I will not speculate about who or what did this evil act. Instead I will discuss my thoughts on Charlie. Let’s be real: Charlie Kirk didn’t exactly pick the easiest path in life. Most people in their early twenties are trying to scrape together rent, figure out what IPA doesn’t taste like battery acid, and maybe swipe their way into a relationship. Charlie? He decided to take on the entire left-wing university machine armed with nothing but a sharp tongue, a stubborn streak, and about three hours of sleep a night. Call it reckless, call it bold — either way, that’s not the move of someone playing it safe. That’s the move of someone who thinks America is worth taking a beating for.
Kirk basically built Turning Point USA out of thin air. No trust fund empire, no family dynasty in D.C., just a conviction that the flag and the Constitution meant something. And while other people his age were being indoctrinated by professors who probably haven’t cracked a book since the Carter administration, he was on campuses challenging them, mic in hand, daring them to debate. If you don’t call that heroic, what do you call it? Masochistic, maybe. But that’s kind of the point.
Of course, he’s been mocked endlessly — by the media, by online trolls, by people who can’t even make eye contact without a safe space. But here’s the thing: heroes aren’t made in comfort. They’re made when the mob is booing, when the crowd wants you canceled, and you still refuse to back down. And Kirk never backed down. He didn’t just survive the outrage cycles; he thrived on them, like a political cockroach you can’t kill. That’s patriot energy if I’ve ever seen it.
And the patriotism isn’t performative with him. It’s not just about waving a flag on the Fourth of July and posting a cheesy Instagram caption. It’s about actually saying, “This country is still the best shot humanity’s got at freedom” — and then staking your entire career on that belief. While everyone else is hedging their bets or watering down their message, Kirk doubles down. He’s not out here auditioning for polite society; he’s out here making sure America doesn’t forget what made it great in the first place.
So yeah, “hero” might feel like a big word. But what else do you call someone who voluntarily walks into a hostile environment, refuses to flinch when the mob comes after him, and still believes this messy, chaotic, loud country is worth defending? He’s not a soldier on the battlefield, but he’s a fighter in the arena of ideas — and let’s be honest, half the people throwing rocks at him couldn’t last five minutes in that arena without crying foul.
In the end, Charlie Kirk will be remembered not just as a guy who started a student movement, but as someone who proved that patriotism still has teeth. He didn’t settle for blending in. He made waves, pissed people off, and gave a generation of conservatives a reason to speak up instead of shut up. If that’s not a kind of modern-day heroism, then we need a new dictionary.