There’s something deeply political about which fears are normalized, regardless of how irrational or statistically unlikely they may be. To tell the truth I really don’t think much about crime. Have I lived an easy life? In some ways, but there are people with lives a lot easier than mine who are afraid to the point of total dysfunction of getting stabbed or mugged. Who then gleefully endorse the excessive isolation, codependence, and gender-based hierarchies that enable the more likely violence committed by people who actually know each other.
I told my bosses at my last job I was taking a weekend trip to Chicago and they said “gosh, be safe,” as if Chicago is nothing more than the Fox News “Chi-raq” depiction and not a multifaceted region with world-class museums, beautiful scenery, and endless joys and new experiences to be had, even (especially) outside the glitsy tourist areas. They are depraving themselves of all this joy and think all the sensory experiences they need can be found at an Olive Garden surrounded by a sea of asphalt.
Meanwhile, to be afraid of getting hit by a car is a problem for whiny libcucks who should just buy a truck instead, to be afraid when politicians and TV personalities explicitly call for your murder as a queer person is a matter of “hurt feelings,” and women are told to fear serial killers who jump out of alleys with zipties and told to get over their anxieties about intimate partner violence. None of it makes any sense.
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