So little Hogg apparently wrote a book. We all know he didn’t write squat. He is too dumb to do that. Here is an excerpt from it. I love how he wasn’t even there yet gives an account of what happened inside while the shooting took place. This little liar needs to be silenced once and For all. I can’t even sit here and believe the lies that his excerpt contains. This guy is one scumbag deluxe. Book Excerpt After Parkland: A Teen’s Call to Action A survivor recounts the horrifying shooting that killed 17 of his classmates and teachers — and sparked a new wave of student activism. It was a plea heard around the world. Just hours after a gunman opened fire inside Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, on Feb. 14, senior David Hogg called out lawmakers on live TV: “We’re children. You guys are the adults. You need to take some action.” Overnight, he became one of the most recognizable gun control activists in the country. In his new book #NeverAgain, Hogg, 18, and his sister Lauren, 15 — who lost four friends that day — recount the shooting that changed them forever, and offer an intimate glimpse inside the student movement that’s changing the national conversation about guns. Here’s an exclusive excerpt in David’s own words: When we heard the first gunshot, I was in my AP Environmental Science class. Our teachers had told us the school was planning an active-shooter drill with actors shooting blanks so we’d get to hear the sound of gunfire. I looked at my friend and I said, “Dude, that sounded like a gunshot.” Then the fire alarm went off, and we all got up and headed for our evacuation zone. I remember saying to my teacher, “This is probably a drill, right?” She didn’t answer me. That should have made me worry a little, but I just thought, “Damn, those are some realistic blanks.” When we got to the first floor, I saw a flood of kids running toward me and shouting, “Don’t come this way! He’s coming this way!” I started running with them without even thinking about it. We found out later we were running straight toward the shooter. We would have kept going, too, but one of the guys on the janitorial staff stopped us and said, “Don’t come this way! He’s over here!” At that exact moment, teacher Ashley Kurth opened up the door to her classroom. Sixty or 70 of us jammed into her room in about 30 seconds. One girl was having a panic attack, but Ms. Kurth kept saying, “It’s just a drill, it’s fine, it’s just a drill,” and we all calmed down pretty fast, weird as that sounds. Maybe we’d just had too many active-shooter drills — aside from the upgrade in realistic details, this one was just part of our routine. Then I heard the thud-thud-thud of the helicopters. They must send out some kind of ultrasonic vibration because I could feel them, too. It’s like the thud was coming from inside my body. I felt the cold rush of fear race down my spine and thought, “Oh s---, what if this is actually real?” So many things run through your head in a situation like that. Part of me was thinking, “I’m going to die.” Another part was thinking, “This is just a drill.” Without even thinking about it, I pulled out my phone and started filming. Having a camera in my hand calms me down. Anytime I feel awkward or out of place, I just start recording. “So right now we’re in the school, an active shooter, it’s not a drill,” I said. As we waited in the classroom, I interviewed a girl who said she had texted her sisters, Shooting at my school, I am safe. They both responded with OMG, LOL, you’re funny. That one little anecdote captures the insane reality my generation grew up in perfectly — school shootings and mass murders have become such a normal part of our reality that we crack jokes about them. I get it. Even after experiencing it myself, I’m not sure it will ever be real to me. In fact, sadly, that’s probably why I’ve been able to cope. People keep telling me that I just haven’t started grieving yet, but I don’t want to grieve. I don’t want to go through the five stages that end up at acceptance — not now, not ever. When I got in the car that day, I screamed the whole way home. I was so angry, super angry, angrier than I’d ever been, pounding on the dashboard. I went home to upload my footage. Action is therapeutic. Later that night, after Lauren got home, I went back to the school to do a TV interview. I thought I left because I felt this sense of mission to get the word out. It took a couple of weeks and multiple sessions with the therapist before I realized it was really about avoiding my sister. Lauren cried for three days, pretty much nonstop. And it wasn’t the usual kind of crying you hear — it was Greek tragedy, rending-of-garments type stuff. I just couldn’t stand to be around her when she was crying like that when I couldn’t do anything to make it better. I didn’t feel awful. I didn’t really feel anything. I kept going out and doing interviews to get through the day. The conspiracy theorists had already started in on us by that time — kids were literally still looking for their parents outside the school when the trolls on 4chan started saying Parkland was a “false flag” and we were all actors. It happens the same way every time — a bunch of kids get killed, then their parents ask for some modest reforms to gun regulations, then the conspiracy theorists start ranting about the Nazi communists who want to destroy America by taking away everybody’s guns. The whole thing is like a machine for triggering PTSD. So what was different this time? For me, it started with Emma Gonzalez. I met her at the start of senior year. On first sight, to be honest, her shaved head put me off. “This is a person who’s trying to be edgy,” I thought. But we had friends in common and hung out before school, and my impression soon changed to, “Actually, this girl with the shaved head is pretty badass.” Our first conversation ever was about memes. And I remember that Emma made a joke about “seizing the memes of production.” So she was funny, too. We started hanging out and talking about politics and how messed up the world is. We talked about women’s rights and the environment. We found out we were both space nerds and talked about that forever. Emma talked a lot about how sad it is that so many people can’t accept other people’s differences. She said everyone needs and deserves love, and the most amazing thing about her is that she really puts out that love. She was the catalyst for me. I found out that it’s important to be open with your feelings because if you’re too busy hiding the things about yourself that you aren’t happy with, then other people can’t connect with you. And that led to a thing that still kind of blows my mind — the day before the shooting, I had this overwhelming urge to call Emma and tell her how much I cared about her. So I called and said something like, “You’re such an amazing person, I don’t know what you did to become so positive, but I know that you’re going to change the world and I can’t wait to see how you do it.” Emma was friends with this kid from the drama department named Cameron Kasky. And while I was talking away on TV after the shooting, determined not to allow this to become a typical two-day story, Cameron and a small group of his drama-department friends were quietly planning to rewrite the entire national dialogue about school shootings. Emma was the link that brought us together. Two days after the shootings, I went over to Cameron’s house for the first official meeting of the group. We knew that we had to focus on a few reasonable, achievable goals and hammer them over and over again, so we settled on basic things like background checks and raising the age limit for rifles from 18 to 21 — the Parkland shooter was 19 and got his gun legally, so that was important to us. We needed a hashtag that boiled it down, and Cameron came up with #neveragain. People always ask us how we came up with our “publicity campaigns.” The answer is, we didn’t. We’re really disorganized. Plus we’re teenagers, so none of us likes to be told what to do. But that turned out to be the best idea we didn’t have, because it takes a lot of individual thought and individual initiative to be that disorganized. Nobody asked for permission or approval — if they thought of something that seemed like it could work, they just did it. Some people did a lot of interviews; some people were really good at Twitter; other people focused on organizing and coordinating. We knew the odds were against us. If people could shrug off Sandy Hook and 20 dead first-graders, what chance did we have? We were insanely obsessive from day one. We just got up every day and kept going until we fell asleep. Some of us didn’t even go home. We just stayed at Cameron’s house, sleeping on the couch or the floor and jumping up in the middle of the night with another idea. Here’s a snapshot: Three or four days after the shooting, I was sleeping on Cameron’s couch. I woke up at 1 a.m. for a live interview with the BBC. Then I got up at 7 a.m. to do a live hit on CNN from school, and I looked over and saw a bed sheet on the floor and thought, “What is that thing under the bed sheet — oh wait, it’s Emma.” So I woke her up and we started to go to the interview together, but we couldn’t find her shoes. We ended up running out in what we were wearing, me in the clothes I slept in and Emma in her pajamas, basically. We got there just in time and suddenly we were on national TV — and Emma was still barefoot. We went to war with the NRA, along with a number of politicians and pundits. Some people thought we were disrespectful, but history taught us that we had to do something different. I think Cameron said it best on Real Time with Bill Maher. “We don’t respect you just because you have ‘senator’ in front of your name.” Decorum wouldn’t have gotten us on that show or CNN or MSNBC or all the other shows that wanted us. People really like the kid who finally says the emperor is naked. Then the death threats came rolling in. One guy said he couldn’t wait for the day when he could hang people like me. They started comparing me to Hitler. While that stuff was spreading to YouTube and Facebook, I made an offhand comment about my dad being an FBI agent. To the conspiracy theorists, that was conclusive proof that the Deep State had sent me to take their guns. There are two lessons to take away from that, future activists. First, don’t let all that nonsense upset you. It’s a distraction, which is exactly what they want. Second, they’re just giving you a bigger stage — use it to upset them. We just laughed at them and ourselves and kept hitting back. And we didn’t put out canned statements. We just talked like normal people, or normal teenagers anyway, and thousands and thousands of other people wanted to join us. That was another lesson — being yourself is actually a really good strategy. The way our generation has communicated our entire lives turned out to be the perfect way to deal with the opposition — you may have the Second Amendment and guns, but we have the First Amendment and Twitter. We learned so much at Marjory Stoneman Douglas. We spent a lot of time on contemporary issues. We debated gun control and the NRA, and talked about death and grief and mental illness. We spent a whole week studying school shootings. But it all seemed a little bit distant. When it happened to us, we woke up. We stood up to make our voices heard. And we have no intention of stopping. After you spend a few hours hiding in a classroom while your friends and teachers are slaughtered, you can’t stop thinking about how insane this is and how to break the cycle. Volunteer for political campaigns? Try to fix the mental health system? Fight the gun lobbyists? Push for comprehensive background checks? We think you should. We hope you do. There is a whole world to change.