Among the Thugs. "The very man who came running to oppose the murder of an innocent person is the first to be seized with the homicidal cantagion, and moreover, it does not occur to him to be astonished at this." But what is astonishing is that this is more than Gabriel Tarde's thoughts penned in 1912, but it is a social phenomena that we still hold in many forms--we rubber-neck the car crash, we salivate over the murder case, and we arrest our senses to gain a vantage point to violence. Call it COPS syndrome. I am beginning to feel we are, each one of us, are the Thugs in this book. While it is English football violence--hooliganism--that is dissected (maybe not dissected, but viewed from within by an eager and moribund writer) it looks like any average night at the Valley Fair. It is that close.

OK, so I'm fascinated with the mob as described in this book. The ferocious drunken hooliganism is delicious. Clockwork Orange. So, that is a work of social fiction, but this is more than real.

I feel like I know this mob. The movement of a crowd--like being tugged by an elephant (or pushed by a mule)--and then standing between them while they allow you to keep your feet. No, you struggle against the fear of being trampled and panic to keep your breath steady. Have you heard the gasp and suck? Do you know the place that this rushed intake comes from? It can come from fear, surprise or otherwise. Like that time I missed the mini-van in Orange County.

The frontal lobe violence is real. I can not write of the fear impulse, but the violence. Seen it unleashed in a brutal fist to flesh or boot to bone wave of mayhem. Cracking teeth. Do you know the dull thud of skull on concrete. "It is coming off. . ."

Inter-City Jibbers. Clear control to take the mayhem to others, but in casual "Who Me?" hands in your pockets way.

We may pack a bag to travel. Could we pack social injustice? Would your camera capture it all for posterity sake?

This is good reading.
All. Is.