So, picture this: It’s December 14, 2012, a Friday, and everyone’s gearing up for holiday break. But in Newtown, Connecticut, a nightmare unfolds that no one could have imagined—except, apparently, the NRA’s legal team because, spoiler alert, they were already working on excuses. A 20-year-old man, Adam Lanza, starts his day by committing the ultimate “I still live with my mom” crime—he murders her. He then heads to Sandy Hook Elementary School, where he commits one of the most horrifying acts in U.S. history.
In just minutes, 20 innocent first graders and six educators lose their lives, and the nation is left sobbing into its collective sleeve. Lanza ends his own life when police arrive, but the damage is already incomprehensible. And if you thought that was the end of the horror, well, let me introduce you to a man named Alex Jones.
Ah, Alex Jones—America’s conspiracy uncle at Thanksgiving dinner who everyone hopes doesn’t start talking about fluoride in the mashed potatoes. Alex didn’t just claim Sandy Hook was a hoax; he shouted it from the rooftops of Infowars, his platform of choice for spouting nonsense. According to Jones, grieving parents were “crisis actors,” which is ironic, because the only crisis actor here is Alex Jones pretending to have credibility.
Fast-forward to 2022: A Connecticut jury awards Sandy Hook families nearly $1 billion in damages. That’s right, a billion with a “B.” I mean, this guy owes so much money, even Monopoly wouldn’t let him play. And just recently, a Connecticut court upheld this judgment. So now Jones is trying to sell off Infowars, which—fun fact—The Onion wanted to buy. That’s like Batman bidding on the Joker’s lair, except Batman would probably make it less evil. Sadly, the bankruptcy judge said no, because apparently, even chaos has rules.
And what about the survivors of Sandy Hook? The kids who made it out alive just graduated high school. Think about that for a second: kids who were six and seven years old on that terrible day are now 18. They’re heading to college, starting careers, and swiping left on Tinder. Meanwhile, their parents are still fighting for gun control because, somehow, the debate over whether toddlers should have to practice “active shooter drills” rages on.
Organizations like Sandy Hook Promise are still out there, trying to turn this tragedy into a force for good. But it’s a heavy lift when the best Congress can do is say, “Maybe the guns could have fewer accessories? Like, no bayonets?”
So here we are, 12 years later, and Sandy Hook’s legacy is one part tragedy, one part resilience, and one part absurdity courtesy of the world’s most creative misinformation artists. The lesson? Don’t let the conspiracy theorists win. Fight for gun safety, protect kids, and for heaven’s sake, if someone tells you to drink bone broth to ward off government mind control, maybe—just maybe—don’t listen to them.
