Something Different (Updated)

 This showed up on my FB this morning and I though it was good enough to quote.  

 

 I think that part of this question derives from the public/private expressions of outrage.  In the case of Charlie Kirk, the outrage is public because the killing was public.   I'd never heard the names of the MN legislators killed before they died, while Charlie was in my social feeds constantly.  Finally, I don't think that those on the left quite understand the effect that the outright glee at Charlie's killing has had.   It is similar to the response to the UHC CEO killing, in the sense that it is being justified and celebrated much more than the killing of an innocent should be, especially by those who claim to value diversity, inclusion, respect, nonviolence, and peaceful coexistence.   The silence when conservative SCOTUS justices were threatened and a softball practice attacked spoke loudly.  The glee is turned up to 11.  

 

FWIW, here it is.  

 

 

 

"Something I'm seeing since the tragic passing of Charlie Kirk that I'd like to share my thoughts on....

A constant question being asked in my "interweb feeds".... "Where was the outrage for Melissa Hortman and her husband? Where was the outrage for children killed at school? Where was the outrage for (insert any other life lost in tragic, preventable scenerios)?"

The implication? That the grief people feel now is somehow unjustified because it isn’t equal to grief for others.

Here’s the truth: outrage is human, not mathematical.

We don’t measure grief on a scoreboard.

It’s shaped by MANY things, and in this case it's being shaped by proximity, connection, visibility, and what we witness.

I still think those are valid questions that are being asked, however - because EVERYONE'S questions in times like this are valid... So, if I could give an answer it would be simply in the form of a request to consider these things:

1) CONNECTION changes EMOTION.

We always grieve harder when we feel connected.

I didn’t mourn my grandfather when he passed (we weren’t close). But my grandmother’s passing still breaks me 15 years later.

Just as an example, most of America had never heard of the Hortmans until tragedy struck. But Charlie Kirk - love him or hate him - was in our feeds daily. That presence makes his loss feel more personal, even if you never met him.

It’s the same reason we mourn a close friend differently than a stranger. Both lives matter equally, but one hits our hearts differently. It’s absolutely NOT that one life is worth more, it’s just that our CONNECTION to people shapes our emotions.

2) We WITNESSED IT.

This wasn’t just news.

Millions literally saw it happen.

The violent death of a public figure, in front of his family, replayed everywhere. That kind of trauma doesn’t just land in your head, it lands in your body. That absolutely changes everything about how it effects us.

Imagine getting a CALL that your loved one has passed, and compare that to WATCHING it happen. You would undoubtedly have a different reaction, process things differently, experience a set of emotions more viscerally. Your grief still exists in both situations, but very likely amplified in the one that leaves an image in your brain for forever.

3) IT'S BEING CELEBRATED.

I don’t recall people celebrating the deaths of Melissa Hortman and her husband, or schoolchildren who were supposed to be in a safe space.

But there are millions of comments celebrating Charlie’s. That alone fuels a heightened response. Social feeds are flooded with mockery and cheers. That intensifies the outrage.

No one grieving Charlie is saying his life was worth more than anyone else’s. But millions online are saying...even celebrating...that his life was worth less.

People aren’t “hypocrites” for reacting differently. Different circumstances create different emotions. That doesn’t mean one life is more valuable. It just means we’re human.

The real sickness is in the voices that cheer death, that devalue life, that call evil “justice.”

Grief isn’t math. We feel it differently depending on connection, visibility, and how tragedy unfolds.

But what should unite us all is this: violence is never ok, and celebrating it is poison to our humanity.

Pray for our nation.

Pray for the victims and families of ALL of these crimes.

Pray that hearts are softened and humanity restored. "

 

 

" 

When a Conversation Gets You Killed, We’ve Lost the Plot

By Aaron “Buck” Burnett | Program Director | KKOB

Let me say this as plainly as I can: we are in real trouble.

On Wednesday, Charlie Kirk was assassinated during a Q&A session at a university campus in Utah. Let that sink in. A political commentator was murdered—not in a warzone, not during a riot—but while speaking into a microphone and answering questions from people who disagreed with him.

He wasn’t inciting violence. He wasn’t calling for blood. He was doing exactly what we say we want in this country: talking. Debating. Showing up in person to engage, face-to-face, with folks who don’t see the world the way he does.

And for that, someone killed him.

This isn’t about whether you liked Charlie Kirk. That’s irrelevant. Agree with him, disagree with him—hell, think he’s dead wrong on every issue. Fine. That’s your right. But when we get to the point where people are gunned down for the crime of having an opinion, we’ve crossed a line we may not come back from.

We’ve become a culture where disagreement is treated as violence and actual violence is justified as some kind of moral response. People walk around like they're righteous vigilantes because someone dared to challenge their worldview. We’ve allowed emotional fragility to masquerade as courage and confusion to parade as justice.

What happened to us?

This country was built on the idea that we can argue, protest, debate, and even offend each other without fearing for our lives. We have the First Amendment for a reason. You don’t get to kill someone because they said something you didn’t like. That’s not activism—that’s terrorism.

Take the people who cheer this kind of thing—and yes, there are some—and drop them in Syria, or Russia, or China. In those countries, they don’t even need a reason. You say the wrong thing about the government, you vanish. You criticize the wrong leader, you wind up in a prison cell or a body bag. Over there, people dream of having the freedoms we’re squandering here.

And yet, here we are—a nation so spoiled by liberty that some now see free speech as a threat, and silencing others by force as noble.

Charlie Kirk showed up. He brought his voice, not a weapon. He opened the floor to questions. He didn’t demand silence or compliance. He didn’t shout down the opposition. He leaned in, welcomed the challenge, and gave people a shot at changing his mind. He died doing what more of us should be doing—talking across the aisle instead of screaming across it.

What happened Wednesday isn’t just a tragedy. It’s a warning.

We’ve reached a place where many Americans now view their political opponents not as wrong, but as evil. Not as misinformed, but as dangerous. And once you convince yourself that the person across from you is dangerous—then anything becomes justified, including murder.

This isn’t how democracies survive. This is how they collapse. Not with a bang, but with a slow cultural rot. With censorship disguised as safety. With cowardice disguised as conviction. With bullets replacing ballots. If we don’t turn this ship around—and soon—we’re going to find ourselves in a country that no longer resembles anything close to the America we inherited. And worse, our kids won’t know the difference. They’ll grow up thinking this is normal—that if someone disagrees with you, you destroy them. Not in the comment section. Not on a ballot. But in real life. That should scare the hell out of all of us.

We need to re-learn how to live with disagreement. We need to stop idolizing outrage and start rebuilding mutual respect, even when—especially when—we don’t see eye to eye. Because without that? We’re not a country. We’re just a powder keg with a flag on it.

Charlie Kirk should still be alive today. Not because he was right about everything, but because this is still supposed to be a country where you don’t get executed for speaking your mind. If we’ve lost that…We’ve lost the whole damn thing."