A while ago, it was announced that there had been another mass shooting that seemed vaguely political in nature, but none of the reporters could figure out what the shooter’s ideology was. This was increasingly annoying to me throughout the day because I needed to know where to slot this in my brain: if the killer was on “my side” then I had to prepare my explanations for why this was one bad apple, and if the killer was on “the other side”, then I couldn’t wait to launch into attack-mode, tarring the other side with this guy’s brush. Finally, they announced that the guy had no ideology, but he was just home from fighting in Afghanistan. I felt a great weight leave me, and I announced to Betsy, “I’m not surprised, the incidents of PTSD for those guys are a lot higher than anybody’s reporting.”