I had a whole humor piece written up about how marginalized poor Jay Courtney is in this picture. Twenty-six victims (and counting) later and that sort of minutia is now slamming into an emotional brick wall of anger and mourning. Maybe it’s in bad taste to now run this image in light of the day’s events. But it illustrates a feeling that’s been growing inside me since before even The Dark Knight Rises massacre. At this point guns only have one reasonable home on this Earth.

In our fiction.