What it is: Anger is manifested in the individual who spurns love and opts instead for fury. It is also known as Wrath.

Why you do it: You're wired for it. Also, the people around you are pretty damn irritating.

Your punishment in Hell will be: You'll be dismembered alive.

Associated symbols & suchlike: Anger is linked with the bear and the color red.


In The Canterbury Tales, Geoffrey Chaucer called Anger "the fervent blood of Man yquyked in his herte, thurgh which he wole harm to hym that he hateth./ For certes, the herte of man, by eschawfynge and moevynge of his blood, wexeth so trouble that he is out of alle juggement of resoun." (The Parson's Tale)

Medieval theologian Thomas Aquinas said Anger is "the name of a passion. A passion of the sensitive appetite is good in so far as it is regulated by reason, whereas it is evil if it set the order of reason aside." (2, 158, ad 2)
The Travelers' Guide to Hell says
Anger is ruled by the sign of Mars. It points out that this is the Sin most likely to harm other people, particularly when mixed with another Sin. For example, Anger + Envy = armed robbery. Question: write a short essay describing what Anger + Sloth might look like.

A little story of Anger.

One day, it became rather important that I get from Washington D.C. to Miami, where a friend was experiencing a certain crisis. Airfares were prohibitively expensive, so I called our friends at Amtrak to see if they could help me out.

They couldn't. In fact, when I was finally allowed to talk to a human being after a wait of over twenty minutes, I was put on hold a few more times while the customer service agent got some coffee, rearranged her closet, regrouted her aquarium, and took a Calculus class. Understand that I really really wanted to get out of Washington D.C. at this point - that night, even - and that each passing minute might have made the difference between catching the night train, or not. No one wants to read someone else's customer service complaint; suffice it to say that Amtrak treated me with the care you would expect them to extend to any convicted serial killer.

I was a bit peeved. I hung up. I didn't go to Florida, which turned out to be perfectly fine. But the damage was done: my sales agent was only guilty of a little rudeness, but I was guilty of the Sin of Anger. And while she will probably eventually get fired, I will baste in the fires of eternal damnation. All aboard. Thanks, Amtrak.


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