Word: shoot
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Last year, Eric Harris had thrown a chunk of ice at Brooks' car, cracking its windshield. Soon after, the Browns had discovered the spewings on Harris' website, geysers of hate like the one saying Harris longed to "blow up and shoot everything I can. Feel no remorse, no sense of shame...I don't care if I live or die in the shootout, all I want to do is kill and injure as many of you [expletive] as I can, especially a few people. Like Brooks Brown." Harris claimed to have the weaponry to carry out his threat against Brown...
...picture taken for the year-book, Constantine M. Caraminis '99 says he had no idea his head size was an issue. "I think my head has reasonable proportion," he says. "If it's disproportionately large, I never thought about it." His perceptions were warped when, as part of the shoot, he had to don a cap and gown from the photographer's wardrobe. Unfortunately, all of the mortarboards were too small. "The woman just kept making these comments like, 'You must have a lot of brain in there,'" Caraminis recalls...
...strange sort of gift for our morally righteous society that continuously rants about the detrimental effects of violent video games and TV shows. What better way to prove the necessity of censorship than two all-American boys caught up in nihilistic video games and Marilyn Manson that decide to shoot 12 of their classmates and try to blow up their school...
Craig took off his white baseball hat and hid it. When the killers walked by, they saw Isaiah and called him a "nigger." He pleaded with them not to shoot, just let him go home, he wanted his mom, and they pulled the trigger. Then they shot Matt. Craig, covered in his friends' blood, lay very, very still. As he told Katie Couric two mornings later, in an account almost unbearable to watch, Craig began praying for courage. "God told me to get out of there," he said. So he got up and started to run, yelling to others...
...live on a farm and own four long guns. I learned to shoot when I was 10 years old, under the tutelage of the N.R.A. It was not a flawless education: when I was 13, I nearly blew a friend's head off, by accident, with his father's .38 revolver. (I was lucky enough to be permitted to learn a lesson the hard way; my friend was plain lucky.) I find that I sympathize with both the gun culture and the anti-gun culture. I do wish the gun culture were a lot more intelligent...