"There is no profile," says Columbine expert Dave Cullen, speaking of school shooters in his new book, Columbine. What's more, most of the myths we believed about Columbine killers Eric Harris and Dylan Klebold have been disproven. They were not racist Goths, hell-bent on retribution for being tortured by bullies or teased by jocks. But they were one thing: angry. Filling their journals with hatred and rage, both boys showed an inordinate amount of frustration toward what they perceived as a system that was set on turning them into non-thinking zombies. They turned this wrath toward themselves in fantasizing about suicide, and toward others in delighting at the prospect of large-scale annihilation, and toward God in scathing diatribes against Him.

The occasion of the 10-year anniversary of the Columbine massacre, which was last week, is perhaps a good time to reevaluate the Harris/Klebold murders and ask, once again, the question without answer, "Why?" Why would two boys from affluent, stable, two-parent homes build bombs in the basement and storm into a school with sawed-off shotguns?

Both sets of parents agreed to meet with the victim's families to answer to the best of their ability these sorts of questions. I can only imagine what went on behind those doors, the difficult position those mothers and fathers were in, trying to explain what went so very wrong with their sons when they themselves were wracked with guilt and, most likely, wondering the same thing. Perhaps when the records of these conversations are unsealed in 2027, we will all have more clarity.

One thing is for sure, though: These boys felt an overwhelming sense of hopelessness. While claiming no religion, tough guy Eric, leader out of the two boys, wrote a journal called "The Book of God," in which he spilled his venom by the page. Humans were pathetic automatons, too stupid to think, bound by self-imposed laws that kept us silently agreeable all the way to our deathbeds. He resented medicine that kept the weak or sick alive and fantasized of a world filled with nuclear holocaust, biological warfare, and death.

Dylan, the more sensitive of the two, did claim faith in God. Even though his family was not active in church, he considered himself deeply religious and occasionally went on holiness sprees where he denied himself alcohol, removed video games like Doom from his computer, and stopped mocking other kids. He did this to cleanse himself but felt angry that God never seemed to fulfill His end of the deal. In his mind, God turned into a brutal master, set on torturing Dylan, much like He did Job. Filled with anger and self-hatred, Dylan began to crave death, just like Eric did.

Since 1999's attack, police and psychologists have been busy trying to write how-to guides to help authorities identify threats. One hundred percent of school shooters have been male, most came from solid two-parent homes, and most did not "snap" but planned their attacks well in advance. Only half were involved with video games and less than that were interested in violent movies. What then drives a child to such level of darkness?

Judith Warner, a New York Times blogger, in her recent ironically titled "This I Believe," claims to be content with ". . . a very abstract sense of faith---or religion, or God, or whatever you want to call it. . . ." A little Judaism here, a little Episcopalian there, a sprinkling of Unitarianism to top it off seems to work for her. She mentions that, according to Newsweek, having such a cobbled together faith is becoming more and more common.

Apparently, any parent unevolved enough to actually teach their child to follow their faith is doing more harm than good. To prove her point, Warner quotes Darwin: "It is worthy of remark that a belief constantly inculcated during the early years of life, while the brain is impressionable, appears almost the nature of an instinct; and the very essence of an instinct is that it is followed independently of reason."

In other words, the best thing we can do is let our children pick for themselves what is good, lovely, and true and hope for the best. Kind of like packing the house with Sour Patch Kids and doughnuts and hoping the kids eat salad. Reality hits here: Left to themselves, with no exposure to God, what child would choose faith? They are immature, self-seeking, and often oblivious to that which is outside their experience. And many postmodern parents, like Warner, believe that teaching, showing, or God forbid living a life of faith, might produce that worst of scenarios: the child following it. What a disaster. No independent thought. No individual reasoning. Just an animalistic, instinctual, zombie-like mimicking of Mom and Dad.