Newtown Massacre

Last week, America had another chance to indulge a real life soap opera. It was one of those rare afternoons when the most despicable of horrors make an appearance in real life, instead of being confined to the opening scene of a Law & Order episode where they belong.

26 people died on Friday in a matter of minutes.

20 elementary kids were murdered by a violent, gun-wielding lunatic. News channels got ratings Politicians got another platform. The other kind of psychos, whose lives are so void of meaning or feeling, got another jolt. These sickos, who must make up a bulk of both news-making and news-consuming populations, counted the bodies and the bullet holes with a depraved fascination. They waited for the official death count to be released while watching interviews with wailing 6 year olds, traumatized beyond reason and crying for mommy. They wondered how this particular massacre would “rank” in history, like they’re filling out their March Madness bracket.

And the rest of us could only choke back tears and cower in the corner. Another bastion of safety and innocence has been violated by a certain subset of American culture. It is a culture that combines a glorification of violence with easy access to murderous weapons with a failing system of mental health care with the deliberateness of a seasoned chemist but only the wisdom and foresight of an eight year old boy. It is a culture that seems to be growing in strength and influence.

Stop.

I can’t stop thinking about it. Sometimes I have to tell myself to stop thinking about it. It just seems so incomprehensible. The whole story does. Of course, every time something like this happens, and it happens with an alarming frequency in the United States, it seems utterly absurd, beyond imagination. What does it mean that 26 human beings, 20 of them children not only died, but died in such a brutal, unexpected way? Can the loss be expressed to an outsider in any way other than a statistic or some tear-jerking CNN obituary? I keep saying that number over and over in my head and trying to understand its emptiness.

Stop. Sometimes I have to tell myself to stop thinking about it.

Maybe things will change. Pundits are already predicting that this latest massacre of innocents at the hands of a weaponized madman will be something of a turning point in the gun control debate. Petitions are flying around Twitter like Instagrammed pictures of Crème brûlée. Senators are calling for reinstatements of a retired ban on assault weapons. Connecticut’s Joe Lieberman has called for “a national commission on mass violence” to further efforts to prevent future violent tragedies.

How many times have these things been said before? How many Op-Eds in the New York Times and the Washington Post have been written? How many documentaries have been filmed?

No matter how much blood is lost initially, even the deepest wounds are reduced to faint scars over enough time.

For enough of us, time will pave over this trauma. For us, Newtown will become another collection of tear-jerking CNN obituaries about bravery and happiness. It will be thrown onto the pile of events that triggered a nationwide gasp, just another piece of innocent naiveté chipped away from our suit of armor. These people won’t forget, but they might as well. “Newtown – 26 dead – kids involved – 2^nd on the list” will be all that is left in the brains of most Americans within a few weeks. It won’t be that way for everyone, but it will be for enough.

The fury is good, in spite of the many cries against “politicizing the tragedy.” Sex offender registries were created because a tragedy was “politicized.” Same goes for tighter airplane security. Maybe something will come of it. It worked for Australia.

My uncle tweeted this. Consider that, for as much as these events are talk about, the mass murders of Columbine, Aurora and Virginia Tech have just become words. They haven’t been worn out from use, but they’ve been separated from their meaning. Whatever you feel right now (presumably some strain of shock and horror), do not forget it. Do not let go of it. Do not forget it.

Hopefully it motivates you. Hopefully the insufferable horror you feel right now makes you want to do something. It’s that way for me. If it motivates you to campaign for stricter gun regulations, do that. If it motivates you to campaign for easier access to sufficient mental healthcare, do that. If all it does is force you to maintain a discussion about violence, guns and their place in American culture, do that. If you aren’t motivated, if your guts don’t squirm every time you think about 6 year olds crouching under desks while bullets whiz around them or about bloodstained kindergarten classrooms, well…just don’t forget. When we talk about gun control, when we talk about violence, when we talk about Newtown, we shouldn’t talk about statistics or amendments or politics or tear jerking CNN obituaries. We should talk about this feeling. Don’t forget.

Don't Forget