|
I feel compelled to write a personal anecdote here. Some years ago (pre-mobile-phone) I was walking late at night in the city with
a friend, and saw someone getting bashed by a gang of people. Knowing the police station was literally around the corner, I ran into the
police station and told them about it. This was a waste of time. The officer on
duty gave me a look somewhere between boredom and irritation. I left and went back to where the bashing was happening, just in time to see
the gang give a few final kicks to their now unconscious victim and run off. Knowing the police were going to come (eventually), and not wanting to take
any risk myself, I just walked off in the other direction with my friend,
seeing the police arrive in a car as I left. I have always regretted not staying around to watch it. It would have made no
difference to the victim (the police were useless), and perhaps I would have
learned something about the motivation of people who would want to bash someone
unconscious. Years ago I would turn away when I saw a fight or a bashing. Now I watch it
when it's there (though I avoid places where it is likely to occur). I'm not
talking about the moronic choreographed violence churned out by Hollywood for
the masses (though that can provide insights too). I'm talking about the real
thing. Real violence. The genuine need that some humans have to hurt others,
just for the sake of hurting them. I gives me no pleasure beyond insight and
understanding, the possibility of being able to avoid become a victim of it
myself. The first step to solving a problem is to understand it.
|