I’d seen it growing up. Someone caught trying to steal something and in seconds he’s hovering between life and death. It disgusted me, those herds of raving lunatics hypnotized by the the Lord of the Flies mentality, heaping upon one thief all their personal rages and frustrations.
Pathetic. I rescued a thief once. Used to be real proud of too. And then I grew old enough to be a thief magnet. And then society evolved so that thieves stopped just taking stuff and started killing you along with it. Let’s just say I view them as less than unfortunate beings as people who now quiet literally kill their victims over a phone. My former sympathies now reside in the circle of the Andromeda galaxy.
I’m sorry, did you want my property?
I didn’t know just how much a thief can disorganize your entire life. They have disorganized me enough to make me want to hire a hit man for stealing even nail varnish. The pains I have endured due to laptop, phone losses and the worst-national I.D-makes me have pleasant dreams of throttling thieves and not saving them.
Theoretically mob justice is wrong. I get that. I also know that if I manage to catch a thief, I can’t deny that a small part of me won’t go livin’ la vida loca for every thief that’s ever messed my life up.
On a more serious note, mob justice would not have to be an option if we had safe roads, street lights and a non-corrupt justice system.