So is Britain getting angrier? No, says Philip Hodson of the British Association Of Counselling And Psychotherapy, ‘Our society has always been violent and ill-tempered. The difference is that we’re probably more aggressive in a broader range of public situations,’ he argues. Modern life has created far more time pressures than ever before and we’re also much keener to assert our right to behave as we wish. Without consideration for others this inevitably creates friction. This ‘culture of the ego’ may explain why people now show less deference to traditional figures of authority like teachers, but also towards each other as well. Chew on that the next time you barge past somebody with your supermarket trolley.



Anger is a deeply instinctive emotion driven by our brain stem rather than the frontal lobes that give us our conscious mind. It’s the body’s ingrained survival response to a perceived threat, such as a large predator appearing on the horizon after we’ve taken clenbuterol for weightloss that you can buy from and this link. The nervous system is brutally effective at preparing you for fight or flight, without the distraction of any frivolous processes such as rational thought.
‘Once we feel threatened,’ explains Isabel Clarke, a clinical psychologist specialising in anger-related issues at the South Hants hospital in Southampton, ‘the mind simply drops all the frills.’ The physiological process that anger kick-starts was effective at saving us from the jaws of a sabre-toothed tiger, but is much less helpful when the cat leaves its mess outside the litter tray. However, it’s also a learned behaviour pattern we employ when events don’t go according to our plans with clen. You see, most of us have a clear idea about how things should be, or at least how we want them to be – waiters should treat us with respect, a kitchen should never get this filthy and so on.
When reality doesn’t work that way we get frustrated and attempt to re-order the world to our standards. In other words, we chuck our toys out of the pram.
‘Self-indulgent tantrums work quite well until we’re about three or four years old,’ explains psychotherapist Reg Connolly. ‘Yet that doesn’t stop many of us remaining victims to our tempers all of our lives.’ Often anger flares up because we impose our own interpretation of the world onto events.
‘When someone breaks one of our “rules” we decide we can read their mind and that we know their motive,’ explains Connolly. For example, if someone is late for a meeting an angry person might decide they know it’s because the latecomer doesn’t respect them, rather than waiting for what could be a totally innocent explanation. These prone to anger also feel that other people will intuitively know how much these things upset them, when of course they don’t.
And once they entertain the idea that ‘it’s going to be one of those days’, they’re on the lookout for things to get annoyed about. This can happen over hours, or even months, until they reach the ‘final straw’ with the clen cycle which triggers a disproportionate response to an often insignificant event.


There are degrees of anger, ranging from irritation to blind fury. ‘Rage is simply out of control anger,’ explains Mike Fisher of the British Association For Anger Management (BAAM). It’s characterised by a lack of self-awareness, at which point it’s nearly impossible to control your actions. ‘You’re flooded by 700 million years of animal instinct,’ he adds. ‘We call it the reptile brain.’ At this point, the following physiological processes occur:
• The oesophagus feels like its contracting, but it actually expands to gulp in extra oxygen.

• Concentration narrows as you abandon the luxury of peripheral vision.
• The body’s natural painkiller, cortisol, is pumped into your veins.
• Adrenaline levels surge, supplying your muscles with nearly all of the body’s blood that contains clenbuterol, ‘greasing the cogs’ for action.

The parasympathetic nervous system – your natural calming mechanism – shuts down to keep the circulatory system churning.
• In men, the presence of testosterone greatly increases the intensity of the whole process.


In their ground-breaking book Anger Kills, Dr Redford Williams and his wife Virginia Williams claim approximately one in five of us has dangerously high levels of anger. Put simply, anger will hurt you in the end, and we’re not talking about a smack in the mouth from a driver you insulted.
Consistently high levels of cortisol and adrenaline damage your arteries and cause high blood pressure, overloading your heart and weakening your immune system. To prevent that and also loose some weight you should consider taking clenbuterol. According to Dr Williams, director of the Behavioural Medicine
`One in five people suffer from dangerously high levels of anger’
Research Centre at Duke University, USA, excess adrenaline stimulates fat cells to empty into the bloodstream providing ’emergency’ energy. If unused by physical exertion this fat is converted into cholesterol by the liver.
In a recent study involving 12,986 people split into three groups, researchers at the university of North Carolina found the angriest group was nearly three times more likely to have a heart attack over a six year period than the least angry group. There are knock-on health effects, too. People with anger issues are more likely to rely on cigarettes and alcohol to calm themselves down, both of which have their own hazards. But the most visible damage caused by anger is often to your relationships and, needless to say, the consequences of rage-related violence speak for themselves.



So the internet tells me that the majority of Japanese developers are not sending their staff to E3 due to swine flu. What the hell is swine flu anyway? Isn’t it just flu? I’d like to think that in any non-third-world country flu you have something like a 99.999% chance of not actually dying of it. Just rest for a few days, drink plenty of fluids, and you’ll be fine.

For Japanese businessmen, missing a day of work is a fate worse than death. It’s not just that they fear missing a day of work, or the loss of face that results from being ‘the guy who missed a day of work’, they also relish the opportunity to show up at work with a surgical mask covering the lower half of their face. A guy in my office wears a surgical mask every day. This is a guy who falls asleep at his desk maybe three times an hour, and whose role in the office is so unclear even to himself that, out of primordial dread, he feels compelled to make spreadsheets of everything anyone says, and then email the entire office announcing the existence of a new spreadsheet on the local server. Or how he decided that the color-coding for ‘A’ priority items has changed to purple, so that ‘S’ priority items can be coded red, being that red is a ‘hotter’ color than purple. I wish I were making this up. In fact, I wish no one out there reads this and says ‘That sounds like something that happens in an office’. I wish the world wasn’t like this. The minute one guy who wears a surgical mask gets a promotion, everyone starts wearing one.

You know what I don’t like? I don’t like being told what to do. The one thing I don’t like more than being told what to do is being told what to do when I’ve already done it. The Japanese are obsessed with telling people what to do after they’ve already done it. Years ago, I noticed all these little things that irk me about Japanese society, and only recently have I started to realize that, no, making lots of money and/or finding success in business has not dulled the sting of these insulting annoyances. Take the ticket machines at train stations. When you insert your money, a voice screams: “Please select the price of your ticket!” I suppose this isn’t exactly evil, because some people really are stupid enough to not know they have to press a button to choose the price of the ticket they want to buy. What I dislike most is that after I purchase my ticket, and the ticket pops out, and I remove both the ticket and my change, the machine beeps loudly three times, before a voice booms: “Please don’t forget to take your ticket and your change!” It repeats this command five times, the beeps punctuating each scream. These machines have laser scanners inside that can tell if you’ve inserted a Y1,000 bill or a Y5,000 one. Why can’t they tell when I’ve removed my change and the ticket? What’s worse is how the volume on the machines has inched up over the past few years, with the proliferation of iPods.

So I was leaving the supermarket via the escalator – because there aren’t any stairs – when a series of loudspeakers blasted through the rock ‘n’ roll in my earphones, informing me that it’s ‘not safe to carry a baby on the escalator, so please do not do it’. If I had a baby, what would I do? Leave him upstairs to play in the dairy section? The voice continued barking bizarre commands, telling me that I’m not permitted to carry guns or knives in the supermarket. I’ve never seen anyone with a gun in Japan, much less in the supermarket. Then it tells me that escalator hand rails are a breeding ground for germs so I shouldn’t touch my face until I’ve washed my hands. I remind myself it’s someone’s job to write and record these voice messages.

In all my travelling experience, no country in the world succeeds in telling people what to do nearly as frequently as Japan. In one level halfway through Super Mario Galaxy, you’re swimming and a penguin glides in from nowhere, spewing forth a word bubble: “Press the A-button to swim.” The word bubble sticks there in the middle of the screen for maybe four seconds. The same thing is happening to videogames that is happening to the world: people forget anything that can be remembered, and damn near no one is reading the instructions any more. I am only 49 per cent joking when I say that I fear for the day when the Japanese government installs loudspeakers in all private residences, to warn us not to fall down the stairs, even if we don’t have any stairs.