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Will we even pretend to do anything to prevent the next mass shooting by a crazed loner? I doubt it. We'll just add Aurora to the growing list -- Columbine, Virginia Tech, Tucson -- and wait for the inevitable.
Will we even pretend to do anything to prevent the next mass shooting by a crazed loner? I doubt it. We'll just add Aurora to the growing list -- Columbine, Virginia Tech, Tucson -- and wait for the inevitable.

When that next atrocity comes, we'll tell each other we're shocked and stunned, knowing full well we should be neither. We'll probe the assailant's life in search of a motive, knowing full well we won't find one that makes any sense. We'll comfort the survivors and the victims' families and assure them their suffering will not be in vain.
Meanwhile, somewhere out there, another disturbed young man will be purchasing an assault rifle and making unspeakable plans.
I can only conclude that we, as a society, have decided this state of affairs is acceptable, that the occasional murderous rampage is the price we pay for . . . for what? For freedom? For the Second Amendment? For campaign contributions from the National Rifle Association?
Forgive me if I sound cynical. I'm afraid I am. Five years ago, I arrived on the Virginia Tech campus in Blacksburg, just hours after student Seung Hui Cho's murderous rampage left 33 dead, including himself. I will never forget what it felt like -- the stunned disbelief, the white-hot anger, the unbearable sadness of so many young lives being extinguished for no reason, no higher purpose. No purpose at all.
I was there as a journalist, so I interviewed witnesses and survivors, took notes, wrote columns. But I was hardly an objective observer because I'm a father who has sent two sons off to college.
And to the movies.
At Sunday night's prayer vigil in Aurora, Colo., speakers took pains not to mention the name of the assailant who shot dead 12 people at the premiere of the new Batman film. President Obama, too, deliberately failed to mention the killer's name in his remarks. It was appropriate to keep the focus on the victims rather than the monster.
But James Eagan Holmes does have a name -- and an all-too-familiar story. An intense young man becomes unmoored, obsessed, unhinged, somehow divorced from reality. Those who notice the change have no authority to do anything. He assembles a high-powered arsenal obviously meant not for sport but for killing.
Almost before the last shell casing clatters to the ground, the fruitless debate begins: Do we focus on the man or the gun?
Clearly, there are two issues involved in these mass killings. The more difficult one has to do with mental health.
We know that young adulthood is a volatile time for men in general. We know that symptoms of a number of serious mental disorders, such as paranoid schizophrenia, typically appear between the teens and the mid-30s. We know that the mobility that characterizes modern life can foster a sense of rootlessness, perhaps a sense of alienation.
We also know that parents and other loved ones are often powerless to intervene -- if, indeed, they even become aware of a potential problem. There is no simple way to identify the handful of individuals who are quietly spinning out of control, unseen behind closed doors. We should make society more caring; we should be more connected with one another. But this does not constitute a legislative agenda.
The simple issue is access to weapons and explosives. Among the three guns that Holmes allegedly brought into the movie theater was a Smith & Wesson assault rifle with an oversize, 100-round magazine. This weapon jammed, according to police, leaving Holmes with a shotgun and a pistol. Had the assault rifle worked properly, the toll surely would have been much higher.
An unstable person can walk into a gun shop and buy a weapon designed for deadly combat. No meaningful questions asked. Have a nice day, Mr. Joker.
This is crazy. Minimal gun control -- such as prohibiting assault weapons -- wouldn't eliminate these massacres, but it would prevent some and mitigate others. Lives would be saved. Congress should pass an assault weapons ban this morning and the president should sign it tonight.
Right. Dream on. Instead, we'll argue endlessly about whether we should focus on the man or the gun, and the effect will be to focus on neither. The next James Holmes is out there, so is his instrument of murder, and we will do nothing to keep them apart.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
Will we even pretend to do anything to prevent the next mass shooting by a crazed loner? I doubt it. We'll just add Aurora to the growing list -- Columbine, Virginia Tech, Tucson -- and wait for the inevitable.

When that next atrocity comes, we'll tell each other we're shocked and stunned, knowing full well we should be neither. We'll probe the assailant's life in search of a motive, knowing full well we won't find one that makes any sense. We'll comfort the survivors and the victims' families and assure them their suffering will not be in vain.
Meanwhile, somewhere out there, another disturbed young man will be purchasing an assault rifle and making unspeakable plans.
I can only conclude that we, as a society, have decided this state of affairs is acceptable, that the occasional murderous rampage is the price we pay for . . . for what? For freedom? For the Second Amendment? For campaign contributions from the National Rifle Association?
Forgive me if I sound cynical. I'm afraid I am. Five years ago, I arrived on the Virginia Tech campus in Blacksburg, just hours after student Seung Hui Cho's murderous rampage left 33 dead, including himself. I will never forget what it felt like -- the stunned disbelief, the white-hot anger, the unbearable sadness of so many young lives being extinguished for no reason, no higher purpose. No purpose at all.
I was there as a journalist, so I interviewed witnesses and survivors, took notes, wrote columns. But I was hardly an objective observer because I'm a father who has sent two sons off to college.
And to the movies.
At Sunday night's prayer vigil in Aurora, Colo., speakers took pains not to mention the name of the assailant who shot dead 12 people at the premiere of the new Batman film. President Obama, too, deliberately failed to mention the killer's name in his remarks. It was appropriate to keep the focus on the victims rather than the monster.
But James Eagan Holmes does have a name -- and an all-too-familiar story. An intense young man becomes unmoored, obsessed, unhinged, somehow divorced from reality. Those who notice the change have no authority to do anything. He assembles a high-powered arsenal obviously meant not for sport but for killing.
Almost before the last shell casing clatters to the ground, the fruitless debate begins: Do we focus on the man or the gun?
Clearly, there are two issues involved in these mass killings. The more difficult one has to do with mental health.
We know that young adulthood is a volatile time for men in general. We know that symptoms of a number of serious mental disorders, such as paranoid schizophrenia, typically appear between the teens and the mid-30s. We know that the mobility that characterizes modern life can foster a sense of rootlessness, perhaps a sense of alienation.
We also know that parents and other loved ones are often powerless to intervene -- if, indeed, they even become aware of a potential problem. There is no simple way to identify the handful of individuals who are quietly spinning out of control, unseen behind closed doors. We should make society more caring; we should be more connected with one another. But this does not constitute a legislative agenda.
The simple issue is access to weapons and explosives. Among the three guns that Holmes allegedly brought into the movie theater was a Smith & Wesson assault rifle with an oversize, 100-round magazine. This weapon jammed, according to police, leaving Holmes with a shotgun and a pistol. Had the assault rifle worked properly, the toll surely would have been much higher.
An unstable person can walk into a gun shop and buy a weapon designed for deadly combat. No meaningful questions asked. Have a nice day, Mr. Joker.
This is crazy. Minimal gun control -- such as prohibiting assault weapons -- wouldn't eliminate these massacres, but it would prevent some and mitigate others. Lives would be saved. Congress should pass an assault weapons ban this morning and the president should sign it tonight.
Right. Dream on. Instead, we'll argue endlessly about whether we should focus on the man or the gun, and the effect will be to focus on neither. The next James Holmes is out there, so is his instrument of murder, and we will do nothing to keep them apart.
Will we even pretend to do anything to prevent the next mass shooting by a crazed loner? I doubt it. We'll just add Aurora to the growing list -- Columbine, Virginia Tech, Tucson -- and wait for the inevitable.

When that next atrocity comes, we'll tell each other we're shocked and stunned, knowing full well we should be neither. We'll probe the assailant's life in search of a motive, knowing full well we won't find one that makes any sense. We'll comfort the survivors and the victims' families and assure them their suffering will not be in vain.
Meanwhile, somewhere out there, another disturbed young man will be purchasing an assault rifle and making unspeakable plans.
I can only conclude that we, as a society, have decided this state of affairs is acceptable, that the occasional murderous rampage is the price we pay for . . . for what? For freedom? For the Second Amendment? For campaign contributions from the National Rifle Association?
Forgive me if I sound cynical. I'm afraid I am. Five years ago, I arrived on the Virginia Tech campus in Blacksburg, just hours after student Seung Hui Cho's murderous rampage left 33 dead, including himself. I will never forget what it felt like -- the stunned disbelief, the white-hot anger, the unbearable sadness of so many young lives being extinguished for no reason, no higher purpose. No purpose at all.
I was there as a journalist, so I interviewed witnesses and survivors, took notes, wrote columns. But I was hardly an objective observer because I'm a father who has sent two sons off to college.
And to the movies.
At Sunday night's prayer vigil in Aurora, Colo., speakers took pains not to mention the name of the assailant who shot dead 12 people at the premiere of the new Batman film. President Obama, too, deliberately failed to mention the killer's name in his remarks. It was appropriate to keep the focus on the victims rather than the monster.
But James Eagan Holmes does have a name -- and an all-too-familiar story. An intense young man becomes unmoored, obsessed, unhinged, somehow divorced from reality. Those who notice the change have no authority to do anything. He assembles a high-powered arsenal obviously meant not for sport but for killing.
Almost before the last shell casing clatters to the ground, the fruitless debate begins: Do we focus on the man or the gun?
Clearly, there are two issues involved in these mass killings. The more difficult one has to do with mental health.
We know that young adulthood is a volatile time for men in general. We know that symptoms of a number of serious mental disorders, such as paranoid schizophrenia, typically appear between the teens and the mid-30s. We know that the mobility that characterizes modern life can foster a sense of rootlessness, perhaps a sense of alienation.
We also know that parents and other loved ones are often powerless to intervene -- if, indeed, they even become aware of a potential problem. There is no simple way to identify the handful of individuals who are quietly spinning out of control, unseen behind closed doors. We should make society more caring; we should be more connected with one another. But this does not constitute a legislative agenda.
The simple issue is access to weapons and explosives. Among the three guns that Holmes allegedly brought into the movie theater was a Smith & Wesson assault rifle with an oversize, 100-round magazine. This weapon jammed, according to police, leaving Holmes with a shotgun and a pistol. Had the assault rifle worked properly, the toll surely would have been much higher.
An unstable person can walk into a gun shop and buy a weapon designed for deadly combat. No meaningful questions asked. Have a nice day, Mr. Joker.
This is crazy. Minimal gun control -- such as prohibiting assault weapons -- wouldn't eliminate these massacres, but it would prevent some and mitigate others. Lives would be saved. Congress should pass an assault weapons ban this morning and the president should sign it tonight.
Right. Dream on. Instead, we'll argue endlessly about whether we should focus on the man or the gun, and the effect will be to focus on neither. The next James Holmes is out there, so is his instrument of murder, and we will do nothing to keep them apart.