Street fights
Here is a text I first encountered, and memorized in both English and French, more than half-a-century ago when I was learning French in Paris. It is by Charles Baudelaire, and in his Salon of 1846, that he says this for all of us:
“If ever your idler’s curiosity has landed you in a street brawl, perhaps you will have felt the same delight as I have often felt to see a protector of the public slumbers — a policeman or a municipal guard (the real army) — thumping an incendiary. And if so, like me, you will have said in your heart: ‘Thump on, thump a little harder, thump again, beloved constable! for at this supreme thumping, I adore thee and judge thee the equal of Jupiter, the great dealer of justice! The man whom thou thumpest is an enemy of roses and of perfumes, and a maniac for utensils. He is the enemy of Watteau, the enemy of Raphael, the bitter enemy of luxury, of the fine arts and of literature, a sworn iconoclast and butcher of Venus and Apollo!’ …”
(I now cite Jonathan Mayne’s touching translation.)
Of course, this rule does not apply internationally. In Islamic societies, such as Shi-ite Iran, the role of constable and street brawler is generally reversed, and thus one is rooting for the incendiary.
I suppose that means I am guilty of relativism.