Kids “knew” the TCM was involved because witnesses and news anchors had said so on TV. They confirmed it with friends watching similar reports. Word spread fast—conversation was the only teen activity in south Jeffco Tuesday afternoon. Pretty soon, most of the students had multiple independent confirmations. They believed they knew the TCM was behind the attack as a fact. From 1:00 to 8:00 P.M., the number of students in Clement Park citing the group went from almost none to nearly all. They weren’t making it up, they were repeating it back.

The second problem was a failure to question. In those first five hours, not a single person on the CNN feeds asked a student how they knew the killers were part of the Trench Coat Mafia.

Print reporters, talk show hosts, and the rest of the media chain repeated those mistakes. “All over town, the ominous new phrase ‘Trench Coat Mafia’ was on everyone’s lips,” USA Today reported Wednesday morning. That was a fact. But who was telling whom? The writers assumed kids were informing the media. It was the other way around.

One of them (Dylan if I remember correct) was a fucking sociopath and Harris was a follower.

They were never bullied loners, Dylan was a bully himself, pretty popular, and got laid often. He was harassing a former friend of theirs to the point where the police were called multiple times and no one ever dug deeper to find the bomb factory in his house.

The plan was chilling

Setting off bombs across town to divert law enforcement, then putting enough explosives in the cafeteria to (as experts attest) collapse 1/2 the school building.

Setting up triangulation of fire in the parking lot so that they could easily shoot every student that survived the blast and was running out of the building.

Bombs set in thier cars near the school building set to go off hours later so that all Police, Fire, EMS and news reporters would be killed in a secondary blast.

Experts say that if their timer fuses weren't so poorly built they would have killed more people than Oklahoma City

They only entered the building when Dylan realized that the first bomb failed and he forced Harris to randomly shoot people

Eric was also working hard to get laid. He made a final stab with Brenda, leaving a string of messages on her answering machine. “I’m sorry I lied to you,” he said. “There’s something we need to talk about. I’m seventeen.” He was through lying, he said—he wanted to take their relationship to the next level. And she could keep the Rammstein CDs he’d left at her house. He wouldn’t be needing them anymore.
The last part made her nervous. She called back to make sure he was all right. And she reiterated one more time that they were just friends.
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No time. Less than a month to go. Eric had a lot of shit left to do. He organized it into a list labeled “shit left to do.” He had to figure out napalm, acquire more ammo, find a laser-aiming device, practice gear-ups, prepare final explosives, and determine the peak killing moment. One item was apparently not accomplished: “get laid.”