This past weekend has been so unspeakably dreadful, I find myself once again turning to the Bard for comprehension and solace.

There is no other way to frame it: the world has just experienced two days of unimaginable horror — the mass shooting at Brown University in Providence, Rhode Island; the even more deadly attack on a Jewish holiday gathering at Bondi Beach in New South Wales, Australia; and the murder of actor-director Rob Reiner and his wife Michele at their home in Los Angeles, California.

Three unrelated incidents, with one thing in common: they were all hate crimes.

Whether or not the perpetrators were mentally unbalanced is not the principal issue. Whatever their state of mind, they were each compelled by an uncontrolled rage to take the lives of other human beings — in two cases, total strangers.

The world has become saturated with the kind of hatred that causes people to strike out at each other, whether verbally, physically, or with deadly weapons. It seems impossible to speak without upsetting someone; and too often, that upset quickly turns to fury.

(Case in point: the despicable verbal reaction from the White House to the brutal death of Rob Reiner.)

As we deal with the grief and horror of the events we have just witnessed, we also struggle to understand what is driving this widespread contagion of anger and hatred. And perhaps Shakespeare had the answer when he wrote:

“In time we hate that which we often fear.”

– William Shakespeare, “Antony and Cleopatra,”
Act I, Scene 3

The obvious next question is: How do we — each in our own way — identify and control the fear? I wonder whether Shakespeare had the answer to that one.

Just sayin’ . . .

Brendochka
12/16/25