This cycle of tragedy-driven hatred must stop. Because so much more connects us than divides us. And because tragedy has been and will always be with us. Somewhere right now, evil people are scheming evil things. All of us will do every meaningful thing we can do to prevent it. But each horrible act can't become an axe for opportunists to cleave the very Bill of Rights that binds us.

America must stop this predictable pattern of reaction. When an isolated, terrible event occurs, our phones ring, demanding that the NRA explain the inexplicable.

Why us? Because their story needs a villain. They want us to play the heavy in their drama of packaged grief, to provide riveting programming to run between commercials for cars and cat food.

The dirty secret of this day and age is that political gain and media ratings all too often bloom upon fresh graves. I remember a better day, when no one dared politicize or profiteer on trauma. We kept a respectful distance then, as NRA has tried to do now. Simply being silent is so often the right thing to do.

But today, carnage comes with a catchy title, splashy graphics, regular promos and a reactionary package of legislation. Reporters perch like vultures on the balconies of hotels for a hundred miles around. Cameras jockey for shocking angles, as news anchors race to drench their microphones in the tears of victims.

Injury, shock, grief and despair shouldn't be "brought-to-you by sponsors." That's pornography. It trivializes the tragedy, it abuses vulnerable people, and maybe worst of all, it makes the unspeakable seem commonplace.

And we're often cast as the villain.

That is not our role in American society, and we will not be forced to play it. Our mission is to remain a steady beacon of strength and support for the Second Amendment, even if it has no other friend on the planet. We cannot let tragedy lay waste to the most rare and hard-won human right in history.