain that bugs us. What we hate is what rain brings, not rain itself. But is this true? We still say we hate rain. We say: “Expletive! It’s raining again!” So what do we hate about rain? It’s not like we can’t do something about it…
That’s when I went: “Ah! Eureka!” Maybe that’s the case. We hate rain, not for its effects, but because we can’t do anything about it. You know what they say how you can’t stop the rain? Then I go: “Aha! Typical of humans! It’s control! We hate rain because it does not have a remote control!”
Think about it: it seldom rains when you want it. It always rains when you don’t want it to rain. When you have outdoor plans, it rains. When you don’t have an umbrella, it rains. You’re at your best clothes, it rains. When you’re going to some place important, it rains. As Alanis said, it’s your wedding day (a garden wedding), it rains. You had your heart broken, it rains. You just finished hanging the clothes to dry, it rains. You’re a gremlin, it rains. It goes on. Feel free to add your own experience. But the fact is, during those times, you wanted the rain to stop. But it won’t. You can’t. No matter what you do, it won’t stop. Rain is insensitive. It’s unmerciful. It doesn’t care about you or your concerns. Who are you to the rain anyway? The rain would just say: “Shut up. Here, have some more rain.” So, you hate it. You can have your science teacher explain how rain falls, but still you’ll hate rain because you can’t control it.
Maybe it’s because of that. We can only predict, but we can’t control. And sometimes (if not most of the times) we predict it wrong. The rain will come as it pleases. We can seed rain, but we can’t stop it. We can’t turn it off like a faucet. Maybe that’s why it pisses us off so much. Rain has the audacity to ignore and disregard somebody as important as us. It’s insulting, us being the center of the universe and all. And we’re literally being spat and pissed on the face by just a water-drenched cloud?! The nerve!
That would be fun though, controlling the rain. Make it rain on one person only, two persons, or three. Or just a whole city. Make it rain inside the building. Literally stir up a storm in a tea cup. That would be nice to see. Especially the part where you can just shower one person, you know, just like in the comic strip, where a raincloud is hovering over someone’s head. It’s fun. You hold the fate of a whole rice field in your hands. You can make a desert become an oasis. You can hold the whole world ransom by not allowing rain. You’re all powerful. You have this all-consuming (hah! I finally used the word; just have to work on “sparking”) desire to taunt and play with the lives of people with your power over rain. You start a new form of terrorism—weather terrorism.
Since this is already too long (I made the word count) and quality takes a lot x 100000000 of effort (I am lazy and undisciplined; this piece is not that good anyway): the end. Think of it as one of those “choose your own ending” thing. If you want a proper ending: Humans are ego-centric control freaks.
