This morning, while driving in a half-awake daze to a job I fabulously dislike, I encountered two traffic jams. Each of them was caused by rubberneckers. Accidents, some bent fenders and bumpers, there might even have been injuries. Happens all the time.
The cumulative effect of one driver tapping the brakes to view the carnage (whether it exists or not) has what must be a scientifically measurable ripple effect on drivers as many as three miles behind the first fuckhead who had to slow down and take a look.
Aside from the fact that I’m disgusted and disillusioned by our fascination with other people’s misery, I don’t understand why it’s necessary for so many presumably reasonable people to slow down and check things out. Rubberneckers aren’t interested primarily in helping, they just want to see something gross, the beauty of twisted metal, perhaps a splash of blood on the pavement.
These people should be killed.
