There was a crazy man on the subway during my commute this morning.  He sat across the car by the door and swore uncontrollably, punctuating the end of each string of curses with a tight swipe of his arm, as though he were smacking a child upside the head.  Then he would look around, half indignant and half afraid, and self-consciously stroke his long thin hair back behind his ear with the other hand.  As if suddenly remembering that the imaginary child hadn’t quite learned his lesson, he would then burst out with another barrage of cursing, and strike the air again with his palm.

This went on for at least ten minutes before I reached my stop.  Some people got nervous and went to other cars, and some people laughed at him openly.  Eventually one lady wearing a red security volunteer armband came by from the adjacent car and peered worriedly at the man.  People looked from the man to the lady, wondering if she would do something.  All the while the man kept cursing and making striking motions, and I couldn’t help but think of the guy on the bus in Canada who stabbed, decapitated, and ate a fellow passenger, and I wondered when Beijing’s strengthened police forces would finally show themselves, jump onto the train and subdue the poor bastard.

But the police never came and the lady in the red armband did nothing, and the man was still spitting and raving as I left.  What a disappointment.  If my tax dollars are going to go into all of this extra security for the Olympics, the least I can expect is instant and highly effective beatdowns at the first signs of disorder.

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