A major catastrophe has a way of making the impact of a few lost individuals of little worth. The mass rush to assist those who are genuinely in need far surpasses the confused wandering of a small mob looking to do some damage. Their point seems pointless, as it is. Whether with boats to Texas or bales of hay to Nebraska, people rise to the occasion of construction rather than destruction. Just like those of an aging generation whose lungs now bear the burden of smoking strange stuff, those who cover their faces and incite violence will one day use walkers to get to the bathroom. There’s nothing like some reality to keep perspective.
The thugs are not us. They are them. They put themselves on the other side of decency and respect for others, and thus put themselves on the outside looking in at good things. Hopefully they will see and experience enough good things to learn what they could do if they let go of their self-importance long enough. They claim to care about a cause of some sort, but ruin the claim by creating chaos and rubble. They promote what they claim to hate.
Once their professional agitation jobs are done, they will still be lost and in need of help themselves. Then, maybe someone with a boat will pluck them out of the angry flood that has consumed them. Maybe they will come to their senses and help.