I remember how everything changed after that. It was like society suddenly realized we needed seatbelts because things were spiraling out of control in ways we couldn’t even imagine. 1969, they say, ended the ’60s, but a long decade followed before Ronald Reagan arrived and America was transformed.

But something different is emerging now. It’s not just wild-eyed, crazy women. There’s rising violence. There’s talk of Sharia law. There’s a newly emboldened masculine force filling a vacuum.

The embodiment of both might be Hasan Piker, who has the charisma of Charles Manson and is building a cult of freaks who love how he mocked the death of Charlie Kirk with the song “We Are Charlie Kirk.” In this compilation video of the freaks on TikTok, you can see how often they echo his viral moment.

There is something eerily familiar and unsettling about making fun of a horrific murder that reminds me of the Manson Family, how they slaughtered all of those people and laughed about it. Manson conditioned them to dehumanize their enemies, so killing them was as easy as cutting through a watermelon.

Things have changed. Watching Republicans like Ted Cruz speak of Sharia law and jihad feels like he’s talking about how things used to be, not how they are now, where entire generations don’t even know to be afraid of it.

Back in 2015, radical jihadists burst into the Parisian newspaper Charlie Hebdo and massacred 17 people in all, including those they killed on the street. Why? Because the satirical cartoons mocked Muhammad, and that was, to them, blasphemy worthy of death.

Even though the act of terrorism was condemned widely on the Left and the Right back then, it didn’t become something we talked about. 9/11 was way in the past. It was a new day, and criticizing terrorists was seen as “Islamophobic.” There were even some who sympathized with the terrorists because of their beliefs.

The brats on YouTube celebrating the murder of Charlie Kirk certainly don’t remember Charlie Hebdo, the Manson murders, or even 9/11. They’ve been told only to fear Donald Trump for most of their young lives.

They were raised to believe that this country’s racist infestation prevents all of their sacred groups from fair representation. They run around saying “Queers for Palestine” and acting like Islam isn’t a backward religion that oppresses speech, women’s rights, and barely educates young people. Not every country, of course, but enough of them to pay attention to what might happen here.

I just wonder, did you ever think it would come to this? I didn’t. I remember the vacant, zombie-like stare of the Manson girls and I thought I’d never see it again. Until now.

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.

A reader writes to ask me this:

I have been reading your columns for years, and, for the most part, have agreed with what you have written. But, in this case,-if I understand correctly what you seemed to imply-I couldn’t disagree more with what you have written.

It seems to me that you are being sympathetic to both the illegal criminal invaders as well as people who have medical issues.

Please tell me if I have misunderstood what you wrote about these two groups.

I have always believed in being honest about what I think, even if it makes people mad. I am a former lifelong liberal Democrat. I still feel like an old-school liberal in my heart because my choice to leave my party and flip to the Right was never about policy.

I sympathize with people like this reader and others on the Right who have every reason to be angry about illegal immigration and Obamacare. I’m just telling you where I used to stand on the issue and how some of these things still nag at me sometimes, even if I have changed politically. I have never said I was a Conservative.

I am voting as a registered Republican now and plan on doing so for the rest of my life. At the same time, I grew up in Southern California, where Hispanics or immigrants (illegal or otherwise) are the economic backbone. They work in the fields, as nannies, cleaning hotels, cleaning houses, working as gardeners, etc. This has been true my entire life.

But my brother, who is a contractor, told me that he voted for Trump in 2016 because he was being outbid on jobs by illegal immigrants who could offer prices he could not match. That was the first time I began to change my mind on illegal immigration. Now, I am opposed to it and in support of mass deportation.

But a part of me will always feel sympathy for the people I know who have been here for decades. I can't turn off that part of my emotions. I guess I’m just not built that way. I am staunchly opposed to what the Democrats have done with illegal immigration in the Biden era; however, I will continue to support the Republicans.

As far as the healthcare question goes, as I said, I am torn on that question, and I know, as a former Liberal growing up without healthcare, that was the main reason I always knew I’d never vote Republican. So it’s something to think about.

That said, I understand I can’t please everyone all of the time. I lose subscribers every day over something I write that they don’t like. They get angry sometimes, especially paying customers (about 10%). So I would never force anyone to stay subscribed if they don’t like what I write.

And I wish you well.

If you do wish to unsubscribe, you can do that here:

Day One:

Day Two:

I’ve been thinking about my values lately. As someone who writes for a Conservative audience (mostly), I don’t feel the need to write about the things that still matter to me as a former Liberal. I do still care about the National Parks and worry that too much Republican control will take us too far in eliminating the natural world, whether they will or not.

I am someone who had my healthcare bill rise after the cuts the Republicans made, and once you give people something, like lower costs for healthcare, and then you take it back, you set yourself up for disaster (in my opinion). I have a friend with an extremely disabled child, and the cuts to healthcare have put her and her family in jeopardy. Sooner or later, Americans will get sick of the struggle to pay the bills, and they will opt for the lure of Medicare for All (Over the World).

How do I feel about that? It sucks. I didn’t have any healthcare for most of my life because I didn’t have regular employment. I wasn’t married, and once I built my business, there was no way for someone like me to pay out of pocket for healthcare, but Obamacare changed all of that. Perfect? No, but better than $14K in bills for an ER visit to check my heart.

While I don’t like unchecked immigration and I worry about what ideology we’re bringing over, especially lately, I am sympathetic to the hard-working migrants I’ve grown up with here in California who are the backbone of our economy. Why are so many still illegal? I don’t know, but I know several people who are, as we speak, hiding from ICE and have been here a long time. I also know, in most cases, getting deported is not being sent to labor camps and later gassed.

I don’t support making abortion illegal, but I also don’t support what has become of the Democrats now — this grotesque dehumanizing of babies and children. One million abortions a year? Something has to change.

I am a voter who could be persuaded to flip back to Team Blue until I remember what they are, what has become of the party, and what the real dangers are. At heart, they are totalitarians.

They have changed nothing. They are still pushing a “conform-or-else” policy with “gender-affirming care” and biological men playing in women’s sports. I hate that I even have to write that sentence. I will not vote for a political party that believes it’s okay to sterilize children without their consent, full stop.

That is still one of the biggest reasons I won’t vote for them, and everything else matters less to me, even if it still matters. But we must also think about a political party that believes half the country has no right to representation and should be exiled. They are unable and unwilling to accept an America that does not want to be told what to think, what to believe, how to speak, what defines art, what defines biology.

They believe it’s more than okay to destroy someone like me for the crime of dissent, and, by the way, they don’t even think there is any punishment. They think it’s all made up. Cancel culture doesn’t exist. Except that it does. We saw what happened when Joe Biden took power. We saw how they became all too willing to police thought and speech. We can’t let them take power right now, with so much of our future in this Fourth Turning at stake.

This is just to say that even if you are angry at or hate Donald Trump, even if you struggle to pay bills now, even if you are inclined to sit this one out because of the war in Iran or Israel or whatever else — please don’t. Trump might be an imperfect Gray Champion, but he’s as good as it’s ever going to get for the Right right now. Maybe in decades, a new movement can be born. But understand where we are in history.

This is a Fourth Turning. The last one was the Great Depression and World War II. We are facing down another moment like the moment when Herbert Hoover was so unpopular, FDR reigned for the next four terms, and the New Deal forever transformed America (leaving out Black Americans, it must be said).

What we’re looking at now is the New Deal on steroids. I wouldn’t be so opposed to it if it didn’t go along with totalitarian control of thought and speech, of art and information, and most importantly, of AI.

I will be writing more about AI in a bit, but suffice it to say, you don’t want AI to be in the hands of totalitarians. Do not let that happen. I will be doing everything I can to keep the Republicans in power until such time as the Democratic Party frees itself from the fanatical, totalitarian cult that has overtaken it.

It will be political malpractice if the Republicans do not call out the DSA and “Medicare for All” candidates if they don’t point out that they are also promising to “abolish ICE.” They not only want universal amnesty for those already here, but they do not want to police the border at all.

Bernie Sanders used to understand that if you wanted socialized medicine, you had to have a secure border. In Communist countries, it’s even more extreme because they do not expect the whole system to work and pay for those who do not live in the country.

When YouTuber Itchy Boots traveled through China, she was told that if she had a map with a different color for Taiwan on it, she’d be immediately deported and banned from entering the country for 5 years. That’s how strict they are.

True, many Western countries aren’t policing their borders now, but that’s their problem. If American citizens are expected to pay for Medicare for All, then the first thing the government must do is secure the border. Do we really think the Democrats have any plans to do that?

This is money left on the table for the Republicans. They’re just ignoring the inherent contradiction in the policies they’re selling. They still support open borders. Anyone who comes here illegally will be eligible for Medicare for All, Worldwide.

The ad writes itself. I made it in a couple of seconds in CapCut.

The “affordability crisis” will hit the Republicans hard. The Democrats will be seducing voters with the lie that financial relief is just a vote away. But in fact, they are not being honest about what they’re selling. This is hardly “money in your pocket” if you’re paying for millions of people from all over the world.

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.

I was no longer someone they trusted or even liked. I remember a friend from high school who later became a singer-songwriter and was fully consumed by the “white fragility” madness of 2020. She wrote an entire album called A White Album about her guilt over being white.

She lives in a town that is 96% white. She held a concert at her house, with an all-white audience listening to songs from The White Album. I thought it was funny and made a typical joke on Twitter (before it became X) that didn’t land. She told me I was mean and that I’d changed. We haven’t really spoken since.

Almost everyone I knew on Facebook for the past decade has become a stranger to me. I know the people I see around my town would not want to be my friend if they knew I voted for Trump.

My choice was to stay true to what I believed was worth fighting for, or stay silent to preserve my place on the Left and my friendships. No one should be asked to do that. I believe it shows weakness of character to abandon friends over politics. And yet, here we are.

So when JD Vance was pressured to either end his friendship with Tucker Carlson or make clear that he did not agree with Tucker’s attacks on Trump, it felt eerily familiar. Is this the same thing working in the opposite direction? Is JD Vance now supposed to do to Tucker Carlson what so many people I knew and trusted have done to me?

JD’s response when asked was simply this:

JD Vance won’t sell Tucker down the river. Megyn Kelly won’t sell Candace Owens down the river. That means we have a massive divide on the Right that could cost the GOP the midterms. The losses are many. The gains are few.

Chicks on the Right had a strong rundown, including some of the best dissenting views. Their point is that they don’t care about the friendship. They worry about Tucker’s influence. If JD Vance can’t even stand up to him, how can he possibly be president? At what cost? Tucker ended his friendship with Trump over Israel. Would he do the same with JD?

The full video is here, but here’s the clip.

But here’s the thing. The stakes could not be higher. According to Mark Halperin, the GOP has already lost the midterms because it has not done what it needed to do to pull ahead. He is predicting a blue wave and thinks it might be a “blue tsunami.” At least half the reason is the lack of enthusiasm in the MAGA base and among independent voters.

Nearly one year after Charlie Kirk’s death, the coalition he worked so hard to build seems to be falling apart. Candace Owens has plundered his grave for clicks. Podcasters who advocated for Trump—Megyn Kelly, Theo Von, and Joe Rogan—have vanished over Israel. Marjorie Taylor Greene and Thomas Massie are trying to burn the house down and hand power to the Left.

Tucker Carlson has said he wouldn’t vote for Mike Rogers with a “gun to his head” and is now openly suggesting voters choose Abdul El-Sayed instead.

If JD Vance continues to protect his friendship with Tucker, Democrats can easily exploit this later. I had readers unsubscribe just for posting Tucker videos. I can’t imagine what voters will do.

On the other hand, if someone else runs for the nomination—Marco Rubio or Ron DeSantis—Charlie's coalition will not show up. That is the Right’s quandary, on top of everything else going against them.

Just so people on the Right understand what this means: the upcoming midterms and 2028 could be FDR’s New Deal on steroids. If Democrats take both houses, they will not hold back—not just on this country, but on all of you. Even now they ask, “What will we do with all of these Trump voters?”

You should be very afraid of what they will do. Very, very afraid.

The judge has declared a mistrial in the Lindsay Clancy case. I’m writing a much longer podcast on the women — the crazy, crazy women — but I’d also like to lay out the case as I see it and why I am grateful to the one juror who stood against the 11 and led to the mistrial. I watched every minute of this trial, all those weeks of testimony and seven days of deliberations, and if I were on the jury, I would have joined him.

The whole thing played out in dramatic fashion, with the defense attorney, Big Red Reddington, attempting to bully the lone juror and even appealing an emergency stay with the Supreme Judicial Court. That failed. The jury was deadlocked, reportedly 11-1, and the judge declared a mistrial.

This trial has consumed a lot of the country and set in motion a scenario very much like the OJ trial, which I sat through in the same way. I remember what it was like in Los Angeles when he was found Not Guilty and how half of the city celebrated while the other half was left shaken. He got away with murder.

Now, it seems to me that the whole thing has reversed itself and for a minute there, it would look like Lindsay Clancy would get away with murder, too. But here we are again, with half of the country seeing her as Not Criminally Responsible and the other half thinking her guilty. I am in the latter camp, and I’ll lay out why I believe that.

There are two civil cases pending for wrongful death and malpractice by both Lindsay and Patrick Clancy. A not-guilty or not-criminally-responsible verdict would go a long way toward helping their case. That is why, I suspect, no one in their two families, including friends, would ever say one bad word against Lindsay.

Moreover, they’ve all forgiven her and settled on her version of events that meant she was spiraling in postpartum psychosis or misdiagnosed and over-medicated. That’s the much easier way to absorb this horrific tragedy, and they’ve all chosen self-preservation over the truth. But that doesn’t mean I have to.

To be found “not criminally responsible,” Lindsay Clancy would have to show that she was not of sound mind at the time of the murders. Yet she had the presence of mind to take her child to the doctor, play with her two older kids in the backyard, build a snowman, send ordinary photos, search for kids’ Miralax and takeout, and then send her husband out on an errand that would last just long enough to kill the kids and maybe herself.

The texts and photos that day were ordinary. Snowman. Kids in the snow. Nothing screaming psychosis to the people receiving them.

To believe she is not criminally responsible means going along with the story that she was in “psychosis” and that’s what drove her to murder her kids. But she knew it was wrong. She knew enough to hide the worst of it from healthcare workers and therapists. She told her mother and her husband some of it, but they did not see it as a serious enough threat to keep her from being left alone with the children. She had been thinking of doing harm for a long time.

The crime itself reveals someone who lined up the necessary factors to commit murder: means (the basement, the exercise bands), the opportunity (sending Patrick out of the house), and the motive. That’s the harder part, but I think I know the direction of the answer.

I would bet somewhere in her past, or in the gap between the mother she wanted to be and the mother she felt she was becoming, lies the missing piece. Something that explains why she wanted to harm her children. But no one dared to press that at trial, lest they hurt her case or the two pending civil cases.

She had seven days in the hospital before she really started talking. She did not speak much at first. She was left alone with her thoughts. Then a chaplain visited after those seven days, and Lindsay said she was glad her children were safe. The chaplain said, yes, they’re with God in Heaven.

They prayed together, and Lindsay supposedly said something about a voice ordering her to do bad things. She never laid it all out fully until later, when she got Patrick on the phone and then told the psychiatrist.

So what was Lindsay’s motive? Look at her background, from Grok:

A lifelong athlete. Competitive cheerleader. Gymnast. Powderpuff football. Volleyball. Long-distance runner. Her legs and her body were everything to her, even though she said her lifelong dream was to become a mother.

Motherhood was the one thing Lindsay Clancy could not master the way she mastered everything else. She was successful at what she tried. Biology degree from Quinnipiac. Nursing school. Labor and delivery nurse. Then she met Patrick, married him, and had three beautiful children.

Biology degree, athlete, nurse and she doesn’t know how to kill herself? That is what we’re expected to believe about this case; meanwhile, her precision in murdering her own children made her look like a professional assassin.

Why she spiraled

Things began to go wrong when she started to sleep-train her third baby, Callan. She had been following the attachment-parenting method: hold the baby when he cries, breastfeed, keep him close. That’s what she believed was best. Then she forced herself to let the baby “cry it out.”

Her older son Dawson was, in her own words, the “most difficult human” she had ever encountered. Her oldest, Cora, had health problems that required constant attention.

She couldn’t do the job she wanted to be the best at, and it was causing her depression, anger, resentment, and suicidal and homicidal thoughts. She concealed the worst of those thoughts because she knew her kids could be taken away from her and her failure as a parent would be exposed.

At every turn, she avoided doing the one thing she could have done to save her kids: telling a healthcare worker, removing herself from children’s care. Why didn’t she? Because she wanted the problem to go away. Killing the children covers up the bigger crime in her mind: her failure as a mother.

The question is not whether Lindsay Clancy was insane. Lots of, if not most, murderers are in some sense insane. The question is whether she knew what she was doing was wrong and whether she could have stopped herself, and the answer to both is an unequivocal yes.

Charles Manson, Ted Bundy, and many of the mothers who have killed their kids have been convicted because they knew the difference between right and wrong. Lindsay Clancy did too. She showed this many times: concealing the truth about her homicidal thoughts, deceiving Patrick about why he needed to leave the house, and systematically murdering her children one by one.

It didn’t just happen one day because she snapped. She thought about it. She planned it. And she coldly executed her plan. Even after she was lying in the hospital, she wasn’t screaming for her babies. She wasn’t asking where they were, because she already knew. She left them to die cold and alone, face down on the basement floor.

What is terrifying is how we’ve suddenly and dramatically turned a corner, and now someone like Lindsay Clancy has become a hero to too many. How easy it’s been for us as a society to slip comfortably into the idea that drugs made her do it, her hormones made her do it, the bad therapy made her do it, and even her husband made her do it — everyone except Lindsay herself is to blame.

The psycho pink ladies on TikTok have accused Patrick Clancy of murder, of sexism, of misogyny, even of molesting his own daughter Cora. But the rest of this story will have to wait for my podcast, Lindsay Clancy — the Psychopath and the Sycophants, which I’ll drop soon.

It’s clear he’s aiming his bid at MAGA voters who are angry about the war in Iran and Israel. That’s my best guess as to why his campaign is taking the approach of bullying Mike Rogers by belittling him and calling him “beta.” The problem is that Rogers is sympathetic, and Abdul looks like a bully.

Who knows the minds of men. Maybe it will work. I don’t know. I left the party of seething, dehumanizing hatred long ago, and to me, it has eliminated the tiny bit of sympathy I had for El-Sayed. I kept thinking, it must be hard to be him running for office in America, but he’s worn even that away.

He’s said disgusting things about JD Vance’s wife Usha, and this is how JD responded:

El-Sayed doesn’t even reference himself as “husband” on his X profile:

I knew JD Vance would before I even clicked on his profile.

Vance has brought Abdul in for a fight because he sees what many of us see. Abdul is a bully, and something doesn’t sit right watching him go after Mike Rogers, a 63-year-old military man. Then again, maybe it does work for male voters.

What probably works less, however, is his relationship with Hasan Piker, a guy he begged to campaign with him and was on his show multiple times that he’s now got some campaign worker telling him to write off as “some Twitch streamer from California.”

Chicks on the Right had a good rundown, Hasan Piker and Abdul El-Sayed begins Minute 54:

That illustrated weakness and cowardice. It’s also just a sleazy move for a guy trying to sell himself as a sweetheart dancing to Taylor Swift.

Poor Hasan Piker. He even started wearing a suit, remaking himself as something more than what a YouTube commenter once called Mao Zapdog. He’s making speeches. He’s advocating. He’s changing the world!

As his star began to rise, even named one of the top creators in 2025:

So too did the vile and repulsive things he’s said throughout his time as “just a Twitch streamer.”

Something must have been really bad in the internal poll numbers because suddenly Abdul El-Sayed wants nothing to do with his pal Hasan. Where once it was sunshine and rainbows:

Now, he’s just some rando on Twitch:

Poor Hasan Piker. Some thanks he gets! I mean, just two years ago he was rolling with AOC:

He was campaigning hard for DSA candidates to win their primaries:

He made phone calls!

He went to Florida!

He sat with giggling women for the New York Times!!

AND!

Bernie Sanders has also thrown Piker under the bus, calling him “just a podcaster.” So one of the biggest influencers and drivers of DSA wins, Hasan Piker, is now “just a podcaster.”

Look at Bernie, lapping up all of Hasan’s millions of young viewers just six months ago:

A year ago!

After Bernie threw Hasan under the bus, poor Hasan Piker tried to process it with a blush and a fake laugh.

Yeah, um, no, guys. Nice try. You can’t use Hasan Piker like that, then throw him under the bus. It’s a bad look. He was, after all, the BFF of the Wicked Witch of the Left, Jennifer Welch.

Hilariously, Hasan Piker whines about how the media cherry-picks things he’s said and doesn’t “talk about the issues,” without realizing what the Left and the Democrats, along with the media and Hollywood, have one to Charlie Kirk.

Welcome to the world of politics, Hasan. It ain’t pretty. Time to toughen up, big guy, or else wear a shock collar and give the clicker to Abdul.

I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, which is why a quick obit on Gloria Steinem is hard. I used to admire her and wanted to follow in her footsteps way back when I saw the world very differently. She was the pretty feminist. The cool one. Fashionable, independent, an icon.

She was indeed all of the things they will say about her now, her legacy firmly intact because she never ruffled the feathers of the keepers of culture: trailblazer, legend, pioneer, activist.

There is no doubt her impact on American history is deep and lasting.

Steinem’s efforts back when she started seemed to be a necessary step toward women's rights in dire circumstances. Illegal abortions led to unimaginable horrors, like baby farms where children starved, were beaten, mistreated, and killed. Women dumped their babies because they had no husbands, no welfare, no way to raise their kids.

My own mother almost died trying to give herself an abortion. My grandmother tried to abort my father but failed. I was taught to believe that children are an obligation and a burden unless you have the perfect life. I would find out later that it isn’t true.

But somewhere along the way, we went from “safe, legal, and rare” to an act of empowerment so casual and widespread it might as well be getting a tattoo. It was never about the baby’s rights because to even think like that made you “one of them,” those bad people on the other side.

My own feelings about abortion have completely reversed. I am not quite ready to write about it, but when I do, I will have to face down my life’s biggest regrets, the beautiful babies that might have been, and my willingness to go along with the feminist lies that brought me to that point, not to mention my own carelessness.

Last year, there were one million abortions, like the year before. One million. How can that possibly be? Because women use abortion as birth control, then pretend it’s all about rape and incest. But we know it isn’t. This is the only right the feminist movement had left, and they are not giving it up.

At some point, feminism had to be sectioned out to make sure everyone was elevated except white women. The more divided women became, the less power they had to protect women, ironically. When it came to standing up for women and girls to play fairly in sports, for instance, icons like Steinem, Jan Fonda, and Hillary Clinton did not have the courage to do so. Instead, they shrank back in fear.

Steinem not only refused to stand up for women to protect themselves in sports and in their private spaces, but she stood firmly in support of biological men playing in women’s sports, even signing a letter in March of 2021 by GLAAD.

Why? Because being called a TERF, like being called a “white feminist,” gets you booted out of utopia. Just look at what happened to JK Rowling.

So it’s hard for me to write about Gloria Steinem in any way that isn’t an indictment of a life that helped take women backward but also turn them into sociopaths who have become disconnected from their vital connection to their own children.

One million abortions because they feel like revenge on “the patriarchy” and an act of rebellion and empowerment. What a time to be alive.

With Lindsay Clancy’s fate still to be determined, thousands of women are online right now, seemingly prepared to wage a new war on the patriarchy: the right to kill even their living children because motherhood is too much of a burden seems to be on the table.

But even so, I don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, so I’ll just say, rest in peace.

I also wanted you to know that I’m working on Part II of the Lindsay Clancy story. I wanted to wait for the verdict, but they’ve been sent home again, and I expect this might be headed for a hung jury. I’m not sure when it will be up, but it will be soon. I’m working on a couple of other pieces as well. I’m not sure when they will be posted.

Also wanted you to know that sometimes your emails to me end up in spam or junk mail, and I don’t find them for a very long time. I do try to read them all and get back to you if I can.

Anyway, you guys are the best. I wanted you to know how grateful I am.

XO

They did not know what it was but they pumped him full of antibiotics, painkillers and steroids. Eventually, they recommended a dermotologist who wanted to see him right away, thinking it was “toxic shock.”

A very nice lady who's been working for 50 years now took one look at him and said, "No, it isn’t that." It’s a thing called Pemphigus, an autoimmune disorder. To confirm, she told me to take him off the steroids to see what happened. His fever immediately returned and so I put him back on it.

Yesterday, I took him back to her. She washed his ears and upped his dose of steroids. I have to put these drops in his ears and give him drugs for two weeks. She said either they come back from it and they can get off the drugs and do fine, or else they will have to remain on drugs the rest of their lives (a mild version).

But this morning, my doggie seemed almost like his old self again. When I first told people on X about it, they all prayed for him. It was one of the kindest things anyone has ever done. I did too. I prayed. My dog Jack was so sick I didn’t even try to put him in the hospital to save him. He was 12. It seemed like it was time to go peacefully. Jasper is only 4.

So of course people will want to know how much it costs. It ain’t cheap. It never is, but certainly not in my area. I applied for and got CARE Credit, which is what you can use for vets. The balance is now 1,728.29. And I’d already spent 1,000 for his first visit.

So yeah, it’s expensive. It could be worse. I once spent $4,000 after my cat ate a ball of thread that wrapped around his intestines. What was the alternative? Let him die? Pet insurance, I suppose, is maybe the way.

He looked pretty good yesterday, and I’m hoping he’ll be back to his growly self soon.

Waking up this morning, I did thank God. And all of you for your kind prayers. Probably some might be thinking, shut up about the dog already. Who wants to look at that? But my doggies are my best pals. I’m that person. It is what it is.

Long live Jasper.

But that was a brief moment of sanity and rational thought, a moment where we could just kind of have an opinion as though we were living in ordinary times. Oh, but how quickly we forget.

It’s been a crushing blow to have come from the side with all of the power to then watch them pull nearly all of American society over to their side and say NO, this is OURS. You can’t HAVE IT.

I still feel shame that I was ever any part of it. Moments like this are a reminder of how that power corrupted a once-mighty movement. Turns out, they don’t really care about “democracy” because they don’t respect the people’s vote.

It’s just another word they’ve co-opted and distorted, thrown on the scrapheap of meaning absolutely nothing, like fascism, racism, dictator, criminal, rapist, felon, genocide. Nothing means what it used to mean, thanks to the totalitarians on the Left.

So when Trump changed the name of some lake most people never think about twice, those with all of the power who believe that everything belongs to them threw their usual fit, and by the end of the weekend, people like me were fully on Trump’s side because look at the alternative.

It was a cavalcade of sanctimony.

In a million years, I’d rather have everything named after America than have to argue about whether biological men have an advantage over biological females.

If it had just been one thing, but it’s been ten years of their so-called “resistance” that has taken them to the most absurd places. They’re like the South before, during, and after the Civil War, clinging to the glory days of old. But also, selling America down the river at every opportunity.

They had all the power, and they still have enough to pressure Apple into not acknowledging Lake America. They can’t risk alienating their wealthy white liberal customer base.

Google gave it that name for those of us searching in the US, and for the crybabies in Canada it’s still Lake Ontario. But Google is bigger than most countries. They don’t have to pander.

It’s funny because they don’t seem to realize that each outraged tweet is met with an equal and opposite reaction of MAGA memes. The more flipped out and angry they get, the funnier it is.

Trump always manages to make them look like the stuffy, unfunny, miserable scolds, throwing one temper tantrum after another. They’re like Ted Knight (only not as funny) in Caddyshack, even if they will never know it. Trump is forever Rodney Dangerfield, Bill Murray and Chevy Chase all rolled in one.

They’re just mad because someone else finally gave them a taste of their own medicine. They’re the side that changed almost every word — homeless is “unhoused,” giving away your dog is “rehoming,” mothers are “chestfeeders” and “uterus havers.”

Birthing people, non-binary people, and how many different ways have we changed “Native American”?

Even Bill Maher noticed.

Maybe we’d take them more seriously if they didn’t waste all of their energy on stuff like this. The moral outrage! The mass hysteria. There are more important issues than using all of their power to prevent people from playing the Kennedy Center or pressure Apple into not changing the name of Lake America.

They have put everything they are, everything they do, everything they care about into a war on Donald Trump. They can’t blame those on the other side for loving Trump for giving it right back to them, hand-delivered on a shining gold platter.

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

//

Tip Jar

I found both of them on YouTube, of all places, where Anna runs the Crappy Childhood Fairy, which has rescued me in many dark nights of the soul. And Jenny, of course, is a writer who is saving culture from itself one brilliant monologue at a time.

I just got another email from a reader telling me I was losing business by offering up everything for free, and it’s true. I never intended to use this Substack to make money, but alas, here I am.

I guess I’m still internet old school, and I figure I’d rather have lots of people be able to read what I write. There isn’t a business model for that. I have no advertising, if you notice, and so it really is a kind of nutty thing to do it this way.

I do have a few things I’ll be writing about coming up that I will put behind the paywall, like stuff specifically on The Fourth Turning. AI helped me find my mother’s biological father, and I’m still preparing to write about that, and I might also put that behind the paywall.

I guess, as with crazy Blanche Dubois in A Streetcar Named Desire, I depend on the kindness of strangers, and you all are so very kind. I try hard to give paying readers their money’s worth, though these days money is tight. Lots of people write me and say how much they wish they could buy a subscription, but times are too tough, which I get.

If you do want to become a paid subscriber, or leave a tip, you can do so here. I try to remember to include it in my posts, but I always forget.

I do also have a mailbox, though it lives about two hours away, and it takes me a very long time to get to it, but I do eventually!

4804 Laurel Canyon Blvd. #707
Valley Village, CA 91607

The Substack model is probably going to reach a crisis point eventually. How to pay for all of them? How to read all of them? But for now, just from me to you, a heartfelt thanks.

I will be writing another piece at some point about my doggie Jasper, who is being sent from vets to specialists to find out what could possibly be wrong. They thought it was autoimmune, then they thought it was toxic shock. Now, they’re back to autoimmune. I will update you when he is in the clear. He’s hanging in there.

Working on several podcasts to post soon, including Lindsay Clancy and Abdul El-Sayed on Jesse Waters, Part Six of our Virtual Civil War, and a piece on AI. Too many things happening, not enough time.

Thank you, dear readers. All the love in the world.

She might have fallen off a turnip truck, but she was nobody’s fool. She knew what so few Hollywood folks today know: you want your audience to have access to the dream, too. No one knew that better than Dolly Parton. Her life was a dream, and she wanted to share it with everyone.

Everything she built, made, wrote, or recorded had its roots in the South—in the land of hillbillies and Appalachia—but her arms were open to everyone.

These places are often populated by Trump supporters who have found in him a representative, as unlikely as that may seem. He trudged into the muddy, toxic land of East Palestine, Ohio, and became a hero while the Left was raiding Mar-a-Lago and trying to throw him in jail.

Her life was about bringing joy to everyone, especially those who felt left behind by our culture. She wasn’t going to leave them behind.

The last thing Dolly Parton would want is for her memory to be co-opted and channeled into the firehose of hate that now defines today’s Left.

You might have to be like me—someone who spent a lot of time inside the utopia we all built, so big it included all of Hollywood, most universities and schools, most institutions, and all of culture—and then watched it collapse into a mass-hysteria dystopia to understand that they’re under the spell of a mass delusion. They don’t know who the real Trump is. They probably never will.

It was naive of me to think these unhinged people could share in Dolly’s legacy without their signature hate wrapping around them, the story, and the entire country, dragging everything back down into that dark place. Yes, even someone as lovely as Dolly could not escape the grip of totalitarianism.

“She would hate you,” they hiss.
“She was ONE OF US, not one of YOU!”
“Don’t you DARE mourn her death.”

It’s the Krassensteins. It’s Harry Sisson. It’s all those wild-eyed, crazy women who edge ever so closely to the Manson family.

These are people who demand that no artist play the Kennedy Center. These are people who demand that no one accept the Medal of Freedom if Trump is giving it out. These are people who demand that no artists play at America’s 250. Why wouldn’t they also exploit the death of Dolly Parton?

The Right might be depicted as cruel and hateful to people on the Left, but that’s only because, as with every other powerful word, they’ve co-opted “hate” to mean “against what we believe.” And love, to them, is “everything we say.” So if you oppose transgender ideology being pushed onto kids, that’s “hate.” If you support it, that’s “love.”

Dolly Parton, however, obeyed the rules of an older world where words meant what they meant. Hate means hate. Love means love. But how do we even begin to define it when the little hearts they press express hatred too? Hearts of hate.

This is all they have, all that defines them, all they can offer the American people: hate like us. HATE. But Dolly wasn’t about that. She refused to play along, and she probably did love Donald Trump because she was not a shallow, one-dimensional psychopath. She was able to see the good in people, even if they did not agree with her politics.

The last thing she would want is for her legacy to become yet another political weapon for the people with all the cultural power—people who do not think the other half of the country has a right to participate in any of it. She believed in bringing people together, not driving them apart, especially with music.

Resting in peace would mean her legacy was not just another No Kings protest. Her truck stop was not built only for truckers who agreed with her politics. Her books for children were not woketacular propaganda aimed only at kids who take advantage of Zohran Mamdani’s Parents’ Night Out. She would never have been that shallow, stupid, or cruel. That is why she was exceptional.

At least some folks have the right idea:

Dolly Parton would not have wanted so many people to use her death to wish for Trump’s death instead—to attach her departing spirit to something so dark and ugly. These are people who can’t win elections, so they just want to kill everyone or watch them die.

This is what totalitarianism looks like in practice. To them, everything must be sucked into their black hole of control. They control culture, so unless you are a compliant thought-robot or a true believer, you are not welcome.

It must be exhausting to spend every second of every day twisted up in hate over Donald Trump. What a terrible waste of the last ten years, especially since all they ever had to do was offer people something better. The problem is, they don’t want to talk to them at all, let alone humanize them.

I always come back to the same place. What do they plan to do should the dreaded day arrive, and they’re back in power? What will they do with all the people they want in prison or dead?

I don’t know, but I do know what Dolly would have wanted. She would have wanted people to come together in mourning, in love, and ultimately in the joy she brought to everyone’s life.

What she would want is for people to celebrate her songs and her ideas for all time, no matter who they were, where they came from, or how they voted.

Let her rest in peace.

That’s where you arrive when you’re on the brink of war, and the horrors of it reel us back in and remind us that life is precious. I know when I die, so many people I used to know and work with will be glad I’m gone and will not remember me well. I’m lucky to have so many kind readers here who will mourn. That is a comfort to me.

But I was wondering if there was any person whose death would be mourned by everyone across partisan lines and all over the world, and that person died today.

No one says it better than Trump himself. There will never be another Dolly Parton. She was an angel. She was generous of heart and spirit. She leaves behind a vast legacy of kindness toward all. You can’t say that about many people, but you can say that about her.

She was known for her body, for sure, and that was her trademark. But as a woman who is also well-endowed, I always thought that what that meant to me was pride rather than shame or vanity. Everyone loved her. She was comfortable with how she looked, and even after losing a lot of weight, she maintained her famous assets.

But she was a lot more than that. She lived her life giving to others, whether it was the books she’s been giving to kids for 31 years…

To her charity work, to the truck stops for truckers. She gave back, and her life was defined by giving as much as it was by entertaining.

My favorite song of hers was the one made famous by Whitney Houston:

She came from nothing and became a legend. It’s one of the few times in our modern lives that we will all come together in a shared experience, shared mourning. That’s how special she was and there will never be another.

She will be remembered well. Rest in peace, beautiful Dolly.

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.

____

Leave a tip
Manage subscription