Not Communicating

Held without bail, in solitary confinement.  He made his first court appearance, briefly.  He is not communicating, making no effort to explain himself.  His eyes blank with disinterest or perhaps disbelief.  As someone fascinated with the human mind, the interior landscape of a consciousness that could experience events subliminally without having ever experienced them in reality, perhaps he feels some dimension of experience has erroneously occurred, swallowing him into its great maw.

He is clearly not responsible for what he has been accused of.  His mind aborted its clarity, its reason, its capability for intelligent cogency.  His exploration into that inner sanctum of existence separate and apart from reality appears to have shaken him loose from the here and now.  He entered a comic book world of irrelevant violence where human beings are mowed down in a frenzy of atrocities, but they were, after all, just drawn from someone's imagination.

His imagination followed a similar trajectory and he must have felt, with all his study, his knowledge of the neural pathways of thinking and understanding of the mind, of the hidden passageways to memory and experience and invention and story-telling, he could do better.  That social awkwardness would leave him, he would be acknowledged a master of invention, of creative intervention, of masquerading as a master manipulator of violence.

He had the free will to make a selection.  Between good and evil.  Evil, however, had an excitement that good lacked.  He chose the malignant character that belittled the champion of humanity.  His careful, meticulous preparedness for the launching of his comic character made real would have far more resonance than an appearance on film.  He was there, right there, in full living colour, fully armed, fully prepared, fully alert and prepared to act.

All his rehearsals, down to the very last detail, made for perfection of execution.  It is all meaningless, in any event; people dying, shrieking, bleeding, convulsing, fleeing, terror-stricken.  He had the power and he used it, brilliantly.  This was no mere act.  This was real.  In his head, it was real.  What is puzzling is that he is alone, in a jail cell.  And he is universally despised.

The joke's on them.

James Holmes did not answer the judge when asked a question

It was an experiment, a highly successful experiment.  In altered states of mind.  He proved something.  Not for him to explain the obvious.  They're so smart, they can do their investigation, reach their own conclusions.  Dead: 12.  Injured 59.  That's quite the score.