Today I have nothing funny to say. It has been a month of emotional torture to witness these crimes from the increasingly uneasy position of distant safety and to weep with incredibly painful realization of what real suffering lies there among the dead to follow the survivors until the end of their days. Ever since Aurora, we look at the exits in theaters pensively before the show and evaluate each fellow ticket holder with that same eye of suspicion. Anxiety looks at our neighbor and turns to us asking, “Is this person what they appear to be? Are we safe here?” It is a creeping and uncomfortable dread that keeps us up at night more and more. We are haunted.