It was supposed to be a normal Wednesday.

I arrived at work like I usually do. It’s taping day. I need to put in the ads. I need to post some Facebook clips. I have the “4 Minute Buzz” to produce. What stories am I going to discuss? It’s been the same stories for the past couple of days. Maybe I can find something else to discuss. I need to. I wish something would drop. Nothing major, but maybe a Trump executive order announcement. Something interesting.

I also need to run prompter for Glenn Beck’s special. I’m nervous about the delay due to Glenn being remote at his ranch. I know it’s annoying when I’m not fast enough. I need to be better. Man, I wish I didn’t have to run this prompter right now. That was my thought.

You did not destroy his legacy; you ensured that it will never die. Charlie Kirk and his impact will live forever.

And at that moment, I learned. Just as we all did. Charlie Kirk was shot, and it didn’t look good.

And the conservative movement was forever changed. We lost a courageous leader, somebody who spoke the truth and didn’t care. Somebody who used his platform, first and foremost, to share the good news of Jesus Christ. To spread the Great Commission. Somebody who portrayed Christ in every video.

If you examine my writing over the years, you’ll see I’ve been struggling in my faith walk. To be honest, the first legitimate prayers I’ve prayed in years were praying to God that Charlie would pull through. I needed him to make it through this. I’m not sure where I’m at now that those prayers were answered in the way I dreaded.

Because Charlie is me. I saw a post on X that took my breath away. It read:

Charlie was my age. He was a father just like me. He was a Christian just like me. He had no beliefs more extreme than I hold. I can only assume this means they want me dead as well.

Charlie and I were the exact same age. I went home to my son at the end of that horrific day. Charlie didn’t. I held my son, and I cried. I put him to bed, and I wondered: Will I get to see him wake up tomorrow? I may not be the Christian I once was, but I still hold strong to the core beliefs. What Charlie preached, I agree with. He was murdered because of his beliefs.

Who’s next? Is another conservative commentator next? Am I spared because I’m not as commonly known as Charlie Kirk? If they knew me, if they knew I believe everything Charlie believed, would they kill me too?

Looking back, the stress that I had going into the day, everything within me wishes I had dealt with only that. I wish I struggled with what stories to discuss. I wish I had to run prompter. The minor inconveniences of my job, what I dreaded going into the day, I would trade the world to have experienced them. Anything to avoid what happened. I’ll always hate that day.

This loss will resonate forever with the right. This truly is a turning point in American politics and discourse. I pray that Charlie’s atrocious and horrific assassination will only cement Charlie’s legacy forever.

RELATED: ‘Do not go gentle into that good night’: Remembering Charlie Kirk

Photo by PATRICK T. FALLON/AFP via Getty Images

To the coward who took Charlie’s life, who took a woman’s true love and robbed two innocent children of their father: You failed. You did not remove his voice; you amplified it. You did not destroy his legacy; you ensured that it will never die. Charlie Kirk and his impact will live forever.

I’m telling myself this now, and I urge readers: Go to church. Get healthy. Start a family, or continue your family. Charlie stood on principle, and the least we could do is to ensure that his passion lives on for generations.

We owe that to him. His legacy must continue. This will be a turning point. Let’s make it a good one.

​Opinion & analysis, Opinion, Charlie kirk, Charlie kirk assassination attempt, Charlie kirk assassination 

You’ve never seen a resume quite like Kaizen Asiedu’s. He’s a Harvard philosophy graduate with an Emmy-winning career at Riot Games, who’s been publicly endorsed by Elon Musk as a “clear thinker.” After years in the e-sports industry, Asiedu left his impressive role as an architect at League of Legends to pursue life coaching.

And then quite by accident, he transitioned into the political arena when he spoke out on July 13, 2024, about President Trump’s near assassination. Even though Asiedu was a centrist who usually voted liberal or just avoided politics altogether, watching Trump narrowly avoid death was “a spiritual experience,” he tells BlazeTV host Nicole Shanahan.

“When I saw him get shot and get up and put his fist up, it was like the center of my chest just jumped out of me,” he says.

“I just thought if humanity has gotten to the point where people, regardless of who shot him and why … are trying to kill one another over politics, we’ve gone too far and I need to say something.”

He made a video responding to the horrific act of violence — a “message of basic humanity,” he calls it — and it instantly went viral. Without really meaning to, Asiedu launched himself into the political sphere, where he’s since become well known for his nonpartisan approach to teaching people how to engage with politics and social issues in a way that bridges the fiery chasm that’s formed between the right and the left.

On a recent episode of “Back to the People,” Asiedu shared some of his philosophy.

“There’s just so much media manipulation and confusion and division that it’s causing people to actually celebrate violence,” he tells Nicole.

“So many of us have checked out of politics or have tried to check out … because [we] felt like there’s no humanity in it anymore. It’s just a bunch of political machinations and games and name calling, and it’s just so distasteful because politics is really supposed to just be the software upon which civilization operates. It’s not supposed to be this all-consuming thing,” he explains.

There’s a huge population in the country, he says, that doesn’t want any part of the political warring, smoke and mirrors, pandering, or media bias that’s come to define modern politics. Instead, they crave unfiltered truth and respectful discourse among people with opposing views.

“People still underestimate how many of us want that. It’s just buried under layers of extremity and the loudest voices dominating the room,” says Asiedu.

“I want realness. I want authenticity. I want people who say what they believe, even if I don’t like it because that’s how we actually can get to the point where we battle these ideas out in the public square and we come up with the best solutions,” he adds.

The other thing we need to do is “treat the truth as an inherent virtue.”

“We’re afraid that saying the truth makes us come across as judgmental. It’s like if we say, ‘Hey, a homeless person shouldn’t be able to just live on the street or be in a public park or harass people,’ then that means we’re not compassionate. It’s like, no, actually, we can be compassionate and still want boundaries,” says Asiedu.

He explains that even though much of the social media censorship that barred Americans from speaking freely during the pandemic has lightened, “There’s still a cultural suppression of having conversations about narratives that run counter to the idea that America is awful.”

For example, one of the topics Asiedu has been recently covering is slavery. In his videos, he’s been debunking the idea that slavery is a white invention, explaining that it’s “a collective evil that all humans share.”

“The common theme throughout history is not that white people [enslaved] black people … but that people with power abused people who didn’t have power,” he says.

Many have praised him for being brave enough to speak out about the false narrative around slavery, but Asiedu says “pointing out historical facts” shouldn’t have to require bravery.

But sadly, in today’s culture where even facts are considered offensive, it does take guts to speak the truth. “The reason it’s scary is because you get projected upon when you say these things. And then people will call me a race trader or say that I’m tap dancing for white people or whatever. And it’s like, look, actually the reason I’m saying it is because I think the truth is helpful for everyone,” he says.

“It’s cultural software; it’s programming. … There’s American cultural software, there’s black cultural software, there’s white cultural software, and everything in between. The problem is when we become so attached to that software, we can’t actually see people as individuals.”

He explains that for a long time black people were viewed as intellectually inferior, but today, that prejudice is aimed mostly at white people, especially white men, because progressives view them as “morally inferior.”

But this mindset is not only racist, it keeps us entrenched in the past and unable to move in a positive direction. “The only thing you can do is perpetuate the past or you can focus on the future,” says Asiedu.

If we continue to be obsessed with past sins, we will continue cultivating a culture of hatred. And “hatred hurts both the hater and the hated. So when you engage in any form of hatred, it always comes back around on you,” he warns, explaining that racism begets racism. Black resentment from slavery has transferred to white people who are decades removed from it, and that in turn is causing some white people to become racist toward black people again.

“If you keep swinging the pendulum from left to right, everyone gets damaged because hatred just keeps on getting transferred instead of getting healed,” he says.

His solution? We need a common enemy to unite us.

But that enemy “needs to be hatred and division itself,” he says.

To hear more of Asiedu’s insightful commentary, watch the full interview above.

Want more from Nicole Shanahan?

To enjoy more of Nicole’s compelling blend of empathy, curiosity, and enlightenment, subscribe to BlazeTV — the largest multi-platform network of voices who love America, defend the Constitution, and live the American dream.

​Back to the people, Blazetv, Blaze media, Nicole shanahan, Kaizen asiedu, Left vs. right, Political divide, Political division, Trump near assassination 

The United States has been in a civic crisis for decades. It’s not “just about manners,” but the lack of mannerly behavior is a widespread indicator of this problem. And manners are no small thing.

All societies have rules for how we engage with other people in a variety of settings, both formal and informal. Japan has “manners,” just as we do, even though the specific actions the Japanese take to signal good will to other people are different from the specific actions Americans take.

About seven seconds later, he finally offered verbal confirmation that he was aware of my existence: a monotone ‘’Sup.’

In the U.S., especially in Democrat/blue areas, manners are nearly extinct. The death of courtesy is a marker of a much deeper problem:

We no longer prize quality workmanship, functional products, or value for money. We only care about making the cheapest item or importing it from China.Young people (roughly, those under 40) do not believe they owe work in exchange for their salary. They do not believe they owe even eye contact or vocal responses to customers.Companies no longer care about customer service or fulfilling orders correctly because they do not have to care.Americans have no “union,” if you will, of “ordinary consumers” who can exert pressure on big telecom companies or big-box chains. These companies have power because they make things we need, and they know we need them. Because consumers are not organized in a way that can exert leverage, companies do not experience much market punishment or market correction except in outlier cases like the recent kerfuffle over Cracker Barrel’s rebranding.

Best intentions

The story I’m about to tell you is typical and common where I live. This is the normal, everyday, standard experience. Those of you living in heavily blue/Democrat/woke/progressive areas have similar experiences; that’s where the social rot has set in most deeply.

I make a podcast/”TV show” every week. Both high-powered computers that process and transmit video in my home studio were zapped by a power surge. So I had to run to the big-box store to spend north of $2,000 for another computer so my business partner and I can make our show. My business partner ordered and paid online. I went to pick the equipment up. The order included a $2,100 computer and $200 in additional small merchandise like webcams and data cables.

The customer service desk at my local Best Buy had one employee serving another customer. When that customer left, the employee just stood there staring down at his computer. I waited quietly with my hands clasped in front of me. Nothing. He didn’t look up; he didn’t signal that he knew I was there. (I assure you, he did know.)

Gen Z stare

Why did I wait a full minute? Because experience has taught me that most requests for service from an employee are met with bemused detachment or hostility. I thought, “Better to just tolerate this and wait for him to acknowledge me than risk that angry glare because I spoke before I was spoken to.” No customer should have to make these calculations, but today we do.

Still nothing. So I walked a few steps closer. “Noah” (not his real name) looked up at me and gave me the “Gen Z stare,” vacantly gazing at me from behind black chunky glasses that covered half his face. No expression. No change in posture. No greeting. It started to feel uncomfortable.

Noah presented himself in the way that an astonishing number of young staff do today. Noah is the kind of person whose odd and slovenly appearance would have kept him from being employed at all when I was his age (about 20).

He was morbidly obese, as so many people are, but it wasn’t just that — I’m not making fun of fat people. It’s that he wore a skintight shirt that accentuated every curve, including — I’m sorry to write this — his breasts. I’m carrying 30 extra pounds myself, and I don’t walk around in Lycra stretch fabric inviting people to partake visually of every detail of my anatomy. But this is the “new normal” in public for employees today.

First contact

About seven seconds later, he finally offered verbal confirmation that he was aware of my existence: a monotone “’Sup.”

I saw my opening and took it. “Hi, there. I’m here to pick up an order that my friend placed online and paid for. I’m having a little trouble pulling up the receipt on my phone, so would you like me —”

“Bar code,” he interrupted me.

That’s what he said. Just the two-word phrase “bar code.” Was it a question? A command? A password challenge for access to a secret, actually helpful, customer service counter?

“I’m not sure what you mean by bar code,” I responded. “But if that’s something included in the email, again, I’m having trouble pulling it up. Can I give you some other kind of information that would help?”

Smooth customer

I am polite when I do business in public. I maintain a warm tone of voice. A dozen years as a waiter and bartender, a few years in retail, plus two decades counseling grieving people by phone trained me in how to smoothly communicate with anyone, including people who are upset. I know how rude customers can be, so I take care to be friendly and approachable when I’m a customer.

All that to say, I was actively nice to this young man. I’m polite to every staff member of a business I patronize. Far too often, I get nothing back at all, or I get hostility, as I did last night.

“What’s your name?” Noah demanded. I told him.

Staring down at his iPad, he walked into the back room. He emerged carrying two small boxes containing the cables and the webcam. He did not have the computer. He placed the boxes on the counter and continued to look at his iPad without speaking to me or looking at me.

I waited about five seconds before saying, “I think there is more merchandise to this order.”

Notice that I did not say, “You forgot my computer.” I used a gentle, roundabout way to say it because I’ve learned that if you signal that a staffer has made a mistake, they will sometimes melt down.

Noah did not glance up at me. He kept staring at the iPad as he went back to the stock room. He brought out the computer and put all three boxes in my hand. Then, after a few words (I think I heard him say good night in a perfunctory way) he went back behind his counter.

He did not give me a receipt; he did not stamp the boxes to indicate that I had paid for the merchandise. I wondered about this, as the store has a lectern at the exit to stop shoplifters by checking receipts.

Trust fail

Here’s what I didn’t tell you until now: Noah never asked me for a driver’s license or a credit card to prove that I was the Josh Slocum who paid for these items. He made no effort to determine that I was the paying customer, not a thief. What if he had handed it to someone else, and when I arrived, the store told me, “Yes, you did pick these up already because our system says you did”?

At this point, I needed to leave the store to keep my temper. So I just walked out with my merchandise (paid for, but how did they know?). None of the three employees at the shoplifting/receipt-checking lectern at the front glanced at me as I walked by. Two were talking to each other, and the third was running his thumbs over his phone.

This is why we have so much shoplifting. There are no consequences to naked, caught-on-camera thievery.

RELATED: Strange but true tales from a communist childhood

Gilbert Uzan/Getty Images

Punching out

There are certainly no consequences to employees who are incompetent, rude, and who allow expensive merchandise to simply disappear. They do not get fired. Why would they? Do you think a manager in this Best Buy can’t see how these employees fail to do their jobs? She sees what I see. It’s either that she doesn’t care, or those above her don’t care, so she’s just stopped putting in any effort.

What are we going to do? Is there anything we can do? We don’t have market power as consumers, so that’s out. Government regulation usually brings more problems than it solves, so that doesn’t seem like a good way to go. But this cannot go on.

Well, it can, actually. We can become like former Soviet states; hell, we’re already three-quarters of the way there. When I tell stories like these to older people who immigrated from communist countries, they get a pained look and say, “This is what it was like for us, and it’s happening here. But no one will listen to us.”

If you see a way out that I do not see, please share it in the comments.

​Lifestyle, Customer service, Manners, Etiquette, Gen z, Best buy, Soviet union, Retail, Intervention