In a materialistic society one of the most taboo acts is to engage in vigilante activity. What was once the duty of people in moralistic societies is now a crime of social heresy. Not “taking the law in our own hands” is one of the cornerstones of modern and now postmodern civic life. Even using fore to defend oneself in states like Maryland, is a crime in most cases. Ironically, action movies focus largely on this natural human social yearning for rough justice, with heroes of cinema more likely than not to seek justice through violent action outside of the hierarchy.

Note that, since a hierarchy is a matrix of social aggression in being, that any usurpation of the coercive rights of the State to use force, is a heretical act, even if functionaries of the hierarchy are not attacked, or even openly defied. In this case, Raphael actually believed that he was committing a lawful act. When you attack a person, and are tried in a criminal court of law, you are not being tried for a crime against that person, but against the State. Trials for your crimes against another person are taken care of in civil court.

#38-08: day, minutes, first-person aggressor

Raphael had just left out-patient knee surgery at a Chicago hospital with the aid of a cane. He was dressed in his Tae-Kwon-Do uniform, and would be picking his wife up from the airport after class.

“This sorry looking redneck type of whiteboy cut me off at an intersection. I noticed he was drinking a can of beer so I followed him. Drunk driving is unacceptable. I followed him for miles. He pulled into a strip mall and entered a Korean liquor store. I pulled up on the other side of a van. By the time I limped into position he was exiting the liquor store with a six pack under his arm, drinking a beer [sneer of disgust].

“He opened the door, places his can of beer in the can holder, puts the six-pack on the passenger seat, and got in. By the time I got to him he was seated behind the wheel pulling the car door closed. I used the cane to balance myself as I yanked open the car door and reverse punched him in the face.

“I shoved him back and crawled in on top of him. He was twisted, with his feet under the driver’s wheel and his head on the six-pack on the passenger seat. I had the mount and was choking him with my left while I was palm-striking his chest and hitting him in the face with vertical fists.

“I could hear the sound of his head hitting the six-pack, and I was really upset, screaming at him while I held up my black belt, ‘I could kill you! Do you understand! Don’t drink and drive!’

“The owners of the store were looking on. So I turned to them, and said—in Korean—‘call the police. I have a drunk driver.’ They were upset and confused and continued to watch, chattering to each other—mamasan and pappasan. He was crying and begging, ‘Don’t kill me. Please don’t kill me!’

“I spit in his face and continued to punch him. It was crazy. [You think?] The blood was splashing up my sleeves and onto the dashboard and window. I guess I was a little out of control. You know, you get fed up with these dipsy-do people and all their Mickey Mouse issues. I really don’t know how long the entire episode lasted. He started to cry and wiggle—making, ‘wee-wee-wee’ noises and fluttering his fingers. When he stopped moving I crawled out of the car, took his can of beer, crawled back inside, and dumped it on his face, ‘Drink!’ I opened more of his beer and dumped it on him. Then I retrieved my cane and left him there.

“I made it to class on time. My white uniform was covered in blood. I taught a good class—very intense. The students were very dedicated that day. After class I picked up my wife from the airport. The day was rushed and I had no change of clothes with me. She was very upset over my appearance.”