The killer who had been a mystery to us for two days was there on my TV. I was suddenly fascinated with this glimpse into his decayed mind ... and simultaneously discomfited by it. Criminy, I'm a lifelong newspaperman and I believe ardently that the more information we have, the better we can decide for ourselves what needs our attention.
But here this sick little freak was, on my TV, telling me how it was -- by extension -- my fault that he had to slaughter 32 people, most of whom he didn't know. Here was the ghost of a cowardly loser lecturing me, us, about civility. Here he was, playing out his Mortal Kombat fantasies as if he knew (and we didn't) what Hell was like. I couldn't look away, and didn't want to ... but what I felt was the morbid marriage of voyeurism and disgust.
My son is a college student. I ache for him. Not just the fearsome world he lives in right at this moment, but for the world in which he'll raise his own children. Cho -- or miscreants like him -- has been around since The Beginning and he'll be around in The End. We cannot identify them and remove them to a safe place. Like other terrorists, we have to be lucky every time, and they only have to be lucky once.
I pray Cho knows what real Hell is like right now. I don't need to see the videos anymore.