The names Jimmy has for himself—“bottom-feeder,” “low-life motherfucker”—are street lingo, a kind of gritty poetry, cred with the homies in the classes. But here, let’s call him what he really was in that moment and on that day. He was a domestic terrorist. That’s what terrorists do. They terrorize. All the men in the RSVP wing of San Bruno and beyond. They’re the terrorists in our midst, purveyors of a horror that many people today, including some of our country’s leaders, feel is simply a “private” matter.
