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The metal world stands silent today, grappling with the devastating loss of Tomas Lindberg, the legendary vocalist of At The Gates, who passed away at 52. His death, following complications from cancer treatment, marks the end of a chapter in heavy music that few thought would close so soon.

Word spread like wildfire through the global metal community yesterday afternoon. Social media feeds, typically filled with tour announcements and album reviews, transformed into an impromptu memorial wall. Between the shock and sadness, a portrait emerged of a man who was so much more than his fearsome stage presence.

“I first met him when he was 15 and I was 18 — just two kids completely dedicated to underground music,” shared Arch Enemy’s Michael Amott, his voice carrying the weight of decades of shared history. The raw honesty in these tributes speaks volumes about Lindberg’s impact on those around him.

His battle with adenoid cystic carcinoma began quietly last December. True to form, Lindberg approached this challenge with characteristic determination — even recording vocals for an upcoming At The Gates album mere hours before major surgery. Such dedication wasn’t surprising to those who knew him; it was simply Tomas being Tomas.

The story of At The Gates — from their 1990 formation in Gothenburg’s frigid winter to the game-changing release of “Slaughter of the Soul” — reads like a masterclass in artistic evolution. But it’s what Lindberg did between tours that truly set him apart. While many rockers chased the spotlight, he found fulfillment teaching social studies to English-speaking students, many of them Muslim immigrants. “They are not into heavy metal music but they think it is cool,” he’d say with that characteristic twinkle in his eye.

Opeth’s Mikael Åkerfeldt captured what many felt but struggled to express: “Tomas, my friend. You were a pioneering musician. A fantastic frontman and singer. A lovely human being! You’ve always had my endless respect.”

The ripples of Lindberg’s influence stretch far beyond Gothenburg’s shores. Modern metalcore owes an immeasurable debt to his pioneering work — a fact acknowledged by countless bands who’ve emerged in the past two decades. As Unearth noted in their tribute, “Without him and At The Gates, metal would not sound the same.”

In an age where authenticity often feels like a marketing buzzword, Lindberg remained refreshingly genuine. Whether screaming his lungs out on stage or discussing literature with his students, he brought the same level of passion and integrity to everything he touched.

Japanese post-rock outfit MONO’s simple yet powerful farewell — “Thank you for the love” — perhaps best encapsulates what made Lindberg special. In a genre often associated with darkness and aggression, he showed that even the most extreme forms of expression can come from a place of genuine human connection.

The metal community has lost more than just a vocalist; we’ve lost a visionary who proved that authenticity and artistic integrity aren’t just buzzwords — they’re a way of life. As spring 2025 approaches, his influence continues to echo through the halls of heavy music, a reminder that true legends never really die.

The music world stands still this week, grappling with the sudden loss of Sidney “Omen” Brown. The Grammy-winning producer — whose sonic fingerprints shaped countless hip-hop and R&B classics — was discovered lifeless in his Harlem apartment. He was just 49.

Word spread quickly through New York’s tight-knit music community after Brown missed his Saturday shift on September 13. His mother, Martha, later confirmed that a worried family member made the heartbreaking discovery. While questions about his passing remain, the void left behind speaks volumes about his impact on modern music.

Brown’s story reads like a classic New York tale — pure Harlem hustle transformed into Grammy gold. Back in the late ’90s, when vinyl was king and digital was just catching fire, his distinctive production style caught Roc-A-Fella Records’ ear. But it wasn’t until 2007, with Ludacris’s “Release Therapy,” that Brown claimed his Grammy — though anyone who knew his work would tell you it was long overdue.

What made Omen special wasn’t just technical brilliance (though he had that in spades). The man had an uncanny ability to shape-shift between genres, leaving his mark everywhere from Drake’s moody “Shut It Down” to that hauntingly beautiful Beyoncé-Drake collaboration “Mine.” His sound became something of a musical passport, crossing boundaries most producers wouldn’t dare approach.

Thing is — and this says everything about who Brown really was — success never changed him. For years, you could find him holding court at Barawine Harlem, a neighborhood wine bar that became his unofficial office. Their Instagram tribute cut straight to the heart: “There are not enough words to express our feelings. Our thoughts and prayers go to his family, his friends and all who love him.”

Down the street at Ethyl’s Bar & Restaurant, where Brown regularly worked his magic behind the turntables, the loss hits just as hard. “Sidney ‘Omen’ Brown was not only a DJ who could get our dance floor jumping, but he was also a Grammy Award Winning Producer,” they shared — perfectly capturing how he straddled both worlds without missing a beat.

Look at his production credits and you’ll find a who’s who of hip-hop royalty. Lil Wayne, Action Bronson, Fabolous, Memphis Bleek, Redman — they all came knocking. Yet Brown remained, at heart, a musician’s producer. Someone who understood that great records aren’t just about technical perfection — they’re about capturing lightning in a bottle.

As the music industry processes this loss, Brown’s legacy echoes through studio monitors and street corners alike. From platinum plaques to packed dance floors in his beloved Harlem, he proved you could touch the stars without losing sight of your roots. And maybe that’s the real measure of the man — not just the hits he crafted, but the path he blazed for others to follow.

The passing of Marilyn Hagerty at age 99 marks the end of an era in American food journalism — one where authenticity trumped pretense, and small-town values stood proudly alongside big-city sophistication. The North Dakota newspaper columnist, who unexpectedly became an internet sensation in 2012, died Tuesday in Grand Forks following complications from a stroke.

Remember that viral Olive Garden review? The one that had food snobs clutching their artisanal pearls? That was Hagerty’s doing, though she’d probably chuckle at how something so ordinary could cause such a stir. Her straightforward assessment of the chain restaurant’s chicken Alfredo as “warm and comforting on a cold day” sparked a social media firestorm that seems almost quaint by today’s standards of manufactured outrage.

Her daughter Gail recalls with touching simplicity how her mother had to ask what “going viral” meant. “She used to say that if you were going to have 15 minutes of fame and if you were 86, you had to do it soon. You couldn’t wait.” There’s something refreshingly honest about that perspective — especially now in 2025, when viral fame seems more calculated than ever.

Perhaps the most surprising twist in Hagerty’s late-career renaissance came from an unlikely corner: Anthony Bourdain. The sharp-tongued culinary rebel, known for skewering mainstream American dining culture, became her unexpected champion. Not only did he defend her against online mockers, but he went on to publish a collection of her columns. Talk about a plot twist worthy of a streaming series.

Born in Pierre, South Dakota, back in 1926, Hagerty’s journalism career started while she was still walking high school hallways. After earning her journalism degree from the University of South Dakota — an achievement that remained a point of pride throughout her life — she devoted more than seven decades to chronicling her community’s story. Her commitment to local journalism feels particularly poignant now, as regional newspapers continue their struggle against digital disruption.

What set Hagerty’s restaurant reviews apart wasn’t sophisticated culinary analysis or trendy food-speak. Rather, she wrote with a practical mindset that’s sorely missing in today’s often overwrought food criticism. “She wanted to tell people what they would expect,” her daughter explained — simple as that.

The famous Olive Garden piece? Dashed off on deadline, probably between other assignments. “I wrote that Eatbeat column so fast one day that I never expected it to be repeated all over the country,” Hagerty admitted in a 2014 interview. Sometimes the best writing happens when we’re not trying to impress anyone.

Her impact on Grand Forks stretched beyond the printed page. In 2002, the city dedicated a lift station in her honor — and true to form, she showed up on the back of a local restaurant owner’s motorcycle. Because why not? She kept writing for the Grand Forks Herald until last year, proving that passion for storytelling doesn’t come with an expiration date.

In an age where hot takes and artificial controversy dominate our feeds, Hagerty’s straightforward approach to journalism feels like a breath of fresh air. Her legacy isn’t just about that viral review or even her impressive seven-decade career — it’s about the value of telling simple truths in a complicated world.

The Great Streaming Wars of 2025 aren’t just heating up — they’re practically scorching. Remember when “cutting the cord” felt revolutionary? Those days seem quaint now, as streaming platforms duke it out in an increasingly crowded digital colosseum.

Nielsen’s latest numbers tell a story that would’ve seemed impossible just a few years back. Streaming services have claimed nearly half the viewing pie at 46.4%, while traditional broadcast TV — once the undisputed heavyweight champion of entertainment — has stumbled below 20% for the first time ever. Talk about a plot twist.

Netflix, that scrappy DVD-by-mail startup turned entertainment juggernaut, isn’t just surviving the onslaught of competitors — it’s thriving. Their recent quartet of hits (“Wednesday,” “KPop Demon Hunters,” “The Hunting Wives,” and “Sullivan’s Crossing”) racked up a mind-boggling 22 billion minutes of viewing time. That’s roughly equivalent to 42,000 years of binge-watching, give or take a few centuries.

But here’s where things get interesting: YouTube’s been quietly working its magic in the background. The platform’s carved out a hefty 13.1% slice of total viewing time — up from 10.6% last year. Kurt Wilms, YouTube’s senior director of product, plays it cool with an understated “It’s still early days, especially with Gen Z.” Sure, Kurt. Whatever you say.

The fall lineup looks absolutely stacked. Apple TV+ is throwing their hat in the ring with Matthew McConaughey’s “The Lost Bus” — a heart-pounding thriller that might just make viewers forget about their streaming subscription costs for a few hours. Netflix, meanwhile, keeps swinging for the fences with Keira Knightley’s maritime thriller “The Woman in Cabin 10.”

Even the House of Mouse is feeling the heat. Disney’s streaming efforts (Disney+ and Hulu combined) are holding steady-ish at 4.6% — down a hair from last year’s 4.7%. Not exactly a magical number for the entertainment giant, but they’re hardly out of tricks yet.

The real story might be the creator-driven revolution that’s reshaping the industry. YouTube’s been preaching this gospel for years, and now traditional media’s finally catching up. As Wilms notes with just a hint of smugness, “YouTube’s always known that creators are the lifeforce of what people want to watch.”

For viewers? It’s a golden age of choice. Prime Video’s serving up “Hedda” with Tessa Thompson bringing Ibsen into the 21st century, while Hulu’s taking another swing at “The Hand That Rocks the Cradle.” The options are endless — almost overwhelmingly so.

There’s something particularly fitting about Prime Video’s “John Candy: I Like Me,” produced by Ryan Reynolds and directed by Colin Hanks. As the industry races forward at breakneck speed, there’s still room to look back and reflect on the giants whose shoulders we’re standing on.

Meanwhile, cable TV continues its slow fade into the sunset, dropping from 26.3% to 22.5% year-over-year. The writing’s not just on the wall — it’s being projected in 4K HDR with Dolby Atmos sound.

The battlefield’s set, the players are ready, and viewers are the real winners. The only question left is: which streaming service will be left standing when the dust settles? Place your bets — but don’t get too comfortable. In this industry, tomorrow’s underdog might be next week’s top dog.

Talk about a power move in the streaming wars. Apple TV+ just flexed its muscles by green-lighting season five of “The Morning Show” before season four even hits the airwaves. That’s the kind of confidence you’d expect from a network sitting on television gold – and with Jennifer Aniston and Reese Witherspoon leading the charge, who could blame them?

The early renewal lands just as season four prepares to make its splash this Wednesday. And darlings, this season’s looking juicier than a tabloid headline during sweeps week. Set against the backdrop of 2024’s media landscape (remember when we thought 2023 was chaotic?), the show dives headfirst into the aftermath of the UBA-NBN merger. Because apparently, one media empire wasn’t dramatic enough.

Matt Cherniss, Apple TV+’s head of programming, called the show “a standout from the very start.” Well, that’s putting it mildly – like saying the Met Gala is just another Monday night party.

The casting department deserves a raise, frankly. They’ve managed to snag both Marion Cotillard and Jeremy Irons – because apparently, this show didn’t have enough acting firepower already. Irons steps in as Aniston’s father, which promises to be the kind of complicated family dynamic that makes “Succession” look like “The Brady Bunch.” Then there’s Boyd Holbrook, channeling some serious Joe Rogan energy as a provocative podcaster. Because what’s morning television without a dash of controversy?

Speaking of our leading ladies… Jennifer Aniston’s Alex Levy continues her reign from what they’re calling a “new perch” – though anyone who’s watched more than five minutes of this show knows that in morning television, today’s throne is tomorrow’s hot seat. Meanwhile, Reese Witherspoon’s Bradley Jackson grapples with her brother’s January 6 involvement. Nothing like a little family drama to spice up those morning segments, right?

The show’s taking an interesting approach to election coverage this time around. Rather than diving straight into the political circus (haven’t we all had enough of that?), showrunner Charlotte Stoudt’s team is “going at it sideways.” They’re asking the questions nobody else dares to touch – like why two older white men were our only options. Again.

What’s particularly refreshing about “The Morning Show” is how it manages to keep viewers glued without relying on dragons, zombies, or whatever CGI creature is trending this week. Sometimes all you need is ambition, betrayal, and hair that somehow stays perfect through three crisis meetings and a breaking news segment.

The ensemble cast reads like a Hollywood dream team – Billy Crudup, Mark Duplass, Jon Hamm. At this point, they might as well rename it “The Star-Studded Show.” Michael Ellenberg, MediaRes CEO, promises the new season gives this “cast and creative team even more room to shine.” More room? They’re already burning brighter than a Times Square billboard.

But perhaps that’s exactly what makes “The Morning Show” Apple TV+’s crown jewel. In a landscape cluttered with predictable plots and recycled storylines, it dares to hold up a mirror to our media-obsessed world – perfectly styled hair and all.

Television’s most prolific producer is serving up another helping of government intrigue, and this time the recipe includes a dash of familiar faces that’s making industry insiders buzz with anticipation.

CBS’s latest venture into the world of acronym-heavy drama, “CIA,” isn’t just another procedural rolling off the Dick Wolf assembly line. The upcoming spinoff has morphed into something of a family reunion for Wolf Entertainment veterans – and the guest list keeps getting more interesting by the minute.

Fresh from turning heads on “Chicago P.D.,” Natalee Linez is stepping into the world of international espionage as Gina Rojas, a CIA analyst who’ll undoubtedly bring more than just intelligence reports to the table. Network insiders whisper that her character might just be the wild card this show needs to distinguish itself from its FBI-branded cousins.

Speaking of distinguished company – Tom Ellis, who spent years making audiences swoon as the devilishly charming Lucifer Morningstar, is trading his piano bar for CIA credentials. He’s joining forces with “Chicago Med” alum Nick Gehlfuss in what sounds like the kind of odd-couple pairing that network executives dream about during their power lunches. Ellis as the maverick CIA officer? Gehlfuss as the straight-laced FBI agent? It’s almost too perfect.

But hold onto your security clearances, because the drama isn’t confined to what’s happening in front of the cameras. The show’s behind-the-scenes shuffle reads like a Hollywood power play. Originally eyeing a fall 2025 premiere (remember when we thought flying cars would be a thing by then?), “CIA” has been pushed to midseason 2026. Warren Leight has stepped in as showrunner, replacing “FBI: Most Wanted” veteran David Hudgins – a changing of the guard that’s got industry watchers raising perfectly groomed eyebrows.

Michael Michele rounds out the ensemble as the head of CIA’s New York Station, bringing the kind of commanding presence that makes even hardened agents stand a little straighter. With Dick Wolf himself at the helm, surrounded by a producing team that could probably run a small country if they weren’t so busy making hit shows, “CIA” seems poised to fill the void left by the conclusion of both “FBI: Most Wanted” and “FBI: International” last May.

Does the television landscape need another government agency drama? Well, considering the ratings these shows pull in, viewers apparently can’t get enough of badge-flashing and jurisdiction-crossing tension. Besides, with streaming services throwing money at increasingly outlandish concepts, there’s something almost comforting about a well-executed procedural with a stellar cast.

Mark those calendars for midseason 2026 – “CIA” is shaping up to be the kind of show that’ll have viewers setting their phones to Do Not Disturb faster than you can say “national security.” Just don’t expect any actual CIA agents to confirm or deny the show’s accuracy. That’s classified.

The Eurovision Song Contest faces its most dramatic upheaval in decades as European broadcasters take an unprecedented stand against Israel’s participation amid the ongoing Gaza conflict. What started as a whisper of protest has erupted into a full-throated chorus of dissent, with Ireland’s RTÉ leading a potential exodus that could reshape the beloved competition’s future.

RTÉ’s bombshell announcement — they won’t participate in 2026 if Israel takes part — has sent shockwaves through the Eurovision community. The typically festive atmosphere surrounding Europe’s grandest musical spectacle has given way to somber reflection and mounting tension.

“We haven’t ever seen anything like this,” remarks Eurovision historian Dr. Dean Vuletic, his words carrying the weight of decades of contest knowledge. The situation’s gravity becomes apparent as broadcasters from the Netherlands, Spain, Slovenia, and Iceland contemplate similar moves — though some remain hesitant to show their cards just yet.

RTÉ’s statement pulls no punches. Their position centers on what they describe as the “unconscionable” situation in Gaza, with particular emphasis on the targeting of journalists and restrictions on press access. It’s worth noting that Eurovision has weathered political storms before — but nothing quite like this.

Phil Coulter, the legendary Derry songwriter (and let’s not forget, the pen behind the UK’s 1967 winner “Puppet on a String”), didn’t mince words when speaking to BBC Radio Ulster. “Musicians, songwriters and performers are human beings with consciences,” he declared, throwing his considerable influence behind RTÉ’s stance. His call for the UK to follow suit adds another layer of complexity to an already thorny situation.

The European Broadcasting Union now finds itself in quite the pickle. Their July General Assembly — typically a rather mundane affair — transformed into a heated forum for debate. The organization’s decision to waive withdrawal penalties until December speaks volumes about their recognition of the crisis at hand.

Come to think of it, it’s rather ironic that a contest born from the ashes of post-war Europe as a celebration of unity now faces division over another conflict. The situation poses an existential question for Eurovision: can Europe’s most-watched non-sporting event maintain its apolitical stance in an increasingly politicized world?

As December’s deadline looms, broadcasters across Europe are faced with a choice that goes beyond mere participation in a song contest. It’s become a matter of conscience, principles, and the role of cultural events in times of crisis. Whatever happens, Eurovision 2026 will likely look quite different from what anyone might have expected just a few months ago.

Love finds a way to shine, even after a tough loss. Just ask Taylor Swift and Travis Kelce, who turned what could have been a gloomy Sunday evening into a heartwarming celebration at Kansas City’s buzzed-about restaurant, 1587 Prime.

The newly-engaged pair — whose August announcement sent social media into an absolute tizzy — weren’t about to let the Chiefs’ narrow 20-17 defeat to the Eagles dampen their spirits. Instead, they joined quarterback Patrick Mahomes and his wife Brittany for an intimate birthday gathering that proved sometimes the best plays happen off the field.

Swift, who’s mastered the art of dinner party chic, showed up in a head-turning Simkhai ensemble. The taupe and brown plaid two-piece set? Perfection. Those Gucci platform pumps and that vintage-inspired Chanel beaded necklace? Chef’s kiss. Meanwhile, Kelce kept it classic-with-a-twist in Thom Browne suit shorts (because who says you can’t rock shorts in January?) and a crisp white shirt that probably cost more than most people’s monthly rent.

The evening took an especially sweet turn when country star Kane Brown and his wife Katelyn Jae Brown joined the festivities. Brown couldn’t resist sharing a snap of the group on the restaurant’s grand staircase — and his caption spilled some serious tea about the couple’s private world. “Happy birthday Pat & congrats TT❤️ thanks for hosting us Britt 🙏🏽” he wrote, finally confirming what Swifties had been theorizing about for months: yes, she calls him TT.

Speaking of theories… Swift’s arrival at Arrowhead earlier that day had everyone talking. Gone were the much-photographed stadium walks; instead, she opted for a more under-the-radar entrance behind a moving wall, flanked by her mom Andrea and brother Austin. Perhaps she’s taking a page from her own “Anti-Hero” playbook — it’s her, hi, but you might not see her this time.

The whole “cameras everywhere” situation isn’t lost on Swift. Back in her TIME Person of the Year interview (feels like yesterday, doesn’t it?), she got real about the constant surveillance: “I don’t know how they know what suite I’m in. There’s a camera, like, a half-mile away, and you have no idea when the camera is putting you in the broadcast.” Fair point, considering the NFL’s 2025 season has basically become a Taylor Swift watch party with some football mixed in.

But let’s circle back to that engagement announcement — because honestly? It was peak them. “Your English teacher and your gym teacher are getting married 🧨,” Swift posted, with “So High School” playing in the background. The track, which dropped with her surprise 2024 album, had fans connecting the dots to Kelce faster than you can say “touchdown.”

As the night wrapped up with Mahomes making his birthday wish (probably for another Super Bowl ring, let’s be real), something became crystal clear: This wasn’t just another celeb hangout. It was a glimpse into how Swift and Kelce have created their own playbook for fame — one where stadium anthems and end zone celebrations dance together in perfect harmony.

In a world where most celebrity relationships feel about as authentic as a three-dollar bill, Swift and Kelce keep proving that sometimes the best stories write themselves. No PR stunts needed — just two people who happened to find their perfect match somewhere between “Shake It Off” and “Fourth & Long.”

Hollywood’s biggest night in television proved that even the most meticulously planned ceremonies can’t escape life’s peculiar twists. The 2025 Emmy Awards delivered more than just golden statuettes — it served up a fascinating cocktail of historic firsts, bittersweet farewells, and one particularly swollen eye.

Stephen Colbert finally broke his Emmy drought. After nine years of watching the outstanding talk series award slip through his fingers, “The Late Show” claimed its victory — though the triumph carries a hint of irony. With the show wrapping up in May (thanks to those ever-mysterious “financial considerations” from Paramount), Colbert’s win feels like television’s equivalent of a goodbye kiss.

Never one to waste a moment in the spotlight, Colbert took to the stage with that trademark blend of wit and gravitas that’s made him a late-night fixture. “I have never loved my country more desperately,” he declared, managing to pack volumes of commentary into a single line. Between his recent jabs at Paramount’s $16 million Trump settlement and a touching tribute to his late executive assistant Amy Cole, the speech hit notes both political and deeply personal.

The night’s breakout star? “Adolescence” swept through the ceremony like a hurricane, snagging six awards and making history with Owen Cooper’s win. The fresh-faced actor now holds the distinction of being the youngest male recipient in any acting category — not bad for someone who was probably doing algebra homework this time last year.

Meanwhile, “The Studio” continued its remarkable victory lap, adding four more trophies to its already impressive haul of nine Creative Arts Emmys. At this point, they might need to build a separate wing just to house their collection.

The red carpet delivered its usual parade of sartorial statements. Sydney Sweeney commanded attention in red satin, while Jenna Ortega’s jewel-encrusted naked dress had fashion critics reaching for their thesauruses. But one familiar face was conspicuously absent from the festivities — Sofía Vergara found herself trading designer gowns for a hospital gown. The “Modern Family” star’s Instagram post from the ER (“Didn’t make it to the Emmys but made it to the ER”) offered a reminder that even Hollywood’s elite aren’t immune to life’s more mundane emergencies.

Beyond the glitz and glamour, the ceremony became a platform for broader statements. Hannah Einbinder joined the growing chorus of voices calling for an Israel-Hamas ceasefire, while Britt Lower’s acceptance speech channeled her “Severance” character Helly — because why settle for reality when you can blur the lines between fiction and… whatever that show is about?

As streaming wars rage on and corporate mergers reshape the landscape, this year’s Emmy Awards captured an industry in flux. Between Colbert’s imminent departure (which nobody really believes is “purely financial”) and the record-breaking achievements of new series, television’s biggest night reflected both the medium’s creative heights and its behind-the-scenes tensions.

Perhaps that’s what makes these ceremonies worth watching — they’re not just about celebrating achievement, but about witnessing an industry’s evolution in real-time. Though sometimes, as Sofía Vergara proved, life has other plans.

America’s political landscape shifted irreversibly last week with Charlie Kirk’s assassination — a stark reminder that violent rhetoric has finally crossed the line from angry tweets to deadly reality. The murder of the conservative activist hasn’t just dominated headlines; it’s ripped open wounds that many hoped would heal after the tumultuous election cycles of the past decade.

The response? Well, that’s where things get truly disturbing.

Across social media platforms and workplace break rooms, celebrations of Kirk’s death have emerged from the darker corners of American society. These aren’t just anonymous trolls hiding behind keyboards — they’re our coworkers, neighbors, and (until recently) trusted professionals. Jesse Watters put it bluntly on his prime-time Fox News slot: “These sadists are walking among us.” Hard to argue with that assessment, considering what’s unfolded.

Take Office Depot’s recent PR nightmare. A store employee refused to print posters for Kirk’s vigil — seemingly a small act of defiance that snowballed into national news. Then there’s the Secret Service agent — yeah, you read that right — placed on administrative leave for celebrating the very kind of violence they’re sworn to prevent. The Washington Post didn’t hesitate to show columnist Karen Attiah the door after her controversial take suggesting America’s violence problem stems from “white men who espouse hatred.”

Vice President J.D. Vance, speaking on what used to be Kirk’s show (god, that feels weird to write), didn’t mince words. “This is not a both sides problem,” he declared, pointing to a pattern of left-wing violence that’s become impossible to ignore. From the attempted hit on Trump to the Scalise shooting, the evidence keeps piling up.

But hang on — there’s a glimmer of hope in this mess.

Utah Governor Spencer Cox’s “Disagree Better” initiative seems almost prophetic now. Launched just months before Kirk’s death, it’s gained surprising traction across party lines. The program’s push for “healthier dialogue” might sound quaint given recent events, but maybe that’s exactly what we need in 2025.

Jesse Watters, though, isn’t buying the kumbaya approach. “We will not work with people who glorify assassinations,” he declared, advocating for complete social ostracism of violence-celebrators. It’s a stance that’s gained traction, especially after religious leaders like Pastor Frederick D. Haynes sparked outrage by dismissing comparisons between Kirk and MLK.

Here’s the thing — when political assassination generates anything but universal horror, something’s fundamentally broken in our social fabric. The response to Kirk’s death has become a sort of national Rorschach test, revealing more about ourselves than we might care to admit.

So where does America go from here? Cox’s “Disagree Better” approach offers one path forward. Others suggest a more dramatic solution: complete separation from those who celebrate political violence. Either way, the next few months will likely determine whether 2025 becomes the year America began to heal — or the year it finally broke apart for good.