Today I got up early and got through my work quickly, then went to the mall with my husband and #2 son. We heard some interesting things about economic theory and his roommates over lunch, then did some fairly efficient Christmas shopping. Most of the presents are now bought and wrapped and under the tree.

While we were at the mall I got a note saying, “You might want to cancel the auto-tweets because of the shooting.”

There followed a flurry of phone calls as I tried to find out what shooting, find someone who could reach the team to cancel the auto tweets, and otherwise make sense of what was going on.

It isn’t really possible to make sense of what was going on. It doesn’t make sense. We jumped in and did damage control for clients, and that’s really all we could do.

When I got back to my computer, I found the news, plus people in my Facebook stream saying everything from “May God forgive us for not insisting on effective gun control laws.” to “Is it time to start arming teachers to kill these sons of bitches.” My favorite:

This will be our reply to violence: to make music more intensely,
more beautifully, more devotedly than ever before.”
― Leonard Bernstein

The sad truth is that people, including children, die every day. Our being upset over some specific event is human, but worthless.

The guys made dinner while I finished up work, and we watched The Snowman. This was a picture book by Raymond Briggs. #1 son, fresh from lit classes, analyzed it in a mock-serious voice, pointing out the deep and unpleasant significance of everything.

It’s beautiful music, and I really like it, but the boys remembered finding it creepy as children.

Howard Blake wrote the music, and the song has been recorded by an absolutely bizarre collection of people, from Placido Domingo to Foxy Shazam, as well as myriad choirboys.