When I first saw the video, it disturbed me, of course it did. The gore, the immediacy, the shock. I hate political violence. I hate gun violence. And I hate how predictable the aftermath was.
Because my second thought was, watch how this will ripple. Watch how it will make waves. Watch how suddenly everyone, politicians, the public, people overseas, presidents, people who avoid politics like plague, will discover a newfound respect for human life. Watch how it will be used. And I was right.
People who normally roll their eyes at outrage were instantly sermonising online about how heartbreaking it was, how he was a husband, a father, how no one should be killed for their opinions. All things the left has been screaming for decades, begging people to care about. The hypocrisy was nauseating. Many of these same people idolised Charlie for downplaying gun violence, political violence, racism, mocking victims, flipping narratives, blaming those already hurting. But now that a white conservative Christian man was killed? Suddenly outrage was noble. Empathy, fashionable.
Some argue the difference is that his death was caught on video. But so were countless Palestinian deaths, shot, starved, bombed, begging for help. Those videos were censored, muted, restricted. They never reached the same global spotlight. Yet this video spread like wildfire: multiple angles, reposted endlessly, shoved onto every TikTok feed, featured on huge news stations, pushed by influencers, politicians, everyone. The contrast is so clearly not a coincidence, especially when you consider who controls the media and how the world responds.
The reaction wasn’t just disproportionate compared to atrocities against minorities, it was louder, quicker, more intense and long lasting than the response to recent democratic assassinations, a school shooting that happened on the same day mere hours away, tragedies that barely survive one news cycle. But this? This was treated as sacred. Instantly weaponised. Instantly spurring action. Suddenly politicians who had mocked every other victim of violence were calling for unity, justice, national mourning. It was almost laughable, if it weren’t so disgusting.
I wasn’t immune to dark speculation either. I felt uneasy because, yes, it’s possible a Democrat killed Charlie Kirk, but that outcome only benefits Republican agendas. It reminded me of October 7: how a tragedy can be used to justify anything. I thought maybe a left-wing person snapped and wanted to “prove a point.” I thought maybe the government orchestrated it, since Charlie had been loudly pushing for the Epstein list and this would conveniently distract from that. Especially when the right framed the shooting as proof of “left-wing extremism” before the shooter’s body was cold, amplifying false painful details, calling the shooter trans, an immigrant, demanding the death penalty. When it emerged that he was a white man from a conservative Christian MAGA household Overnight, the narrative changed. Suddenly he was “a furry,” “dating someone trans,” “secretly far left.” These claims came from news sources and people with authority, even as their credibility crumbled in real time. And even if he did like furries or had a trans roommate, the only reason to bring it up is to redirect anger toward a group already under attack.
I even thought it could be Israel, with it’s ties to the Epstein list and especially when Netanyahu tried to leverage the tragedy hours after Charlie had criticised Israel for the first time in months. That led me down a rabbit hole: apparently he criticised Israel after October 7, but once he got buddy-buddy with Trump he changed his tune and became loudly pro-Israel. The timing was… odd. But what angered me most was how quickly this single death became a moral emergency, while years of suffering, Black Americans lynched and dismissed as suicides, queer people attacked, Palestinians erased, victims of right-wing violence demonised, barely earning a shrug. How fast everything the right perpetuates gets concealed, twisted, re-framed, compared to how quickly minorities are demonised for their trauma responses. It's sickening.
Maybe it wasn’t Israel. Maybe a left-winger really did do this, and now everything will get so much harder, despite the mountain of past right-wing attacks that were brushed off as lone wolves or mental health issues. But I’ve never been into conspiracy theories, yet Trump, Israel, Epstein, “conflicts,” “terrorism”… the overlap is hard to ignore.
And ok, the martyrdom pisses me off too. “He died speaking the truth.” Giving him a holiday. Teaching about him in schools. Wild, considering MLK Day is already contested and teaching race or queerness is branded as indoctrination.
The irony kills me. People can scream for years about injustice and be mocked, ignored, scrutinised. But the moment tragedy touches someone unexpected, someone the powerful recognise, outrage, recognition, suddenly becomes common sense.
The fact I wasn’t surprised upsets me too. The way empathy is suddenly discovered by people when it suits them. It used to surprise me. The way compassion is rationed. How grief becomes selective. How some lives become symbols, while others become mere statistics.
I’m not going to protest for a man who perpetuated hate with his words. I’m going to protest for people the world feels comfortable overlooking. The ones who’s tragedies are so constant, so countless, that people have become desensetised. The ones whose suffering isn’t even worth a conversation.
It always annoys me when a creator I like has comments saying “if you don’t believe in God why are you so obsessed with talking about him?” It’s a common talking point but its so silly. Because 1. You can be really interested in something you don’t believe in. 2. Religion, especially Christianity when it comes to the West, has real political and social repurcussions. And 3. The creator often used to be in the religion they talk about which consumed their life for years, leaving them with long lasting negative effects. As passionate as a Christian can be in support of the religion, an ex Christian can be equally and even more passionate in critiquing it. And also, talking about it can help people who feel similar or who didn’t have the words to justify their discomfort or their leaving. It can help those who still fear God and show them that you can find community and life outside of ones religion. Refuting Christian talking points can help those who feel trapped by them. And at the very least, it can help those who still want to believe to approach it in healthier ways.
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