If a man has to set his passions on a subject, let it be an inconsequential thing: sports, music, food. The worst thing, if his affections for the subject become too engaged and inflamed, is a barroom brawl, an insult hurled online at a different band’s fan, or food thrown across the restaurant table. Even let his passion be directed toward religion, the outward practice of it, apart from his personal, unspoken sentiments and commitments towards the divine. But for the well-being of everyone waiting to be affected, let his passions not fall into the area of politics, even at a negligible level. A passionate man, funneling his energy an apparatus existing as a pure agent of force, is much more destructive to innocents than anything else. It’s a mallet swinging in all directions as it plows its path. Such involved passions are insatiable and it can only become more deadly the more it’s indulged.