Across the Pond, Legends
A Tribute to Charlie Kirk
Sep
Charlie Kirk – A voice of Reason for Young Minds
Hey everyone, it’s hard to even know where to start with this one. If you’re like me, you’ve spent the last week scrolling through endless feeds, watching the world react to the unimaginable. Sadly, I was on the live stream when it happened, as the debate was set to discuss trans gun violence, a topic close to my heart. I witnessed his assasination live and it is something I will never be able to unsee.
Charlie Kirk, gone at 31, gunned down at the start of a speaking event in Utah. It hits like a freight train, doesn’t it? One minute, he’s there, that trademark smile flashing as he debates some wide-eyed student about freedom or faith or the future, and the next… silence.
Evil Reactions
I won’t sugarcoat it, the reactions to Kirk’s assassination have been a mess. Heartfelt tributes from young and old alike filled site like X, Instagram and Facebook. Moving videos detailing how his debates changed lives as well as minds went up worldwide. And then, the other side, snide posts, gleeful memes, accusations flying like shrapnel. “Racist.” “Homophobic.” “Transphobic.” Words weaponized to bury a man before his body was even cold.
I watched in horror, not quite believing what I was seeing. After posting condolences to his family on my own page, I was hit by comment after comment, filled with self righteous, arrogant and utterly misinformed hatred. I was astonished by how many people were unable to separate their political beliefs from their basic human decency. Each and every comment, post and meme making my skin crawl off my body.
The Insanity of the Left
It’s enough to make you sick, to wonder if we’ve lost the plot entirely as a society. But here’s why I’m writing this. . . .
Charlie wasn’t just some talking head or provocateur. He was a force, a thinker, a builder, a guy who saw a generation adrift and said, “Not on my watch.” He deserved better than the hate, and we deserve to remember him for the truth of who he was. Not the caricature the media loves to peddle, but the human who lit a fire under millions of young conservatives and reminded them that standing for something isn’t optional; it’s essential.
The Beginnings of Conservative Activist Charlie Kirk
Let me set the scene. It’s 2012, and a lad from the Chicago suburbs, Arlington Heights, to be precise, is just 18, fresh out of sixth-form age, and already decided uni isn’t for him. Charlie Kirk wasn’t your standard high flyer gunning for the American equivalent of Oxbridge. He was an Eagle Scout, did a stint volunteering on Senator Mark Kirk’s campaign (no relation), and even led a protest over his school canteen hiking cookie prices, pitching it as an example of government overreach for good measure.
As for university? Not a chance. He bailed after one term at Harper College, convinced the real indoctrination was happening in those lecture halls, not just in the places conservatives were always moaning about.
What is Turning Point USA?
With a little seed money from a Tea Party mentor named Bill Montgomery, he co-founds Turning Point USA. The mission? Simple but audacious: Flip the script on campuses, where kids were being fed a steady diet of progressive orthodoxy, and show them there’s another way. Fiscal responsibility. Limited government. Free markets. And yeah, unapologetic American pride.
From those humble beginnings, TPUSA exploded. What started as a handful of chapters ballooned into over 900 on high school and college campuses across the country. Charlie wasn’t just organising bake sales or voter drives, he was building an army. Remember those “Change My Mind” tables? The ones where he’d plop down with a sign and a folding chair, inviting anyone, including teachers and professors, to come at him with their best shot?
His tours, the “You’re Being Brainwashed” bus that racked up two billion social media posts about Charlie in 2024 alone, weren’t just stunts. They were lifelines for kids feeling alienated in their own schools.
By the time Trump rolled around in 2016, Charlie had already primed the pump. He rallied young voters, organized get-out-the-vote ops that flipped swing states, and even advised on Cabinet picks post-election. Trump called him “legendary” for a reason: No one understood the heart of America’s youth like Charlie. He shifted the youth vote 10 points toward Republicans by 2024, a feat that helped seal the deal in the biggest political comeback we’ve ever seen.
Genius
It was genius. Raw, unfiltered debate in the heart of enemy territory. No panels, no moderators, just ideas clashing like swords. Kids walked away changed, not brainwashed, but challenged. And suddenly, being conservative didn’t mean hiding in the dorms, it meant showing up, speaking up, owning the room.
That’s the Charlie I want you to see first. Not the villain in someone else’s narrative, but the guy who made conservatism cool for Gen Z. Before Trump, before MAGA went mainstream, Charlie was out there proving that young people craved substance over slogans. He understood something profound, in a world of echo chambers and algorithms, real connection happens face-to-face.
His tours, the “You’re Being Brainwashed” bus that racked up two billion social media posts about Charlie in 2024 alone, weren’t just stunts. They were lifelines for kids feeling alienated in their own schools.
By the time Trump rolled around in 2016, Charlie had already primed the pump. He rallied young voters, organized get-out-the-vote ops that flipped swing states, and even advised on Cabinet picks post-election. Trump called him “legendary” for a reason: No one understood the heart of America’s youth like Charlie Kirk. He shifted the youth vote 10 points toward Republicans by 2024, a feat that helped seal the deal in the biggest political comeback we’ve ever seen.
After the Political Assassination of Charlie Kirk
Let’s not kid ourselves, this blog post wouldn’t be honest if I didn’t tackle the elephant in the room. The hate. Oh man, the hate poured out like a flood after September 10th. Social media lit up with clips, most of which taken out of context, and pure hate speech. Charlie calling George Floyd a “scumbag,” denying systemic racism, blasting “white privilege” as a racist myth. Accusations of homophobia for his traditional views on marriage, one man, one woman, and transphobia for pushing back against what he saw as the erasure of biological reality in sports or bathrooms. Islamophobia for critiquing radical elements in the faith. Misogyny for telling women to “submit” in marriage or ditching feminism. And yeah, some of it stings if you’re coming from the left as these views go against the left wing narrative.
Look, I get why it lands that way. In our hyper-polarized age, nuance is the first casualty. A soundbite gets clipped, context stripped, and boom, you’re the monster under the bed. But let’s pump the brakes and actually listen to the man. Charlie wasn’t hating on people, he was hating on ideas that he genuinely believed were destroying lives. Take race for example. He grew up in a suburb where the student body flipped from majority white to majority minority during his school years. He saw first-hand how identity politics pits us against each other, turning neighbours into enemies. Systemic racism? He argued it was a distraction from real solutions, like school choice or economic opportunity, that lift everyone up, regardless of skin colour. He wasn’t denying history’s scars, he was saying the left’s obsession with guilt-tripping white people (that “virus in the brain” nonsense from folks like Van Jones) solves nothing and divides everything.
On LGBTQ issues, same deal. Charlie was a devout Christian, unapologetically so. He believed in biblical truth, marriage as sacred, gender as God-given. But he wasn’t out to stone anyone (despite the twisted clips floating around). In 2019, he straight-up said gay people should be welcome in the conservative movement. He celebrated Trump’s decriminalization of homosexuality abroad as a “monumental achievement.” And trans stuff? He worried about kids being rushed into irreversible decisions, about fairness in women’s sports, not because he hated trans folks, but because he loved protecting the vulnerable. Remember his 2022 podcast? He called out the Supreme Court’s Obergefell decision not as an attack on gays, but as a symptom of a society ditching natural law for “sexual anarchy.” Blunt? Absolutely. Bigoted? Only if you think defending your faith makes you a bigot. This episode is often twisted into Kirk advocating for gays to be stoned, which is completely untrue.
The truth is, Charlie’s “controversies” were often just him refusing to play nice with the cultural overlords. He called out the manosphere’s toxicity when it veered into real hate, distanced himself from white supremacists (even as some tried to latch on), and built bridges with Jewish allies despite ugly antisemitism smears from his own side. Critics like the Southern Poverty Law Centre painted TPUSA as a hotbed of supremacy, but dig deeper: It was about empowering young patriots, Black, white, Latino, Asian, to reject victimhood and embrace agency. He wasn’t perfect, but who is? But he was consistent. In a world that demands you apologise for existing, Charlie said, “No thanks, let’s talk about it.”
And talk he did. Through “The Charlie Kirk Show”, which hit 130 million downloads by 2023, he wasn’t just ranting; he was teaching. Books like “The MAGA Doctrine” and “Campus Battlefield” weren’t fluff, they were blueprints for reclaiming America from the elites. He hosted rockstars like Trump Jr., Kid Rock, even JD Vance (who credits Charlie for launching his Senate run). His AmericaFest rallies? Electric. Tens of thousands of kids, pyrotechnics blazing, leaders like Trump taking the stage. It wasn’t a concert, it was a political revival. Charlie blended faith, freedom, and fun, showing that conservatism isn’t stuffy suits, it’s vibrant, urgent, alive.
Charlie was a Family Man
His personal life? That’s where the legend really shines. Married to Erika Frantzve, a former Miss Arizona and basketball star now pursuing a doctorate in Biblical studies. They had two little ones, a son who turned one in May, a daughter three in August. Charlie doted on them, posting stories of family dinners and theology chats over burgers in NYC, where they had their first date.
He wasn’t all fire and brimstone, he was a dad who paused mid-debate to FaceTime his kids. In his final Instagram from Erika, she quoted Psalm 46:1, “God is our refuge and strength”, a reminder that even legends lean on faith when the world gets heavy.
What still floors me, though, is how that single shot in Utah echoed across the globe, like a modern-day “shot heard round the world,” but for a new generation fighting for truth over tyranny. Charlie’s assassination on September 10th wasn’t just an American tragedy, it ignited a firestorm of solidarity that crossed oceans and borders, proving his message of unapologetic conservatism was universal. Vigils popped up everywhere, from packed streets in Europe to bustling squares in Asia and Australia.
The UK paid Tribute
In London, just days later on September 13th, over 110,000 (according to press reports) people flooded the city for the “Unite the Kingdom” rally, a massive demonstration originally planned as a stand for free speech and against mass immigration, led by British activist Tommy Robinson. I was there, and the atmosphere was electric. Many people bought flags and banners to honour Charlie. With MILLIONS of people on the streets, there were very few incidents.
One such incident was caused by the smelly left chanting “Charlie Kirk is in his box”. The level of disrespect is mind-blowing. But Charlie’s death transformed it into something bigger: a roaring tribute to a fallen brother in the fight. I was there, shoulder to shoulder in that sea of Union Jacks and American flags, the air thick with chants of “Charlie! Charlie!” echoing off Big Ben. Banners with his face waved high, photos of him held aloft like icons, and the crowd observed a haunting minute of silence, broken only by a lone bagpiper playing “Amazing Grace” that left grown men in tears.
It wasn’t planned, but his murder supercharged the energy, speakers like Steve Bannon and even Elon Musk via video link condemned the left’s “party of murder” and hailed Charlie as the spark for a transatlantic awakening. Clashes with counter-protesters and police couldn’t dim the spirit, 26 officers injured, bottles flying, but the message rang clear: We’re not backing down.
The World United in Grief
And it didn’t stop in London. That same weekend, thousands marched in Seoul, South Korea, waving American flags and chanting “We are Charlie Kirk!”. Down under in Australia, Brisbane crowds hoisted “Je Suis Charlie Kirk” signs and “Charlie Lives Matter” placards, while in Sydney’s Hyde Park, speakers demanded their PM’s resignation in his honour, blending anti-immigration fire with tributes to the man who taught them to own their narrative. Back home in the States, of course, Turning Point chapters lit candles from coast to coast, but even the White House got in on it, releasing a stirring video tribute that wove in footage from the London rally, proof that Charlie’s flame had leaped the pond and set the world ablaze. It was raw, it was real, and it showed me up close that this wasn’t just grief, it was galvanization.
A shot meant to silence him only amplified his voice, ringing out around the world as a call to every patriot feeling the squeeze of censorship and cultural erosion. Charlie’s ideas didn’t die in Utah, they multiplied, inspiring rallies that drew millions in total, from Dover’s cliffs where activists unfurled a massive “Unite the Kingdom” flag overlooking the Channel, to viral clips that racked up billions of views. In that moment, standing there amid the roar, I felt it. His legacy wasn’t confined to American soil. It was a global shout, a reminder that freedom’s fight knows no borders.
Pick up the Mic for Charlie Kirk
So why call him one of the most important thinkers of our age? Because Charlie Kirk didn’t just react to the chaos; he anticipated it. He saw a generation glued to screens, starved for meaning, and handed them the tools to fight back. He turned campuses from liberal fortresses into battlegrounds where conservatives could win hearts, not just elections. In an era of cancel culture, he embodied uncancellable conviction. And yeah, he ruffled feathers, that’s what thinkers do. They don’t pander, they provoke.
His death? A gut punch that exposes our rot. Shot by a 22-year-old sniper, Tyler Robinson, mid-debate on mass shootings and trans issues at Utah Valley University. The left’s disinformation flood, Russian bots, Chinese trolls, tried to spin it into more division, but it only highlighted the stakes. Trump ordered flags at half-mast, vowed the Presidential Medal of Freedom posthumously. Erika stepped up as TPUSA’s leader, vowing to carry the torch. And across the right, from Ben Shapiro to everyday activists, the chorus is clear, Charlie’s flame burns brighter now.
Friends, we’re grieving, but we can’t stop here. Charlie’s legacy isn’t a footnote, it’s a call to arms. He showed us that hate thrives in silence, but truth? Truth breaks through. So let’s honour him by doing what he did . . . . . Show up. Speak out. Build something bigger than ourselves. Debate with grace, love with fire, and never, ever back down from the fight. The haters can scream all they want, the legend lives on in every kid he woke up, every vote he flipped, every life he touched, every rally he unwittingly ignited across the globe.
Charlie Kirk wasn’t just important, he was irreplaceable. But in his absence, we’ll become the replacement. For him. For our kids. For the country he loved so fiercely. And for the free world he helped unite.
Rest in power, brother. We’ll take it from here.
The incredible images used in this blog post are a mixture of my own, and those of the insanely talented Gage Skidmore from Surprise, AZ, United States of America.
License link = Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 2.0 Generic
