Have you ever noticed the astonishingly sense of certainty of the righteous rogue? They know what's right, and usually whatever you're doing or believing isn't it. Or on any list they carry. Being such righteous folk, they always have a list of rights and wrongs.
The other thing I've rarely failed to notice is how these folk apply their list to you, but not themselves. Or their supporters. So while they fib their way through some elocution, you're left wondering if words have any meaning or did the rules about them change as well?
Fanatics are, of course, the worst. They surpass the righteous, condemning them to a life in purgatory because they're not as expert in whatever supposed sin they're collectively expert in condemning. For the fanatic, the reasonable is unreasonable; the compromise an abject surrender and the enemy anyone except their friends. Who are to be trusted only as long as unconditional support is provided.
These people need their hate, I suppose. They can't survive without it. They perceive the world through their cracked rose-tinted spectacles and notice not one flaw, but as many as there are cracks and then some. I often think they lack the ability to see the world, preferring instead to see their own reflection. A sad reflection. A destitute reflection. To them the world is not full of opportunity or wonder. It's a place of desperate misery and failed dreams. They don't pick themselves up and say "okay, that didn't work, let's see what's next", they get angry at the world because they failed, because the world blithely ignores their most pressing issue. As people go about their own lives, with their own hells to deal with. These people are angry the world didn't even notice them and their hell. Because their hell is surely the worst hell. Well it is. They created it.
Have you ever noticed that?