Right now, we don't know anything. As I write this, the news is still coming out of El Paso, where there's been a mass shooting at one of the busiest malls in my hometown. We don't know how many people have been injured or killed — the latest numbers had the total at 19 dead, 40 wounded. We don't know how many gunmen there were — there have been reports of anywhere from one to three people in custody. We don't know who the shooter is, and we don't know why he did it — and we probably never will. Not in any real way. Nothing that will balance the horror and confusion we face, the chasm we find ourselves tottering over, a hole hungry and deep and never filled, no matter how much grave dirt we throw into it.