Let’s Make Heaven Crowded

 

 

 

Sensationalism has been a factor in public information since Helen of Troy. To sweeten the pot is the stock and trade of those seeking to sell a story. Since time immemorial men of good intentions have searched diligently for Atlantis. Romans would swear on their gods and their mother’s grave that Romulus and Remus really nursed at a she-wolf’s teat, and Davy Crockett kilt a bar when he was only three. But there is also a downside. When someone emerges that seems too good to be true there is a contingent out there that will find any reason to diminish the glow of a brief glimmer of light in the sea of humanity. Politics, religion, or jealousy all play into this. As they look upon something that may be an inspiration to others, they project their own shortcomings onto them and try to bring everything back to ground zero.

 

No finer young couple ever existed than Charlie and Erika Kirk. Raising a budding family, providing an example, and spreading the Word to those heretofore following every random wind that blew in on their iPhone. Erika was a beauty queen, and in real estate, and Charlie was an author who frequented college campuses presenting his idea of America, God, and Erika’s apple pie to kids being indoctrinated by sexually confused liberal professors who sided with any abomination that floated up out of California. And the left hated their guts!

 

There should have been no safer ground than a small college in Utah. A state formed by a people fleeing religious persecution. A religion ridiculed by the other “mainstream” denominations. Where young men and women gave up to two years witnessing to people in far away lands about their beliefs. Used to defending their heritage if not their faith. Charlie was among his own. And the kids loved him! It wasn’t the largest crowd ever. But the kids acted like Charlie was a rock star, and he came to their college. Even if he argued them down, by God they got to debate Charlie Kirk! Their little college hosted an event. They were somebody if only for three hours on one afternoon.

 

But God said, “No” that day, and He called Charlie home in front of all the young, freshly scrubbed faces in the crowd. And the world took a breath. While the investigation drags on, in all probability, Charlie Kirk was shot by a homosexual who lived with a shape-shifting trans-sexual before he was on stage for fifteen minutes. A man who was repugnant to all that Charlie stood for. There are many questions about that shot, but that’s not what we are going to discuss today. No, we are going to talk about the many shots after that aimed at Erika Kirk’s heart.

 

I have never seen a sadder scene than a widow clasping her husband’s cold hand as he lay in his coffin while her children stood by her side. Avowing her undying love for him. Heaving huge sighs as she obviously prayed that The Lord would take her, too. It was not AI. It was real. I am not ashamed to admit I cried that day. And like many others, I asked, “Why?”  How could God allow such a thing to happen? And I hated the man who killed him. I hated his boyfriend. I hated the mother who bore him, but mostly I hated the culture that produced him!

 

As I have said before, America of late is proof that God is running short of fire and brimstone because we have it coming. We have allowed the murder of over 65,000,000 unborn children. We have allowed unholy unions to be solemnized in our so-called churches and taught children that they can mutilate themselves and believe that they have changed the very DNA of their body; the body made in God’s image. Drag queens appear for story time in public libraries for infants and our very language is perverted to accommodate people who no longer know who or what they are.

 

It started slowly. Little insinuations that all was not well in the Kirk household. Then an “Elvis” twist that Charlie wasn’t dead at all. That the entire scene was a holographic in order to put Charlie in a protection program. Then President Trump had him shot because Erika was his side hustle. Also, Charlie had discovered that she and Donald had absconded with funds from the Turning Point organization that Charlie had founded. Of course, she was pregnant with Trump’s baby, and she and Charlie had filed for divorce two days before his death.

 

Let’s get some things straight! Charlie did have a following, and Erika did know Donald Trump, but Turning Point  wasn’t big enough news for the President of the United States to plot Charlie’s  murder, and there is absolutely no evidence that The President and Erika had any clandestine rendezvous’! This was dreamed up by some diseased mind that had no problems with two men sleeping together because one of them thinks that he’s an “innie and not an outie. Erika is a girl. She’s a beauty contest winner. Donald Trump used to run a beauty contest. That’s their evidence?

 

No! here’s the evidence. While Charlie was a pretty fair public speaker, he was no Christopher Hitchens. Perhaps he would have been had he been allowed to live. The murder of Charles Kirk was just so dadblamed wrong! It totally exposed the demonic nature of the left. And the world took note. From London to Lisbon thousands marched in anger over the death of this man. Charlie Kirk became larger in death than he ever would have been in life. He was more famous than the Beatles. The Left had sown their own demise.

 

But there’s more. Of course, there are some who are looking for explanations about the shooting. I, myself took exception to the idea that a 30.06 bullet could hit a man in the neck and not take his head off. I still ask that question, but as the “evidence” began to accumulate one esteemed “wired” individual, looking for a story, claimed that Charlie came to her in a dream and told her all about it. And Romulus and Remus sucked Lassie’s tittie! The more things change, the more they stay the same. Then there are the countless accounts of Tyler Robinson breaking weak at a press conference, claiming that he’s a patsy and is in fear for his life. This degenerate has seen the light of day once since he was picked up. Good thing! Because there are men up there who will be more than happy to cause Tinker Bell’s blood to touch the ground so don’t act all surprised if it happens!

 

Do you want to know what’s going to happen. I’ll tell you. Write this down, there’ll be a quiz later.  At some later date Mr. Robinson is going to be strapped to a secretarial chair in the Utah State Correctional Facility in Salt Lake City. Five men, all good and true, four with live .30 caliber rounds in their rifle, and one having a blank, will take steady aim and blow Mr. Robinson half in two. And with all respect to Erika forgiving him, for me when those rifles go off it won’t be sex, but it’ll be damn close!