Ann Coulter reminds us that the Isla Vista knifer/shooter was Eurasian and the son of immigrants. She also read his entire 141-page “manifesto”

Rodger had been seeing therapists since he was 8 years old. Just last year, his psychiatrist, Dr. Charles Sophy, prescribed him Risperidone, an anti-psychotic. But after looking up what Risperidone was for — schizophrenia — Rodger decided “it was the absolute wrong thing for me to take” and never did.

See, that’s the thing about schizophrenics — they don’t think they’re sick. They think the lava lamp that’s talking to them is sick.

Rodger’s “manifesto” reads like Nikolai Gogol’s “Diary of a Madman” — generally recognized as the first description of schizophrenia, except it’s a little repetitive and not well-written, no matter what that “tech guru” says.

I’m one of the few who have read all 141 pages. It is a tale of increasing delusions, paranoia, hallucinations, and wild, grandiose self-assessments. In other words, it is a slightly less whiny version of Obama’s first inaugural address. (How many pages does your manifesto have to be before we can force you to take your medication?)

Rodger says of himself:

– “I saw myself as a highly intelligent and magnificent person who is meant for great things.”

– “Becoming a multimillionaire at a young age is what I am meant for.”

– “I am like a god.”

– “This was the moment when the rise of the oceans began to slow and the planet began to heal.”

(No — wait … Last one was Obama.)

Rodger saw every female as a “tall, hot blonde” — and, this being California, that’s at a campus that’s only 50 percent white. He viewed all couples as his sworn enemies causing his suffering.

Although Rodger loved driving his car, he “soon learned the hard way” not to drive on Friday and Saturday nights, where he “frequently saw bands of teenagers roaming the streets.” They “had pretty girls beside them,” probably on their way to “get drunk and have sex and do all sorts of fun pleasurable things that I’ve never had the chance to do. Damn them all!”

At Santa Barbara City College, he dropped his sociology class on the first day of school “because there was this extremely hot blonde girl in the class with her brute of a boyfriend.” Rodger couldn’t even sit through the whole first class with them, merely for being a couple…