Words are, as ever, but the meanest of replies to the enormous significance of a tragedy like that which befell three innocent people in Kansas this week. Not only for the crime itself, but also for the miles-deep social cancer that it is a spasmodic symptom of. We are reminded, of course, that anti-Semitism remains thrumming beneath the pulse of our society, and it is terrifyingly far from the ash-heap of history.

As I think of my Jewish loved ones, I also think of how my own fate as a Latina trans woman is inextricably yoked to theirs, and how Frazier Glenn Miller’s bullets could easily have targeted me instead.

These are not idle musings, for it is the dimensions ...