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Arrogance Equals Death
It’s 3:15 in the morning. You’re awoken to a woman screaming, “Oh, my God, he stabbed me! Please help me!” You would help, wouldn’t you? Wouldn’t you call the police? Well, yeah, you would. But you didn’t. Neither did thirty seven other people who saw this go down.
It was the year 1964, Queens, New York. Murder was a common thing. Crime rates were up, and hippies were taking over the nation. While people sat in their homes, Catherine “Kitty” Genovese was luridly murdered just outside. And they knew it, and they heard it. No one called the police until she died. Doesn’t that seem strange? That people would be so lax to an event like this? Because people made the rash decision to not do anything, Kitty died in front of a stairway.
Why is this? It seems like it should be our job as citizens to protect the wellbeing of our neighbors. People feel like they are safe and invulnerable inside of their domiciles, and it is out of their comfort zone to help a young girl being murdered.
Imagine you are walking back to your apartment and a man stabs you. As you cry out and look up to the lit windows above you, all you can hope for is that someone is going to at least try and save you. But they won’t. That is too inconvenient for them. You are going to die, and no one will care until after they realize it’s their fault.
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