Free Thinking Through the Fourth Turning with Sasha Stone

What kind of people would dance in the streets after the 9/11 terrorist attack that killed upwards of 3,000 people? The same ones who have now become elevated martyrs by large swaths of the Global Left: the Palestinians.
Katie Couric, like most mainstream journalists back then, had no problem exposing such monstrous behavior by those fed a steady diet of dehumanization of the American people. Would she do it today? No. Would any of them do it today? No.
Who would celebrate the live execution of a prominent activist on the Right, so much so that they’d lose their jobs for exposing what sociopaths they really are? Hundreds, if not thousands, on the Left did just that. Radicalized or mainstream, it didn’t matter. They have become what the Palestinians were back then: so propagandized and radicalized, they’ve lost their humanity.
You can see it now in those TikTok videos that have turned “When it Happens” into a viral trend. That’s what ten years of dehumanizing can do to otherwise decent people. They say they’re decent, but TikTok proves otherwise.
They have cast themselves as morally superior to the other half of the country and would point to how some on the Right mocked George Floyd after his death in 2020. But the difference is that many prominent Republicans like Ted Cruz instantly condemned it. No Democrat has condemned the mockery and the celebration of Charlie’s death.
Oh sure, they all said what they had to say: the standard “violence has no place in our politics.” They said it, but did they mean it? How could they if they’ve never condemned the rising cult-like fantasies of Trump’s death and the celebration of Charlie's execution?
If anything, the Democrats were more worried Charlie’s influence would grow, so they sent out their One True King, Barack Obama, to put Charlie’s legacy in context.
Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez did the same thing, acting as though what Charlie said - the cherry-picked, out-of-context quotes fed to them- was worse than their own side mocking and celebrating his murder. His words were worse than his death.
But that is who they are now. Speech is violence. Speech is hate. Speech must be tightly monitored and controlled. Is assassinating Charlie Kirk or trying to assassinate Donald Trump any different from the Jihadists who mass-murdered journalists at Charlie Hebdo in Paris for blasphemy against Mohammad?
Hasan Piker, aka the “Twitch streamer in California,” like Dean Withers, condemned those who made jokes of Charlie’s death. At least at first. Once Piker sensed the vacuum left in Charlie’s absence, he turned his death into a viral meme just a month or so later. Credit to Axios’ Alex Thompson for pressing him to explain it.
Piker’s song became a TikTok dance meme and a permission structure for many to showcase themselves as dead-eyed zombies dancing to the sound of the bullet hitting his neck a year later for the “Kirkaversary.”
Utopias only have two paths forward. They either collapse or they become more authoritarian. The Left still hasn’t confronted the radical elements on their side, not just Hasan Piker, but the many shooters who have risen up to become martyrs and heroes.
They mock, they meme, but underneath it all, as with Al-Qaeda or other radical Islamic groups, what motivates them is pure hatred. Words are violence. Words are hatred, and “some hate can’t be negotiated out.” They can laugh it off all they want, but they’ve left a paper trail.
Turning Point put up a Charlie Kirk statue, and it was immediately vandalized.
If they can meme a live execution and feel nothing, then why wouldn’t they see America as bad or worse than Al-Qaeda? The oppressor/oppressed indoctrination factory that is public schools and universities has raised them in the good/evil binary.
Video games, IP, and superhero movies all adopted that binary, and after Columbine and 9/11, parents like me shut our kids indoors to keep them safe, and this good/evil binary would one day become white people evil, brown people good, and Al-Qaeda, like the Palestinians, can’t be seen as the villains.
Abdul El-Sayed and Zohran Mamdani have arisen as cult leaders almost because there is nothing the Left will hold them accountable for, lest they be called racists. No one will look at El-Sayed’s erased history, the videos or the tweets. What did he think? What does he still think? No one will know because no one would dare ask.
The Democrats have never been held accountable for the sharp rise of radicalized violence and death fantasies that have gone mainstream. They’re rewarded for it with likes and reposts. They’ve never confronted it. They’ve never solved it, and the legacy media has supported them every step of the way, all the while demonizing MAGA as the more extreme side.
Piker was their masculine, patriarchal, non-white Joe Rogan. No more Mr. Nice Guy! Let’s get those Gen-Z and male voters. That was the plan anyway. Now, maybe it’s becoming a mess, a liability. Then again, maybe not. Maybe this is just who they are now.
How We Got Here
I know how we got here because I grew up on the Left. I was one of these people. I know what it felt like that day the towers were hit. I know why we pivoted so quickly to focus on the greater evil that was George W. Bush and Dick Cheney and those two wars that did what the war on Gaza has now done: flip the script, so America is the bad guy.
I know what happened in our schools. I know how women like me grew in power in America and changed our society amid the “Great Feminization.” I know what happened to my daughter’s generation, why so many white kids felt such deep shame they were willing to do anything to escape their own skin, even destroying their own bodies at the hands of a fundamentalist cult.
I know what it was like when Obama won and how we built our utopia - a better America shaped by more women and what it was like when our first female president was denied the win but just barely, putting in power a guy who would ultimately redeem Bush and Cheney and be sold as the World’s Greatest Evil to whole generations for the past ten years.
We were just kidding with Bush and Cheney. Trump is the really, really bad guy. And everyone went along with it.
Maybe I didn’t think it would go so far as young men picking up weapons to murder as part of the “resistance.” Maybe I didn’t think, in the wake of Charlie’s death, a guy like Hasan Piker would become such an influential voice and do exactly the opposite of what Charlie did by teaching young people to hate America.
But that’s what happens when a utopia becomes a totalitarian dystopia, closer to fascism than this country has ever gotten and not that far from where Al-Qaeda was on the eve of 9/11 - so full of hate and revenge fantasies that they would take advantage of the same people who welcomed them into their country and treated them with kindness.
I certainly would not have thought any of them, let alone most of them, would see the war in Gaza as “genocide” and then apply that to all of America and its history, redeeming the monsters who attacked us on 9/11. We’re the bad guys, they insist. We’re the terrorists.
But here we are, America. We are about to put these people who hate this country, its history, and many of its citizens, in power. We’re about to sell out the American dream because of high gas prices.
It’s not lost on me that Democrats have been saying the same thing to their voters. I was one of them. I see the mirror image of this moment: when gas prices and inflation were too high under Biden, Democrats begged Americans to vote for Kamala to save the country. I know they see it that way too.
But I’ve been on both sides. I know each side’s strengths and weaknesses. And that’s why I know the side that either celebrated the murder of Charlie Kirk or said nothing about those who did is the side that is dangerous not just for America but for humanity.
President Select
My daughter was just three when the towers were hit. It was three hours early in California. My French boyfriend at the time had a habit of waking up with CNN, and there it was. Smoke billowing out of one of the towers at the World Trade Center. “Turn on the news,” I told my friend that day.
It took us all a while to figure out who did it and why, and the first thing that happened was everyone felt fear that Muslims would be attacked. Even George W. Bush felt it necessary to say Islam is peace. And it’s true, not all Muslims- like it’s true, not all people on the Left but you have to condemn the radicalized, or else they consume the whole.
We were still haunted by the Japanese Internment camps after the Pearl Harbor attack, which took us to World War II. We didn’t want to be that America, not us progressive liberals. We were the good guys.
The 2000 election left us bitter and unable to accept that Bush was legitimately elected. And that mattered more to us than the tragedy on 9/11. It had to, because Bush was the president, so everything had to go not just wrong but catastrophically wrong - the wars, Wall Street, Katrina. We were making our own reality even back then because we could.
In 2004, Michael Moore released Fahrenheit 911, which began with the premise that the 2000 election had been stolen.
The villain of Fahrenheit 9/11 was the Commander in Chief, and much was made of this moment, when he heard of the attacks and people like me nodded furiously along. We knew who the bad guys were, and they weren’t Al-Qaeda.
And in 2003, just two years after 9/11, when Michael Moore accepted the Oscar for Bowling for Columbine, he was booed, with a part of the Left with their perspective still intact. Needless to say, that wouldn’t happen now.
We were beginning a new origin story, one where the worst people in the world were put in power by the Supreme Court and Big Oil. We weren’t quite at the place where we would divide and measure goodness by skin color or gender, but we weren’t far off. We just needed a leader to believe in.
And as our hero rose in the form of a “skinny kid with a funny name,” we began to find marginalized groups as our protected, sacred symbols because of our love and devotion to Barack Obama.
Just as our first black President became our savior, our villain was rising too. It was Sarah Palin and her demonization of Radical Islamic Terror. That, we knew, made her a “racist” and a villain.
In 2012, she was depicted as a paranoid idiot whose bigotry clouded her judgment in Game Change.
The Tea Party had already been cast as a “white power” movement to thwart its growth, even if by 2016 it would elect a president with the help of Charlie Kirk.
By 2012, we were a bitterly divided country with the Left deciding its enemies were not the brown people in the Middle East but rather the homegrown racists in our own country. We began to slowly separate ourselves from them. Whatever unity we felt after 9/11 vanished.
That same year, Kathryn Bigelow’s Zero Dark Thirty was released about the killing of Bin Laden. But the movie had no heroes. The final scene is brutal and haunting, full of children screaming and women crying.
The main character, whose life had been devoted to hunting Bin Laden, is left shaken and alone with the thought lingering in the air: what was it all for? Hardly the rousing moment of heroism we would expect when America won.
Game Change and Zero Dark Thirty were pure propaganda for the Democrats and the beginning of how we stopped seeing America as the hero after 9/11.
Not that America anymore
After 9/11, some questioned whether the Oscars would be held at all. Tom Cruise took to the stage and spoke to all of America, not just the blue half. He wanted to bring this country together, and that, he said, is what movies are for.
Remember that Hollywood? Remember that America?
After Charlie Kirk’s live execution, the cowards in Hollywood didn’t even have the courage to say his name at the Oscars or the Emmys, and still don’t. That shows you how divided we are, how scared they are, how they see their enemies as half the country, and how their deaths do not matter.
I think what hurts the most, watching so many of the 9/11 videos as I’ve been doing, is seeing and remembering when it was like back then, when we were one America, how everyone came through, how we held together, how so many ordinary people became heroes to help those who were trapped, many of them giving their lives for others.
Mothers lost sons and daughters. Wives lost husbands. 40% of those who were killed are still unaccounted for. It doesn’t seem like we’ve ever really come to terms with the tragedy of that day because, in its aftermath, the keepers of culture could not make America the hero.
But America was, and remains, the hero fighting the good fight. It’s the better fight, for a better world, even if I didn’t realize it until 25 years later. Now I see it. Now I understand because now I can see what dehumanization and radicalization can do.
Here is a clip from Triggernometry and guest Richard Miniter (watch the whole thing, it’s great).
I finally watched The Great Boatlift - the largest sea rescue in history - where so many New Yorkers volunteered their boats to rescue 500,000 people off the Island of Manhattan.
In these videos, I see the America I remember, the one I fled 30 years ago to spend the rest of my life online. I miss that America, the one that believed in our collective goodness, not the one where one side took all of the power and abused that power by seeing the other half of the country as their enemy.
And worse, became radicalized to the point of violence, to the point of mocking the assassinated and believing they have no other choice but to wish for the death of their president, in video after video after video.
9/10 and 9/11 will come back to us every year to remind us of what is great about this country and what is trying to destroy this country. Every year, we will be forced to stare evil in the face and fight for the forces of good standing in its way.
Godspeed, America. Godspeed.
.


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America lived through a political assassination one year ago today, and millions of people either barely noticed, shrugged it off, or openly celebrated. That was one of the darkest days in American history, a day I never thought I’d live through, watching people I used to know lose their humanity.
One famous example was the actress Amanda Seyfried, who posted this:
Charlie Kirk did not incite violence, and he was not “hateful.” Tyler Robinson shot Charlie Kirk to please people like Amanda Seyfried.
She doesn’t regret her words. She stands by them, like the good little cult member she is. She complained about having to hire a bodyguard. She should feel lucky she wasn’t shot in the neck, lucky her kids don’t have to grow up without her.
The Left felt emboldened by his death, even going so far as to celebrate it then and even now. When people lost their jobs for it - because who wants to employ a sociopathic monster - they whined about free speech. Jimmy Kimmel's cold heart could only make a bad situation worse.
And then the videos.
They tweeted and were rewarded for their ugliness. There was no bottom.
I watched in horror as they went at Charlie’s memory; so scared were they that his legacy would expand and grow like a mushroom cloud. They thought their true hatred could extinguish everything Charlie left behind, but they were wrong. They were attacking a cartoon they invented, not the real Charlie Kirk.
Charlie was right in the text he wrote the day before he died that Andrew Wilson read: the Left was trying to kill him.
Tyler Robinson said the reason he killed Charlie Kirk was that “Some hate can’t be negotiated out.”
Amanda Seyfried said “hate,” so did Tyler Robinson, and so did his defense attorney at the hearing where Robinson pled Not Guilty.
The Left killed Charlie Kirk. Tyler Robinson just pulled the trigger. Their conviction in the Court of Public Opinion was that dissent was hate and Charlie Kirk would not stop spreading it; therefore, he should be silenced one way or another.
Assassinations don’t happen every day, not in my lifetime anyway, especially not from a rooftop at a public event. A year prior to Charlie’s murder, on July 13, 2024, another killer climbed onto a rooftop and almost shot Trump to death. He missed. Just barely.
There would be two more assassination attempts on Trump’s life, and plenty more that might have been. Why is it so important to the Left that their enemies die? Because that’s where all of this totalitarianism has to go. Charlie stood for exactly the opposite. He didn’t incite violence. He stood up for robust debate.
But to the Left, they don’t believe that, which is why they’ve begun to resort to violence, excusing violence, celebrating violence. To them, that’s their solution to their biggest problem - what to do with all of these people who don’t agree with them?
Hate to the Left is described as being anti-abortion, against “transing the kids,” and holding traditional beliefs about family and faith. That’s the first layer. It goes deeper. If you are against illegal immigration, you’re a fascist; if you support lower taxes, you’re killing Americans.
“You’re a racist, a bigot, a homophobe, a transphobe.”
They don’t even know what defines their hate anymore. They just know they’re consumed by it, which is all the more ironic given that they tagged Charlie with that word: hate.
There was nothing hateful about Charlie Kirk, and he leaves behind a deep, dark hole that won’t be filled any time soon.
The Left has become not unlike the jihadists who kill those who mock Allah. Even if they aren’t condoning violence, they’re condoning punishing people just for the crime of criticizing them. That no one shamed those who celebrated tells you everything about their values, and we’re supposed to put these people back in power?
No, Charlie wanted to talk to them, to change their minds, to put himself in danger every time he faced them. They hit him with everything they had to shut him up, and nothing worked.
And Charlie Kirk got through to them just by stating his opinion and making his case. Imagine that. He was about the best the Right had to offer. He was a lighthouse.
The Left had to kill Charlie again because they had to kill his ideas, his thoughts, his speech, lest they somehow find a way out and reach the minds of the indoctrinated and maybe introduce critical thinking. We can’t have that.
Are there enough voices to counter the lies by the Left as they attempt to write Charlie’s history? I don’t know. But just for the record, here is how Charlie Kirk spoke about gay people or the LGBT community.
Here is how he spoke when confronted about his opinion on affirmative action.
He never backed off of what he believed, but he made indoctrinated college kids defend what they’d been taught, and many of them might have left those conversations asking questions too, like how it was that they spent so much of their education being told what to think, not how to think.
That is the gift Charlie Kirk gave them. He taught them what college should have - how to think. How to reason. How to question. And for that, he was “spreading too much hate.”
No one on the Left had any curiosity about Charlie Kirk because to question the official narrative is too dangerous. But one person did and made this viral TikTok. Shabooki_Sunshine puts into words how I feel, too. I wish more people on the Left would think this way.
It wasn’t only the Left. A faction of the Right also rose up in an attempt to kill what Charlie built and what he stood for, attempting to steal his legacy, destroy his widow, and undo everything he worked his entire life to build.
The worst of them is the ugly, rotten heart of Candace Owens, bitter that Charlie distanced himself from her, who was exiled from Turning Point because she, like so many of them, had gone full Hitler in deciding the Jews were responsible for all of the evils in the world. That was never Charlie Kirk.
Owens flew in like a hungry vulture to pick at Charlie’s corpse and steal his legacy, as she has no legacy of her own. Even now, on the one-year anniversary of her death, she’s harassing his widow, making it all about her. Has there ever been such a loathsome creature?
She has done nothing good for humanity or tried to change minds in any positive way. Her entire platform is built on taking advantage of very stupid people, women mostly, who are transfixed by her gobbledegook. Charlie deserved better, but Candace stole him and now pretends he belongs to her.
Most disappointing of all are those whom Charlie trusted, bowing in silent deference to Candace, either because they don’t want to alienate her large audience or they’re afraid of her, so they stay silent. They say nothing as she drags Erika Kirk into the arena again and again, blaming her for Charlie’s murder, blaming the Jews, and blaming Erika for being manipulated by the Jews. It is a black hole of delusion and bitterness.
Candace Owens had to kill Charlie a second time because she didn’t like the guy who saw her for who she really was, because, of course, he did. Any bright light could figure that one out, even if he was too trusting for too long. She needed him to die a different way so she could rob the grave and get rich.
It shouldn’t be that Candace wrote herself into his story so that everyone talking about Charlie Kirk or Erika will have to talk about her, too. But for an empty-eyed sociopath like Candace, even negative attention is better than none at all.
The truth is that even in death, Charlie still outclasses all of them, on the Left and the Right, who are trying to kill him twice. The more they lie about him, the less power they have. They could not build what he built.
They could not reach the lost boys cast aside by an indifferent cult that had no place for the majority of Americans who don’t have an identity category to elevate themselves and are just trying to live decent lives.
They failed to kill Charlie’s memory because his goodness shines through. It’s there in all of the many videos he’s left behind, like a trail of breadcrumbs. It’s there in the beautiful faces of his wife and children.
It’s there in how he built a movement and helped elect a president.
I hear you, Charlie. I hear your voice, and I know how much you want to be in the fight now, helping stave off a blue wave, helping guide the young, helping to protect your wife and kids.
What Charlie Kirk taught me
America lost something when Charlie was killed. We saw who we were in how the Left celebrated his death. We saw who we were when the insane conspiracy theories were unstoppable. We saw who we were when few people stood up for Erika Kirk, who was bullied and demonized for months.
But we lost something even bigger, too. We lost a bridge back to each other, a guy who would go anywhere and talk to anyone. We don’t have anyone like that now. We don’t have someone who cared that much about bringing back faith and family to the young who are the mercy of the Left’s fundamentalist cult or the increasingly extreme forces rising on the Right.
We needed Charlie, and we still need him. But since we don’t have him, we have to keep his memory alive. We have to make sure they don’t kill him twice.
The day before Charlie was murdered, he posted this on X:
The next day, everyone realized how right he was.
I wish I could say what I learned from Charlie was the kindness he showed to people who called him a racist to his face. I wish I could say I was that good. But I am not. The hatred that fills my heart when I see how people lie about Charlie Kirk, especially on the Left, feels like water on a sinking boat. The more I try to bail it out, the more futile it is.
I didn’t know Charlie Kirk or think much of him before September 10, 2025. I felt like a phony when he was murdered because I had not been paying attention to what an irreplaceable voice he was.
It’s quite a thing to discover who someone is after they’re gone. As I began watching his videos and listening closely to what he said, not what they said he said, I found his voice more necessary than ever. Every time I hear it while scrolling TikTok, I stop and listen. Be more like Charlie Kirk, I think to myself. Listen, debate, persuade. Humanize.
I saw young students take the microphone to face him down, hoping to own him, but every time I saw them thaw out and find their humanity because Charlie treated them with respect and always told the crowd to do the same.
We need to keep what Charlie left behind alive. We need to protect it. We need to amplify it. We need to make sure the wavering flame is never fully snuffed out.
His friends and colleagues, not to mention his wife, shouldn’t have to fight every day to keep what Charlie built alive. But he can rest in peace because we can take it from here. But no, we will never be the same.



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In the good old days, before the Great Feminization, social media tribalism, and the instant fame of TikTok, most people felt disgust and horror at the thought of a mother killing her kids, let alone methodically leading each one down in the basement, then strangling them with an exercise band.
This is the stuff of nightmares. Imagine your mother, the person you trust most in the world, telling you to “go to God, baby” as you felt your throat close and your life wither away. We’ve seen their faces, and we know their names.
Everyone should be horrified, and yet, three years after the murders, Lindsay Clancy is not seen as a monster by hundreds of thousands of women all over the world but rather as their hero and a martyr for the agony and pain of motherhood.
We are Lindsay! We stand with you, Lindsay!
A triple homicide suspect whose fate was upended by one juror who withstood the pressure of 11 others to insist she was guilty beyond a reasonable doubt has become, for women, another Me Too moment. Me too, Lindsay. Me Too.
Why are so many women losing their minds over this case, insisting Lindsay isn’t guilty because either she was afflicted with postpartum psychosis and had no control over these acts or Patrick did it because Patrick “said it” and he wanted out of the marriage to go have an affair with the woman he’s now married to.
I wish it wasn’t mostly women who are vulnerable to this level of group psychosis. But it is. Women are communal. They tend to form groups or tribes, out of necessity and human evolution.
Every time I scroll TikTok, I see them. There they are, staring back at me, those crazy, crazy women, performing for total strangers, united only by one singular idea: Lindsay Clancy is not guilty.
Welcome to Rock Bottom
Lindsay Clancy has been cast as a typical heroine in a Lifetime movie, or the protagonist in one of the psychological thrillers so popular on Audible. I know this world all too well. I watch these movies as a guilty pleasure, and I consume so many of these books that I forget which ones I’ve already read.
It looks something like this:
This might explain why the less camera-ready child killers like Andrea Yates or Susan Smith never became a worldwide sensation.
The plots play out almost the exact same way. The ambitious, successful, beautiful woman has a seemingly ordinary life until it is disrupted by a dark force. Almost always, this is an abusive, manipulative, lying, cheating man. But not always. Sometimes it’s a woman. Whatever it is, the protag is never to be rescued. She must always rescue herself. Men who are “good” are allowed to admire them from afar and serve them but never save them.
Lindsay Clancy has fit neatly into this role, especially if you are one of the truly insane women who believe she didn’t do it, and there are a lot of those. How perfect for a Lifetime movie or a psychological thriller if we found out in the last act that Patrick really did do it and Lindsay emerges as the true victim.
Their theory is that Lindsay only thinks she killed the kids when, in reality, Patrick did it. It’s just that Lindsay did do it. She admitted it. She told the Chaplain first. Then, she told her husband and a psychologist that a voice told her to do it. The voice never appeared before or since because the voice was actually the mother who wanted to kill her kids.
If Patrick Clancy is guilty of anything, it’s being too kind and trusting of his wife. Their text message exchange the day of the murders:
And a recent appearance at his church.
Patrick Clancy and their entire family have forgiven Lindsay and believe this was the result of postpartum psychosis, which is why Patrick and Lindsay are both suing the healthcare providers who treated her. And it also explains why they stonewalled, testified for the defense, and refused to give any insight into what else might have driven Lindsay to murder that day.
These are not the cries of someone who lost her children but the cries of a woman who remembers that moment she caused them so much fear, so much pain, and their deaths. If a voice ordered her to do it, why didn’t she just say no? Why didn’t she scream for her babies when she snapped out of it?
Believe Women
I always thought it would be funny to put out a bumper sticker amid the Me Too movement that said: “Believe Children, Salem, 1692.” I’m not sure anyone would have gotten the joke. There aren’t many people out there like me who have read every book, listened to every podcast, and know everything there is to know about the Salem Witch Trials.
One thing I know for sure, however, is that it wasn’t about “burning witches” nor was it about the patriarchy punishing women. These are lies that have never been corrected. The truth is that it was adolescent girls, not men, who had the power to decide who could live and who would die.
So many people were convicted and hanged in Salem because of “spectral evidence,” what you could not see but could only imagine. There is a reason so much power was handed to those adolescent girls. Spectral evidence is why it’s so hard for so many to see the Lindsay Clancy case clearly.
It was postpartum psychosis! It was bad therapy! It was the drugs! It couldn’t have been Lindsay. How else to explain how a seemingly normal “perfect” mother, high-achieving student, biology major, competitive cheerleader, could have killed her kids and then tried to kill herself?
And for those girls in Salem, no one would have ever believed they could lie like that for so long. What Cotton Mather would call the Wonders of the Invisible World is the stormy darkness of the female mind.
We can see from the Clancy case that so many are unwilling to see it for what it is: a mother who wanted to murder her children and took meds to stop those thoughts from coming, but they came anyway. All she wanted was for the problem to go away.
But it’s that mysterious world men don’t dare even try to understand and usually avoid the endless emotional needs of women, which is why women need other women and why so many are now wrapping their arms around Lindsay Clancy. Me too, Lindsay.
But what about the kids? Why isn’t there a bigger movement for them? Why is everything and everyone else blamed for their deaths except the woman who planned it? Thought it through. Knew exactly where the bands were and how to kill her children one by one. Spectral evidence is that no one dares question a woman who claims she was in postpartum psychosis and gets away with murder.
Lizzie Borden got away with murder, it’s been theorized, because she hid the murder weapon and the bloody clothes in her menstrual pail, and none of the male detectives or any of the lawyers wanted to get anywhere near that subject.
How does any society survive when this kind of murder is not only glossed over but excused because it’s the woman who matters, not the kids? Why not the kids?
And why are things so much different now from when the case first broke in 2023? It’s easy if you know your Salem history. If Donald Trump was an existential threat to our utopia like the Devil was to Salem, then his second win in 2024 kicked into motion a Me Too on steroids. Now, it isn’t just about who assaulted, harassed, or raped women. It's about all men.
Lindsay Clancy became their avatar because she tried to do everything right. She was the best woman, wife, and mother she could be, and it still wasn’t enough. Not even her Beach Body, Attachment Parenting, water parks, or birthday parties were enough. The same woman who left the hospital before she was ready so as not to miss her daughter’s birthday is the same woman who, a short time later, killed her daughter.
That mirrors the psychology of what happened to so many women who thought they had enough power to win the presidency with Hillary and then with Kamala. Their collective rage projected onto Lindsay Clancy has exploded in a way it probably never would have otherwise.
Trump’s second win, along with a hungry social media churn that wants more stories that will ignite our culture wars, turned a grotesque triple murder into a spectacle of narcissism and look-at-me trauma porn.
“Me Too Lindsay”
I spent so much of my adult life serving myself, chasing my own happiness because that was the blank check written for me as the first generation to come of age after Rose v. Wade and the Feminist movement. I couldn’t just have kids and get married. My life had to amount to more than that.
Women became successful homeowners and business owners, and were elevated to positions of power thanks to a concerted effort to reorder our society and achieve gender parity across all industries and spheres of power. But chasing our happiness would eventually lead us back to where it started. How could we have everything and still not be enough?
The world was changing. Now, it wouldn’t just be white men in charge. We would teach the young about the oppressors and the oppressed, and they would grow up to seek social justice, to fight against the colonizing white supremacist empire America had become.
We just had no idea what we were building, what kind of madness we would unleash, and how it would all go so wrong for us that we’d end up abandoning women athletes, vulnerable women in prisons - we’d even accept that a transgender woman winning at Chess or Jeopardy was a win for women. We did it! Except that we didn’t.
Little by little, the rights of the mostly white feminist women who dominated the Left were eroded. They just weren’t oppressed enough. It was “white feminism” - it was “TERFS.” Women were expected to take two steps back, to de-center themselves if they weren’t “of color” or “trans.” Abortion was all they had left. This baby is not yet human.
And should we be that surprised that we’ve arrived here? If a baby is already disposable and if abortions have become almost an act of empowerment, why wouldn’t the killing of children be the next thing women force themselves not to care about?
Mass hysteria gripped Salem Village for one long dark winter. But how long will ours last? How far will all of this go? If rock bottom isn’t turning a mother who murdered her children into an internet sensation, I don’t know what is.
I am suddenly afraid for babies and children in this country and the mothers who see them as their oppressors. I am afraid of what those mothers might do, and I am even more afraid of a society of women that doesn’t even seem to care.


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The Psychopath
Lindsay Clancy, in my opinion, did not want to kill herself. She wanted to kill her children.
It was all becoming too much for her, and she felt like she was drowning in it. Drowning in trying to be the perfect wife and the perfect mother. Her thoughts of suicide came as she tried to stop her thoughts of wanting to kill her children because what mother would ever think of doing such a thing?
That voice? That was her. That was her hatred bubbling up, especially for Dawson, the middle child. Her hatred at herself for not being the perfect mother, and the loud voice of her inner psychopath who gave her advice on how to end her misery. Kill them. That’s what you really want to do. Then, you can kill yourself.
Except that she didn’t really want to kill herself. She is a nurse, after all, and everyone knows how to commit suicide by slitting your wrists. She would know exactly where the carotid artery was, oh, but that voice would tell her just make it look like that was what you were trying to do. Get enough blood to make it convincing, then crawl out the window and into the snow and wait for your husband Patrick to find you and save you.
What wasn’t in the plan? The way she fell, paralyzing herself, which is why these, along with whether she had a lawyer or not, were her primary concern once in the hospital. Do my legs work, she asked. The voice guided her through all of this and probably even through the trial now, careful never to disclose that it’s still with her. The camera is on you now, Lindsay. Put on a good show.
Maybe a part of her was sad to hear what the voice made her do, but she knew the voice was her own. It was the psychopath within that did not want to do the job of motherhood anymore. She wanted her old life back. She wanted to be who she was before. She wanted control. Her inner voice was herself.
She tried every medication she could. She tried aspirations. But the dark thoughts kept seeping through, no matter how much she tried to suppress them. She disclosed these thoughts to her husband and mother and hinted at them to her best friend.
What she never did was turn herself in for them as a danger to her own children. If the husband bears any responsibility for these deaths, it is that he did not turn her in himself and keep those precious babies far, far away from her.
On the day of the killings, Lindsey Clancy meticulously planned her actions, not as an irrational act but as a coldly rational one. Separating the children one by one and leading them down into the basement would have been scary for them, since it had never happened before. That was where Daddy worked. That was where Mommy worked out. That was where guests slept. It was not where kids belonged.
And that ominous walk down those stairs with Mommy must have been terrifying, but their little brains could not comprehend what would happen next.
Here is a clip from Chicks on the Right highlighting the prosecutor’s powerful closing.
The hope and the reflex is to blame the drugs. We’re a country of people on too many drugs, whether they’re dying on the streets of San Francisco of Fentanyl or they’re murdering their children in Massachusetts. One thing is for sure: lots of people are making lots of money selling the illusion that there is such a thing as being perfect.
I noticed this back in the 1990s when suddenly everyone had something wrong with their brains. We’d gone through therapy and healed the trauma and abuse in our past, but it didn’t make us “right” or “correct.” We needed drugs for that. We needed, wanted to be “healthy.”
We were the victims of our hard lives, of our society, of our government, of the environment, of our diet, of our education, our culture, our marriages, and yes, even our children.
Our children have paid the price, too, because if they weren’t perfect, something had to be wrong with them; we had done something bad or failed at motherhood. The mythical “post-partum” depression came on like one of these ailments in our brains we could do nothing about. We were all supposed to respect women who undergo this affliction and forgive them everything.
Over the many decades, especially on the Left, we’ve become separated from ourselves in nearly every way. Whether it’s mothers aborting their children now as a rite of passage and an act of empowerment, or it’s mothers resenting their children and unable to mother them with post-partum. Be afraid, they say, be very afraid.
And then, all the way down to our precious babies whose genders we now view as potentially “something wrong with their brains.” Mothers allow gender clinics, teachers, and influencers to tell them they don’t know their own babies. Drugs will fix them. Surgery, intervention, turn them into something else, someone else, someone more perfect.
Women did not evolve to do it all alone. We evolved to be hovered over by our own mothers, our aunts, our sisters. Since women had babies so young in every era except the modern one, they needed the help and guidance of older women, which is why humans are among the tiny handful of species that undergo menopause, like Killer Whales. Older women have a role: to guide, to lead, and to help raise the younger generations.
Lindsay Clancy wanted to do it all alone. Or at least, she wanted it to look like she did. An athlete, a nurse, and a mom, she wanted that Instagram fantasy all women believe they deserve. It all looked so good outwardly, from photos to testimonies of family and friends. But Lindsay was good at hiding. She was not a good mother at all, it turns out. She was a psychopath.
It isn’t that mothers don’t kill their babies. They do. They dump them in trash cans, leave them in toilets, beat them until they can no longer breathe. Andrea Yates believed her children were demons and that they needed to be killed. That is what true psychosis looks like, and it’s more common than it should be.
Women should not be doing motherhood alone, at least not those who are fragile enough to crack under pressure.
It’s not easy. It's shocking how difficult it can be just to try to live your life after you’ve had a baby, but it is especially so for the modern woman who is used to centering herself.
I was one such woman. By the time I had my baby at 32, I wanted her. She was a way for me to heal from my own childhood because I would do everything right.
My own mother got so angry at times she flew into violent rages. She had four babies before the age of 25, and that must have been hard. We were untamed, wild children, and she needed control. Even now, I sometimes feel nervous when I spend time with her because we never knew when the fury would arrive or why.
Like Lindsay, I was into the “attachment parenting” method, which is just the natural way women raised children before they invented things like cribs and formula. I didn’t want drugs during childbirth and wanted to do it all naturally. This is the kind of pressure women put on themselves to be perfect. If one thing goes wrong, they feel like a failure. And things will always go wrong. Breastfeeding them, co-sleeping with them, hugging them when they cry.
Lindsay felt guilt for not being the perfect attachment parent and leaving her baby to cry it out with sleep training. She couldn’t sleep, and this was supposedly the solution. But leaving babies to cry it out is another way to separate mothers from their natural instincts, and Lindsay knew that too. But if the baby went away, then the problems went away too.
After 18 hours of agonizing labor, I begged for the epidural. They’d already given me morphine, which did nothing. My labor was induced, and the contractions were unlike anything I’d ever felt in my life. The only thing I could do was scream. And when she finally came out of me, and I saw her face, I knew her already. I recognized her. My baby.
I kept yelling for the nurse, “Just give me my baby!” They wanted to clean her up and check her vitals, but I just wanted to hold her in my arms to keep her safe. When they finally gave her to me and when I was complaining that I had wanted to do it naturally, without drugs, the nurse looked at me and said, “Healthy mom, healthy baby.” She was right. That’s all that mattered.
That’s also the kind of thing labor and delivery nurses see all the time. They see the perfect and the imperfect. They see the joys and the tragedies. They see the struggles and failures. Lindsay Clancy knew all of them.
I didn’t let go of my baby for a full two weeks. She stayed in my arms and close to me at all times. I had nightmares of something happening to her — what would I do? If there was a fire, or an intruder, or an earthquake, or a mass shooter. I was raising her without a father, which made me both the father and the mother, and yes, that was hard. It meant my life would no longer be the most important thing.
Of course, I lost my temper on occasion. But I knew I would never be like my mom. I might have been if I’d had more than one. Children are their own people. They don’t do exactly what you want them to do at all times.
One of my jobs was writing movie reviews, and if my daughter didn’t go down for a nap, I couldn’t make the showtime, so I’d drive around until she did, and sometimes she didn’t, and I felt the pressure of that, and I would think and sometimes say, “time for sleep!”
The few times I lost my temper stay with me. They haunt me. I wish I could go back and scrub them from my memory and my life because I was, I think, all things considered, a pretty good mom otherwise. Perfect? No. And we all want to be perfect because if something is wrong with our kids, it means we weren’t perfect mothers.
I would hear the complaints of other mothers and their difficult children. Why couldn’t they behave? I saw them punish them with time-outs, and I always thought I was so lucky to have such a good kid. It was never bad for me. It was the best thing that’s ever happened in my life. So I can’t get there. I can’t imagine wanting a life without my daughter. My life is my daughter.
And this is what I think haunted Lindsay Clancy the most. She wasn’t a perfect mother because one of her kids was driving her crazy with his obstinacy. He was the middle child, Dawson. She loved the daughter and the baby, but Dawson did not do as he was told and made everything a battle.
When your life runs like clockwork and that life depends on everyone and everything doing things perfectly, one piece of the puzzle that keeps flying out of our hands is the one that will drive you to anger and, in her case, hopelessness. What was it all for anyway?
Of course she was depressed. Lots of people struggle with feeling lost and hopeless, but in Lindsay’s case, she believed she was disappearing because everyone’s needs had to come before hers. Unless, of course, she could get rid of the child, the one making the picture not perfect. But how could she just kill him? No, she’d have to kill them all and then kill herself, or at least make it look like she tried.
She wanted to terrorize her husband. And terrorize she did. The screams haven’t been heard by the watchers, all of those paying close attention to the trial at home. Only those in the room and the jury heard the husband’s anguished cries upon coming home and seeing his dead babies.
I studiously avoided the Lindsay Clancy trial. It was like those animal abuse videos you scroll quickly by or at least fast-forward to the inevitable happy ending, if there is one. I did not want to get inside this story or put the images of those poor, sweet children strangled one by one in my head.
But eventually, like everyone else, I had to pay attention to it. There were so many crazy women — mostly on the Left but some on the Right — who have stood alongside Lindsay, sympathized with her, celebrated her, attempted to say she wasn’t guilty, that her husband did it, the drugs did it, the doctors did it, everyone but Lindsay herself.
There is such a thing as post-partum depression, which can often lead to feelings of sadness and helplessness after the birth of the child. No one can or should tell a woman she isn’t suffering from it, but it’s also taken on a new meaning in our modern age, a thing that happens to women that they can’t control, separating us from our natural selves. A tragedy waiting for them on the other end of the line.
We don’t live in a society that wants us to care about the little life conceived. We live in a society that wants mothers to be victims and martyrs - not only their babies, but their husbands or men in general- are doing something bad to them. The baby grows and changes everything. The man injects the sperm. The woman must be the helpless, passive participant who takes care of everything.
That might not have been Lindsay Clancy, but her careful planning of how her husband would find his children and his wife by the time he came home required pre-meditation. She knew what those exercise bands could do, because, of course, she did. She worked out every day.
Did she think of what those bands would do every time she picked one up and felt the tension in her hands? What could this do to a child’s neck? How long would it take?
The Long Day
It was an ordinary day like any other. She’d taken her daughter to the doctor and texted Patrick, her husband, a photo of their daughter on the day she would murder her.
He texted her back a photo of Dawson, who had dressed himself for the first time. Did she think and wonder how Dawson could be so much better behaved with Daddy?
Lindsay came home with Cora, who was having stomach problems. She probably was picking up the stress of her mother’s bizarre flatness for some time before the murders. She was the oldest. She would know something was wrong.
Patrick went to work in his basement office as their smallest baby, Callan, went down for a nap. Lindsay built a snowman with Dawson and Cora. Did Dawson give her his usual trouble? Did he say something bad to her? Or was she planning this day all along?
By the time she got inside, she put her plan in motion. She texted her husband at 4:53 pm, “Any chance you want to do takeout from ThreeV … I didn’t cook anything … It’s been a long day.” She checked the map to see how long it would take him, and it wasn’t long enough, so she asked him to go to the drug store to pick up medicine for Cora.
At 5:15 Patrick left, after kissing his daughter Cora and rocking his baby Callan, and said, “I’ll be right back.” That would be the last time he saw them alive. He’d be home by 6:09 pm and arrive to an absolutely quiet house.
Lindsey wanted him to call out for her and his children. She probably knew he’d go upstairs next. Maybe she thought he would just go to the basement and find his dead babies, with Dawson lying dead in his office.
cBut he didn’t. He tried to find Lindsay. And when he saw the blood and the window and ran down to her where she was still alive, because of course she was, and asked her, “What did you do?” She said, “I tried to kill myself.”
All Lindsay said when he asked where the children were was, “They’re in the basement.” She wanted him to see that horror. Why?
Who does that? A psychopath does that. Not a woman suffering from post-partum depression. Not a woman in a state of confusion. No, a cold-blooded killer makes these choices to stage an event that would leave her children dead and herself barely alive but alive. A nurse who didn’t know how to properly cut her wrists or her throat?
She wanted to punish her husband. She wanted to punish everyone. She wanted to be free. She just didn’t think that would mean being in a wheelchair for the rest of her life. That was the unintended consequence of her plan.
The jury was excused for the weekend. I don’t expect this jury in Massachusetts, comprised mostly of women, will convict Lindsay Clancy of murder. That’s what she deserved. No, she’ll get off easier as some version of Not Guilty by reason of insanity. And that will be a lie.
Coming up, Part Two: The Sycophants

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The Democrats are just now waking up to a viral video of Hasan Piker singing We Are Charlie Kirk to a cacophony of cheers from the clapping seals in the sociopathic dehumanization factory known as the New Left.
Why do they believe they are morally superior to the working-class Trump voters? Because the legacy media props them up and never calls them out. Well, now, they have a bad case of Hasan Piker, and as long as they stand with him, they will have to excuse the idiotic things he says and does, like wearing a Mao costume and mocking the grief of the Right after Charlie’s brutal murder.
Not many Democrats will take that moral stand against Piker. They’re too afraid to look uncool, un-manly, and lose all of his millions of followers. And besides, they will say, Trump is “just as bad.”
Trump mocked the deaths of his enemies, but Charlie Kirk was not Hasan Piker’s enemy. Maybe he’s jealous of the love millions had for Charlie - real love, not the kind Hasan Piker has, his sycophants begging him to be more sadistic, not just to his dog.
These are dark and disturbed people.
We are now approaching the one-year anniversary of the brutal, bloody, premeditated, calculated murder of Charlie Kirk by a guy whose desire to become a somebody drove him to become a hero for a day. Maybe he did it for his confused and anguished lover who could not decide on his gender identity.
Maybe he did it for the pathologically insane furry community on Discord. Maybe he was whipped into a frenzy and aimed at Charlie by, oh, I don’t know, the CIA or the FBI. They’ve done worse. Israel, however, it was not.
That didn’t stop craven psychopath Candace Owens - whom Piker calls his “Queen” - from plundering the grave of her “friend” Charlie. The truth is that he kept her at a distance, needed her to help build Blexit, and then, when she got too crazy, he slowly, carefully backed away.
She blamed Erika for that. She blamed Turning Point. One thing is for sure: she is too much of a narcissist to put the blame where it really belongs, on herself.
Chicks on the Right had an illuminating interview with Andrew Kolvet of Turning Point to clarify just what kind of relationship Charlie really had with Candace and why she’s become a woman scorned.
But if Candace’s exploitation of Charlie’s death dwarfed the Left’s celebrating, Hasan Piker somehow manages to top them all.
What most people who are just waking up to the true evil that is Hasan Piker singing We Are Charlie Kirk don’t know is that just over a month after Charlie’s murder, one of Piker’s putrid streams brought him a tiny bit of internet fame for mocking the song.
Why did he think it was funny? Because he’s a dehumanizing, repulsive shitheel who uses his dog as a prop when he’s not shocking her to keep her in place.
He’s mocking MAGA for listening to and celebrating an AI-generated song that, to date, has over 6 million views.
There were lots of AI songs about Charlie. I even fell for it for a brief moment because I wanted to believe there were people on the Left kind enough, empathetic enough, and generous enough to sing about Charlie. But of course not. It was an empty void, one that AI filled.
And Hasan Piker, puny little cockroach that he is, found it “funny.” You see, he’s trying to outdo 4chan all in the name of selling Communism and Islam. Hey, it’s worth it to sell your soul to take control of America.
He kept dipping back into that bowl because that’s what you do if you are an influencer. You give the people more of what they want, and in his case, it’s sitting on his dog-torturing basement throne, while mocking the working class.
He couldn’t get enough of it. He was like an uncut bull let loose in a field of fertile cows.
On and on it went. He made his name on it. Most of this was done just over a month after the shooting, but he’s continued to use it for the lols, even two months ago.
So it was natural that when he took the stage, he would sing it live, like he was the Rolling Stones, dragging out “Jumping Jack Flash,” or Elvis Costello, singing “Pump It Up” one more time. Yes, he was mocking MAGA, people he deems lower class and beneath his sorry ass, and making fun of how deeply the murder of Charlie Kirk dug into their morale.
Most people don’t exist in the dank, slimy corners of the internet, so they might not know how long Piker has been dragging this story out. What else is he going to do? Talk about healthcare? No, everyone wants to see human suffering, and he’s more than willing to give it. He loves Candace Owens too because water seeks its own level.
But it was a serious thing. Even Megyn Kelly once talked about why it mattered that we were saying “We are Charlie Kirk.” We are people the Left wants to see unpersoned at best and dead at worst. But most of all, just to shut up, and that’s what Tyler Robinson did to Charlie Kirk. He silenced him.
The AI song was a way to make something happen that our culture would never have allowed because almost no musician would ever risk their careers like that. Remember when Jamie Lee Curtis offered him some sympathy and was raked over the coals and had to apologize? Yeah, that.
Yes, if you are a sociopath who has bought into the decade-long, systematic campaign against the working class, you would think the AI song was funny, and maybe, a year later, it is kind of. But there was nothing funny about it in November of 2025 when Hasan Piker made his name on it.
Hasan Piker fancies himself a fighter for the poor. He is anything but. He’s a pampered little rich kid who is absolutely a high-status influencer among the ruling class, just like Zohran Mamdani is.
Bernie Sanders never worked a day in his life and was even kicked off a commune for not doing enough work, and by the looks of it, AOC will follow in his footsteps with a lifetime on the people’s dime. They can’t imagine a culture that doesn’t represent them, or that would punish artists for daring to play at the Kennedy Center or to celebrate America’s 250th birthday.
Sorry, Democrats. You’re stuck with a guy who isn’t worthy of even being in the same room with Charlie Kirk, but who once was in the room with Charlie Kirk. That is how emptied out his soul really is.
So no wonder it was so easy for Hasan Piker to mock Charlie Kirk even in death. He must have felt diminished in those debates. Who wouldn’t have? Charlie was smarter, quicker on his feet, and taller. Hasan Piker shines just a little bit brighter now that the brightest light has fallen.
But he’ll never be like Charlie. He’ll never build a movement built on hope and faith. He’ll never change the world. He’ll always be on the outside, with his face pressed up against the glass, enjoying his one brief moment in the spotlight.
And now he’s your problem, Democrats. You can’t wipe off the stain even if you used bleach. Good luck with that.

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