R.I.P. Charlie Kirk
My two cents.
I’m sorry he was murdered, of course. It’s an awful thing, and I can’t imagine that the social repercussions will be good.
I barely knew about Charlie Kirk. I knew his name. I associated him with the political right. I didn’t know his specific views.
I believe I once watched some minutes of a video in which he debated college students, but I hardly remember what I saw.
(I give pundits little mind. For example, I may have been the last person in the United States to have heard of Tucker Carlson or Rachel Maddow. I actually don’t know if those two pundits are meaningfully comparable; my point is just that I ignore famous people on both sides.)
I didn’t know any details about Charlie Kirk’s personal life: that he was only thirty-one, that he was married and had young children, that he was close to Donald Trump, etc.
I know even less about the suspect who has been arrested.
Why am I writing, then? I guess to make the (obvious) point that most of us have nothing worthwhile and non-obvious to say. Lamenting is fine, because a life has been taken and human life is sacred. But how many of us can responsibly attempt more than that? I’ve noticed a disturbing number of people on social media – friends of mine – issuing or sharing calls to arms. Calls to, like, hunker down with one’s family (and, by implication, one’s guns); or to join a civil war that, allegedly, already has begun. Which all seems dangerously overblown, especially since I don’t trust the average person to understand (a) Charlie Kirk, (b) his killer, or (c) his many and varied admirers and critics. Because I recognize that I know so little about these things. And because I see other friends, Ecuadorians who almost surely know even less than I do about U.S. politics, posting about Charlie Kirk. (Their condolences are unobjectionable; their hagiographic imagery is not.) Which makes me think, maybe people are doing this because it’s a bandwagon to climb onto. (Which, arguably, I’m also climbing onto, hoisting myself up a little more surreptitiously than most.)
I’m sorry he was murdered, of course. It’s an awful thing, and I can’t imagine that the social repercussions will be good.
I barely knew about Charlie Kirk. I knew his name. I associated him with the political right. I didn’t know his specific views.
I believe I once watched some minutes of a video in which he debated college students, but I hardly remember what I saw.
(I give pundits little mind. For example, I may have been the last person in the United States to have heard of Tucker Carlson or Rachel Maddow. I actually don’t know if those two pundits are meaningfully comparable; my point is just that I ignore famous people on both sides.)
I didn’t know any details about Charlie Kirk’s personal life: that he was only thirty-one, that he was married and had young children, that he was close to Donald Trump, etc.
I know even less about the suspect who has been arrested.
Why am I writing, then? I guess to make the (obvious) point that most of us have nothing worthwhile and non-obvious to say. Lamenting is fine, because a life has been taken and human life is sacred. But how many of us can responsibly attempt more than that? I’ve noticed a disturbing number of people on social media – friends of mine – issuing or sharing calls to arms. Calls to, like, hunker down with one’s family (and, by implication, one’s guns); or to join a civil war that, allegedly, already has begun. Which all seems dangerously overblown, especially since I don’t trust the average person to understand (a) Charlie Kirk, (b) his killer, or (c) his many and varied admirers and critics. Because I recognize that I know so little about these things. And because I see other friends, Ecuadorians who almost surely know even less than I do about U.S. politics, posting about Charlie Kirk. (Their condolences are unobjectionable; their hagiographic imagery is not.) Which makes me think, maybe people are doing this because it’s a bandwagon to climb onto. (Which, arguably, I’m also climbing onto, hoisting myself up a little more surreptitiously than most.)