What. The. Fuck. Is. Wrong. With. People.
A few years ago in my hometown, a guy ran his car into a little girl, killing her. I assume it was an accident. Some people nearby rushed over immediately. So they could beat up the driver.
One of my coworkers, while riding his bike to work, was struck by a car making an illegal turn. While he lay on the ground, stunned and bleeding, other bicyclists—obviously concerned—interrupted their own commute. So they could yell at the driver. It took a while for anyone to actually help my coworker.
This week in Austin, Texas, at a celebration commemorating the end of slavery, according the Associate Press, “A crowd attacked and killed a passenger in a vehicle that had struck and injured a child.” The murdered passenger became involved when he tried to stop the mob from killing the driver. The struck child’s injuries, it should probably be mentioned, were not life-threatening.
I actually can’t comment anymore on this without becoming infuriated. So I won’t—other than to point out the irony: in cases like these, it appears the person most concerned with the well-being of the victim is the one who actually injured them in the first place. Everyone else seems preoccupied with exacting revenge for an act which—however careless and stupid—was clearly unintended.