The Desecration of Charlie Kirk

Tyler Robinson didn't kill Charlie Kirk. He just pulled the trigger.

The truth is, Charlie was already marked for death by a class of people. The same people who marked Donald Trump for death. The same people who will mark you and those you love for death, if you become too much of a problem for them.

They don't really want to kill you. In fact, they'd rather not.

It's a messy business, this whole murder thing.

It's just, you really need to submit.

And by submission, I don't mean agreement. They really couldn't care less if you're a total goose-stepping fascist posting to 300 followers on twitter or a classical liberal sipping wine while you read Sowell by your fireplace. You're allowed to have whatever opinions you want.

What you're not allowed to have is power. Charlie got a little too close, and so he had to go.

It's not personal. It's politics.

Act 1

The tyrant dies and his rule is over, the martyr dies and his rule begins.

That's what I posted to my Facebook page the day Charlie Kirk was assassinated. I didn't explain it, I didn't post a comment… I just posted that quote above a picture of Charlie, memorializing his life.

I still can't decide if that quote is cope or not. I posted it because I wanted it to be true. If Charlie's gone, then his death must mean something. We have to make it mean something!

I've never felt so much righteous indignation in my life.

And I know that millions of you feel the same, because that post went viral in a way I've never experienced before, and am unlikely to ever experience again. I felt the raw power of Charlie's influence moving through my page the day he died.

I had been a fan of Charlie for years, passively consuming his content for entertainment. I liked him, but I was also critical of him. I was still very much in my losertarian phase. So focused on my principles that I couldn't see reality, and had zero sense of political strategy.

I actually thought I knew better than Charlie. I really believed that.

Then, they killed him, and it's like a switch flipped in my brain. The world started to make sense. The reality of politics became clear. And for the first time, I could actually see what Charlie was building.

I was born 8 years before Charlie, but he was somehow 100 years wiser than I was.

The so-called 'marketplace of ideas' is, in fact, not a marketplace at all. It is a battlefield. Charlie was fighting the real war, trying to take real ground, while my libertarian friends and I argued in the halls of a marketplace that doesn't even exist.

I watched his memorial… that enormous event in the stadium, with hundreds of thousands of people. I watched the people who loved him try to put his life into words. I mourned him for months. I'm still mourning him now.

So, who was this man they were so desperate to defeat?

The most dangerous man in American politics ran on Starbucks mint tea. Mint Majesty, two honeys, all day long… because he talked so much, it was the only thing that kept him from losing his voice.

He stood at 6'5" tall, and he liked to joke about how he had descended from the Nephilim, the giants of the Old Testament.

He could effortlessly throw a football 50 yards just to show everyone who said he couldn't, that he could… and he had a big smile that spawned a million memes, most of them unkind. He kept smiling anyway.

So how does a goofy giant with a big smile and an odd Starbucks habit become the most dangerous man in American politics?

It started with a folding card table lodged in the basement of his parents' house. He lugged that thing to the nearest university with a homemade sign that said BIG GOVERNMENT SUCKS.

He was 18 years old, the age men can be drafted into war.

That little card table was the entire operation. That was Turning Point USA in 2012.

A decade later, that card table had become the largest conservative youth machine in America. Seven hundred employees. Seventy million dollars a year. Hundreds of chapters.

He filled arenas with the same kids the experts swore were gone for good. He turned out the youth vote that helped put Trump back in the White House… the President credited him for it himself.

Every year, those campuses produce the next generation of the progressive militia. The teachers, the journalists, the bureaucrats, the politicians, the judges… whoever holds this territory writes the future, and it was theirs, unchallenged for sixty years.

But then there was this damn kid, and his damn card table, setting up shop right in the middle of their territory…

And he just would not go away.

Act 2

Transphobe. Racist. Far-right Extremist. White Supremacist. Fascist.

And those were the polite ones.

The Sacramento Bee said Charlie "called for the lynching of trans people" while he was still alive. They were forced to apologize after he challenged it.

Called for the lynching of trans people. Quite an accusation.

So, is there any truth to it? Did Charlie hate trans people?

Let me show what happened when one of them stepped up to his microphone.

A few months before Charlie was killed, a young woman named Sebastian did exactly that. She said she was transgender, and started to ask her question, something about what age kids should be able to start taking hormones. Charlie's own crowd started heckling and talking over her.

Charlie stopped them.

Please give our speaker some uninterrupted speaking time.

Before Charlie said a single word about the issue itself, his first instinct was to protect her voice… from his own crowd.

When she was done, Charlie didn't lie to her, or try to soften his message to win her over. He told her he's against giving hormones to children, and went further, telling her that he'd lost trust in the medical industry to prescribe any of it in a way that actually helps the patient.

Sebastian didn't push back. She agreed with him. "I get that", she said. "I'm scared too, because I don't know what's true, what's not. Would this even help me?" And Charlie, instead of pressing the point and taking the political victory, he softened his voice… "Tell me," he said "Are you comfortable telling me your story?"

And she told him. She'd known since the third grade, she said. She was nineteen now, almost twenty. She'd been going by a different name since middle school. But she didn't know what was true about the medical side of it. She'd heard a hundred different opinions from a hundred different people… and she wanted to hear Charlie's.

"First of all" Charlie said, "thank you so much for that." And then he gave her the hard truth, gently. He told her he was about to say something that almost no one in her life would ever tell her… and he asked her to think and pray about it.

I actually want to see you be comfortable in how you were born. I know you might not feel that way, but I think that's something you can achieve. I think that with the right team and the right people, you don't have to wage war on your body. You can learn to love your body.

There's your transphobic bigot.

But the Sacramento Bee was far from alone…

The day after Charlie was murdered, Stephen King said Charlie "advocated stoning gays to death". He too was later forced to apologize.

One of the best selling authors in human history, repeating a lie about a dead man to his massive audience. What was he thinking? Only Stephen can answer that for himself.

I can speculate.

I'm not convinced that Stephen King is an evil man. I don't think he woke up that morning intending to tell a lie about a murdered father. In fact, I wish that was all this was. That's much easier to explain.

The truth is more chilling… he really believed it. He thought he was telling the truth. Stephen didn't decide for himself that Charlie was a monster. He didn't spend his time watching his videos, or listening to him on the radio. He had no idea who Charlie was, or what he was like.

So, how did Stephen King know that Charlie "advocated stoning gays to death"? Did he come up with that idea all on his own?

No, he was told.

He was told a man was a monster, over and over, by everyone he trusts, until it stopped feeling like something he'd been told and started feeling like something he knew. Like the sky is blue. You don't fact check the sky.

Everybody knows the sky is blue!

Everybody knows Charlie is a hateful person.

Stephen King knew it. Your aunt who shares NPR articles knew it. The HR lady at your office knew it. Your kid's teacher with the rainbow flag on her desk knew it. The barista with the pronoun pin knew it. The people celebrating his murder knew it.

Tyler Robinson knew it.

Hey fascist! Catch!

So Tyler is a hero in this world. He killed a fascist. A monster.

Whatever happens to him, his story is over. He's not important.

Charlie was convicted and sentenced to death long before he was shot. Not by a court. Not by a jury… by a class of people who consider themselves to be the rightful managers of America. The class that has ruled unopposed since at least FDR.

This is who told Stephen King that Charlie wanted to stone gays and convinced Tyler Robinson that Charlie was a fascist.

It's not a conspiracy, it's a consensus.

Have you ever watched a flock of birds? A murmuration.

Thousands of them, turning in the sky at once.

Where's the leader?

Go ahead and look for it. You won't find one. Every single bird in that flock is doing one simple thing: watching the few birds closest to it and matching them. That's it. No bird sees the whole shape, or gets to decide what form it takes.

That's the consensus. That's why Stephen King believed Charlie wanted to stone gays, and it's why Tyler Robinson killed Charlie Kirk. Nobody gave either of them an order. The flock doesn't give orders… it murmurs. And every bird adjusts.

They're just flying with their flock.

You probably know what this is like. If you are human, you are a social creature. You flock too. It's okay. We all do.

Tyler and Stephen weren't aware of this. They convinced themselves they were in control. That they had a firm grasp of the facts. They never saw the flock feeding them those facts… and those 'facts' turned one of them into a liar in front of millions, and the other into a corpse-maker in front of the world.

So who answers for it?

Robinson goes to prison. Fine. But the thing that made him, the thing that put the lie in Stephen's mouth and the target on Charlie's back… that thing gets to walk away clean and pick its next target. It always does.

The flock flies on.

Why does it get to keep flying? Why can't anyone stop it?

Because there's nothing to stop. The flock isn't physical, it's spiritual.

You can shoot a bird out of the sky. You can't shoot a belief. Kill the man who holds it, and it just moves to the man beside him. That's why the flock never breaks. You took Robinson out of it and it didn't even flinch.

The flock took out our most effective general, and your reward is locking up one confused young man who happened to pull the trigger. And even that, for you, is a struggle. You are tormented for months. Hoping you can get some small hint of justice… eventually.

This isn't the system failing you. It's the system telling you the truth. It's letting you know your place.

The one who can kill and answer to no one, that's the sovereign. That's who rules you. The one who has to beg the courts for months to sentence a single pawn… that's the subject. That's who is ruled.

The flock is your real Government, and it doesn't have a President or a Congress.

It has a vibe.

And sometimes, when that vibe feels threatened… it turns murderous.

Charlie threatened the vibe, so the vibe killed him.

Act 3

Charlie didn't just threaten the vibe. He was pulling people out of the flock. And it gets worse for them…

The martyr dies, and his rule begins.

Nobody knows the power of a martyr better than our friends, the progressives.

They are always fishing for a new one that they can use for themselves. Sometimes they even try to manufacture them. Have you noticed this? It never stops.

Smollett, the Bubba Wallace rope, the UVA hoax, hands-up-don't shoot… do I need to keep going? I haven't even gotten to the heavy hitters yet.

Let's start with Saint George Floyd.

Do you think a single solitary leftist or democrat politician genuinely gave a shit about George Floyd? Do you think Nancy Pelosi and Chuck Schumer were just so full of grief for poor George, that they couldn't help but take a knee in Kente cloth in front of all those cameras in D.C.? It's just a matter of basic decency! These are decent people, doing decent things… can't you tell?

Look at Mayor Jacob Frey crying over George's coffin. Weeping like a baby. It's because he just cares so much about black lives, you see. He's really broken up about poor George.

It's not grief… it's politics.

This is what progressives do... this is how they operate. They are fishing for a martyr that they can use to ram their agenda down your throat… and they'll never stop fishing.

Floyd is already fading. Six years later, even their own side is quietly moving on. The progressives already milked that cow for all the political capital it's worth, and now, it's starting to become a liability. Time to look away, pretend it never happened.

But not all of them fade. Floyd lasted six years. Their masterpiece has lasted sixty and counting.

Martin Luther King Jr.

The founding Saint of the Civil Rights religion. Complete with a holy day, scripture and heresy. To disagree isn't to be wrong, it's to be evil. Progressives finally secured the power to define all opposition as a moral crime. Racism.

Every institution in America bent the knee. Some of them literally, on television, before a football game.

It's taught to your children as gospel.

You've felt it. That little flinch when the subject comes up. You have to be careful with your words all of a sudden. You can smell the power lurking around you, watching you.

So, the progressives know the power of a good martyr, quite intimately. And you can bet that they know the danger of handing one to their enemies… their subjects, who they intend to rule.

And with Charlie, they know exactly what they've done. They handed us one.

If Charlie was the monster they said he was, the people who celebrated his murder are just normal people. Relieved. A bad man died.

But if he wasn't... then they cheered the murder of a father of two.

There is no third option… and they know which version they need for their story to work.

And so, he has to stay a monster. They can never let your grandchildren meet the man. The one that Sebastian met.

They have to kill him twice.

Act 4

"1 Nazi down." An art teacher in Iowa posted that within hours of the murder.

Have you noticed how many teachers hate Charlie? Some of them have the good sense to keep it to themselves, but a lot of them wanted you to know. They wanted your children to know.

"Thoughts and prayers to his children, but America became greater today." A social studies teacher in South Carolina said that proudly, right there on his Facebook page.

In Texas alone, the state moved to suspend the teaching licenses of more than a hundred of them.

Those are just the ones who got caught, because they said it out loud, under their own names. That's the only reason we even know about them. Nobody knows how many teachers felt exactly the same way and said nothing. That number is bigger… much bigger. And every one of them went to work the next morning raising the next generation of the flock.

That classroom is the battleground Charlie spent his life trying to take.

He had to drive across the country and fight for every minute, in front of kids who'd been taught to hate him before he arrived.

These teachers don't have to do any of that. They get handed a classroom with a government paycheck, and the culture tells them they're the real heroes.

The flock flies on.

And it didn't stop at the teachers. It went all the way up to Washington DC.

Days after Charlie was murdered, the House brought up a resolution to honor him. Nothing complicated, just basic decency. Honor the dead man, a good friend of the sitting President.

Well, that offended some people. AOC, a sitting Congresswoman, voted no on the resolution, and walked up to the microphone.

She called the murder horrific and vile. Then she read the charges.

We should be clear about who Charlie Kirk was; a man who believed that the Civil Rights Act that granted Black Americans the right to vote was a mistake.

She's got the wrong law. The voting one came a year later, and it's called the Voting Rights Act. She didn't do a basic fact check, she just uncritically fused two laws together to put the worst possible case against Charlie into the public record.

His body was barely cold.

She wasn't there to be fair. She was there, at the hour meant to mourn him, to desecrate his corpse.

Death was not enough.

Three weeks later, Congresswoman Ilhan Omar sat down with Don Lemon and said this.

But there is no legacy to honor. It was a legacy filled with bigotry, hatred, and White supremacy. And as a Black woman and as a Muslim in this country, I refuse to join the chorus that changes the history of what is on the record from this man.

That's on the record now too.

A sitting Congresswoman. A schoolteacher in Iowa. A kid on a roof in Utah.

Tyler Robinson wasn't uniquely evil. He was the only man on that roof. He was not the only one who wanted Charlie dead.

The kid who carved "hey fascist" into the bullets believed the exact same thing as the teacher who typed "1 Nazi down." Same ideology. Same hatred.

The only difference between them is one trigger pull.

And that's how the flock operates. They're not all killers. They don't need to be. The signal goes out, and the ones who'll do it find their way to the target eventually.

That's exactly what they did to Charlie. They'd been screaming "fascist" at him for years. It's on their media feeds, in their classrooms, their newspapers, their Discord servers… then one of them carved the word into a bullet and put it through his neck.

Signal sent. Signal received. One less effective enemy to contend with.

The flock flies on.

So, that's how Charlie's enemies have treated him. It's to be expected, that's what enemies do… but now we have to talk about one of his "friends."

Candace Owens.

And to understand what she's doing, you first have to be clear on what she's looking at. What actually happened to Charlie, because it was never a mystery.

We have all the evidence you could ever want to convict Tyler Robinson.

It was his own father who recognized him, and turned him in.

He confessed to his parents. He confessed again in texts to his boyfriend, the night of the murder. His DNA was on the towel the rifle was wrapped in. There's camera footage of him on the roof.

And the motive? He carved that into the bullets himself. Weeks before, he sat down with an engraving tool and etched his slogans into the ammunition. "Hey fascist! Catch!" "Bella ciao," the old antifascist anthem.

Candace knew Charlie. She built her career inside his movement.

And she looked at every last piece of what you just read. A father turning in his own son. The confession. The texts. The bullets he engraved with his own hands.

And she decided none of it was real.

She even became a ballistics expert in the process.

So, if it wasn't the confessed leftist with a trans boyfriend who killed Charlie, who was it? Well, Candace is just asking questions, you see.

Was it Israel? Just wondering! And Erika, his widow, standing over his casket… how much did she really know? Was somebody on his own security team in on it? And is there even a body? Was he quietly cremated to destroy the evidence?

She's just curious. She wants to get at the truth. No question is off the table!

Or…

She's not curious. She's casting doubt. Building a defense, not just for the killer, but for the whole flock he flew with.

She looked at Tyler, confessed, his own father turning him in, motive carved into the bullets, his DNA on the towel the rifle was wrapped in, and called him innocent. She offered to help his defense.

If Tyler Robinson's defense would like to contact me, I'd be happy to supply them the folder of the maroon boys that I began archiving when I noticed the bizarre fashion trend.

His own lawyers wouldn't touch a word of it. Why do you think that is? Are they in on the conspiracy too?

I'm not going after her for being wrong. Wrong is allowed. Questions are allowed.

Her crime is what the questions are for.

She's not looking for answers. She took the one thing that could make Charlie's death mean something… a good man, murdered by the left for telling the truth… and she buried it in a fog of doubt. She handed his real killers their alibi. She turned our martyr into a mystery.

People love a good mystery. Mix in some true crime and drama, and you have a hit story for YouTube that can pay out millions in ad revenue. It's one of the most watched things on the internet.

But a mystery organizes no one… it changes nothing… it just fades when people get bored and find the next shiny conspiracy video to pursue. Which is exactly what the flock wanted all along.

The flock marked him. Tyler Robinson pulled the trigger. And it's Candace Owens and her supporters covering the killers' tracks.

It's not curiosity. It's politics.

Act 5

You can tell a lot about a person by how they react when someone dies.

Not long before he was murdered, Charlie Kirk sat down for an interview. He had no idea it would be his last.

The last question: What is a quote that you live by?

He talks about his faith, then he says this:

There is a God, and I am not him, and I surrender to His will.

Charlie would never submit to the flock, because he had already submitted to a power that sits above it.

He had less than an hour left.

He walks out to that campus in Utah.

That big goofy smile on full display, mint teas sitting on the card table in front of him, while a huge crowd of patriots and progressives congregate to see him.

Everyone knew who the man of power on campus was, instinctively. All eyes were upon him.

For twelve years he would not go away.

So that's it. His story ends here. Charlie Kirk doesn't get to see his kids grow up. He doesn't get to grow old with Erika.

Then there's us. We lost our best General. The man who would walk into enemy territory and start recruiting the flock's most precious asset. Its youth.

Now what? Do we all set up our own card tables at the universities and copy what Charlie did?

Anybody can buy a card table, set it up on a campus and start talking to students. Plenty of people are doing that now, in Charlie's honor… but that was never the magic.

A kid argues with you for a few minutes then walks away. Maybe you get a viral clip. Okay. That's energy. But where does that energy go?

What made Charlie dangerous is that he was converting that energy into power. There was somewhere for that kid to go next. Campus chapters, staff jobs, and a national conference every year. Something that kept moving after the card table was folded up and put back in the closet.

The magic was in what Charlie was building. The machinery. That's what scared the flock.

We want to be an institution in this country that is as well-known and as powerful as The New York Times, Harvard and tech companies. And we believe we're creating that.

An institution that reliably turns the flock's own heirs into a coalition that refuses to submit to it.

Do you see why he had to go?

And now, the flock moves on to its next targets. His family. His supporters. His institution. It all has to go. You have to go.

You can keep moving forward, but you will be punished. Shamed. If you become too effective, you will be shot at. That's the game. That's your "marketplace of ideas."

If nobody wants you dead, you're not playing.

You are in a spiritual war against a thing that rules America and answers to nobody in it. There is no court above it. There is no election that removes it.

So the question is. Who are you going to submit to?

There's a reader of mine. His name is John. He watched Charlie get shot while sitting on a nursing home bed, next to his dying mother.

She died that Thanksgiving.

At her burial, John stood up and spoke to her. This is part of what he said.

And the truth is, on one September afternoon, I was sitting with you in the nursing home and we saw the murder of Charlie Kirk. He was a truth teller. A soldier of God. You saw how it moved me and it did. Since then I've been going to church. Trying to renew my faith. Trying to be the person you always knew I could be... The next time I visited you, in October, I was wearing a cross... You seemed happier for me than I've seen you in a while. I will keep trying to make you proud. I love you mom.

A Soldier of God.

Bear your cross, soldier.

~ Clay