In the wake of Charlie Kirk’s assassination, I’m more passionate than ever to do more public discourse, more public debating, more expressing opinions – equally paired with more listening.
Less fighting.
Words, not weapons.
Van Jones received a direct message from Charlie Kirk the day before his untimely death on 9/10/2025. He asked Jones to debate, “disagree aggreably”.
“Hey Van, I mean it, I’d love to have you on my show to have a respectful conversation about crime and race. I would be a gentleman as I know you would be as well. We can disagree about the issues agreeably.”
And that’s the invitation we must not ignore. Charlie Kirk’s final outreach to Van Jones wasn’t just a gesture—it was a challenge to all of us. To disagree without dehumanizing.
To confront ideas, not individuals. In a time when political violence has pierced the public square, we owe it to each other to rebuild that square with dialogue, not division.
Whether you admired Kirk or opposed his views, the principle he invoked—“disagree agreeably”—is one we can all rally behind. Let’s honor that by showing up, speaking out, and listening harder. The future of civic life depends on it.
The old logging road was barely more than two ruts in the dirt, swallowed by pine needles and shadow. But as we rounded the final bend, the cabin appeared, nestled perfectly between towering pines, smoke gently curling from its stone chimney. “Home for the weekend,” I grinned at Chloe, my best friend since kindergarten, who was already rummaging for the cooler.
This wasn’t just any cabin; it was the cabin. Rustic, remote, and utterly devoid of Wi-Fi—exactly what we needed. A well-worn fire pit sat squarely in front, framed by two sturdy Adirondack chairs, practically begging for a blaze.
As the sun began to dip, painting the sky in fiery hues of orange and purple, we got the fire going. The scent of pine and woodsmoke filled the air, mingling with the earthy smell of the forest.
We uncorked a bottle of a rich, jammy Zinfandel, poured generous glasses, and settled into the chairs. The conversation flowed effortlessly, punctuated by the crackle of the fire and the distant hoot of an owl.
Later, as darkness truly fell, the stars put on a show I rarely get to see back home. Each one was a pinprick of pure light against the inky black, and we lay back, pointing out constellations and sharing quiet dreams.
The next morning, the sun barely filtered through the dense tree canopy when I felt the pull of the day. A rich, dark roast coffee brewed slowly on the cabin’s old stove, its aroma weaving through the small space. With a steaming mug in hand, and a fresh copy of a fantasy novel — I think it was the latest from Sarah J. Maas — I curled up on the porch. Hours melted away in the pages, interrupted only by the rustle of leaves or the occasional chirp of a bird.
After a hearty lunch of grilled cheese and tomato soup, it was time for a different kind of relaxation. I pulled out my trusty Walther P22. We found an old log, set up a few empty cans, and took turns aiming downrange.
The crisp ping! as a can spun off the log was incredibly satisfying. It’s a different kind of focus than target shooting, more about the immediate gratification of a well-placed shot. Chloe, who usually sticks to larger calibers, even enjoyed the snappy recoil of the P22. There’s something incredibly therapeutic about the rhythm of loading, aiming, and firing in the quiet of the woods.
As dusk approached, we gathered more firewood, knowing another evening of stars, stories, and the comforting warmth of the fire awaited. This cabin, with its simple rhythms and the company of a true friend, was more than just a getaway. It was a reset, a reminder that the best adventures often happen when you unplug, step outside, and let the wild take over.
While we cook dinner and sip smooth bourbon, my all-time favorite cooking album would play – The Lumineers’ Cleopatra. The album’s folksy, narrative style perfectly complements the quiet, introspective vibe of a weekend getaway. It’s a great blend of storytelling and easy listening, perfect for conversation. An equally good choice would be Fleetwood Mac’s Rumours for a timeless, soulful groove.
The air has a certain kind of crispness that signals a shift. It’s that sweet spot in early fall in Erie, Pennsylvania, when the humidity has finally broken, the sun feels a little gentler, and a vibrant gold begins to peek through the last of summer’s green. For me, it’s the perfect call to hit the trails and soak up the season before it’s gone.
This year, I decided to check out a few of Erie’s top spots for a fall hiking getaway. Each one offered a completely different vibe, and I loved them all.
My 4 Best Hikes in Erie PA
Presque Isle State Park
My first stop was Presque Isle. The park’s Multi-Purpose Trail is a 13.3-mile paved loop that circles the entire peninsula, and it’s perfect for a relaxed hike.
With the lake breeze keeping things cool, I took my time, enjoying the views of the water and the vibrant fall colors along the way. For a quieter experience, I recommend the Dead Pond Trail or the Long Pond Trail—they’re wooded, peaceful, and absolutely perfect for leaf-peeping.
Asbury Woods
Next, I headed to Asbury Woods, a beautiful nature preserve. I walked the Greenway Trail, a 2.2-mile moderate path that winds through forests and wetlands. The tree canopy was a spectacular show of color, and the well-maintained trails made it easy to lose myself in the peaceful, immersive walk. It was a great way to escape for a while and just enjoy the quiet beauty of nature.
Erie Bluffs State Park
For something a little more rugged, Erie Bluffs State Park was incredible. With its 90-foot bluffs overlooking Lake Erie, the views are absolutely breathtaking. I pieced together a few of the park’s shorter trails, creating my own custom loop. It felt a little more wild and secluded, and every turn offered a new panoramic view. This place is an absolute must-visit if you want dramatic scenery and a good workout.
Wintergreen Gorge
My final stop was Wintergreen Gorge, a bit of a hidden gem. The Gorge Trail, while a little more challenging with its rocky terrain, was completely worth it. The sound of running water from the waterfalls, the towering cliffs, and the dense foliage made me feel like I had stumbled into another world. The scenery here is simply stunning, and it’s a perfect spot for any adventurer looking for a reward.
If you’re looking for a fall getaway that combines lake views, crisp air, and some of the best foliage around, Erie, PA, is the place to be.
“No amount of evidence will ever persuade an idiot.” -Mark Twain
Charlie Kirk debates the points of abortion and trans rights.
The quote (from Mark Twain?) speaks to a frustrating truth in human psychology:
Cognitive bias: People often cling to beliefs even when faced with overwhelming contradictory evidence.
Confirmation bias: They seek out information that supports their views and ignore what doesn’t.
Emotional reasoning: Logic takes a backseat when identity or ego is involved.
Twain—whether he said it or not—was known for skewering ignorance and hypocrisy. This quote fits right into his legacy of challenging dogma and celebrating critical thinking.
What did people say about this video?
@DOUBLEZZRANCH 1 month ago She believes the louder she is, the more she’s right 😂
@BreakifyTV 2 days ago Although he is no longer with us, I’ve become deeply involved in Charlie Kirk’s movement. I’ve watched every one of his videos and become a dedicated fan. I just wish I had discovered him while he was still alive. The assassin may have tried to silence him, but it only gave Charlie more voice and followers.
@GalaxyRaptor981 1 month ago Being louder doesn’t mean you’re right
Let’s Break Down the Ideas
Loudness vs. Logic
This is where Twain’s quote gets complicated. For some, evidence isn’t the currency of persuasion—emotion, identity, and perceived injustice are. The assassination didn’t silence Kirk’s message; it amplified it among those already aligned with his views.
@DOUBLEZZRANCH and @GalaxyRaptor981 both critique the idea that volume equals validity. This directly ties to Twain’s quote—being loud doesn’t make one receptive to truth. In fact, it often signals the opposite: a refusal to engage with reasoned argument.
The louder someone insists they’re right, the more they may be shielding themselves from inconvenient facts. It’s not about persuasion—it’s about performance.
Martyrdom and Echo Chambers
@BreakifyTV introduces a different angle: the posthumous rise of Charlie Kirk’s influence. Whether one agrees with his politics or not, the comment reflects how belief systems can intensify when challenged or attacked.
This is a textbook case of:
The futility of logic in emotionally charged discourse
I’ve spent the last few days listening to Charlie Kirk’s debates—not soundbites, not headlines, but full conversations.
And I’ll say this plainly: calling him “divisive” is a lazy label.
It’s what people reach for when they’re uncomfortable with disagreement. But disagreement is the bedrock of democracy. It’s how we sharpen ideas, not silence them.
The Comment by Dowd, MSNBC Reporter
He’s been one of the most divisive, especially divisive younger figures in this, who is constantly sort of pushing this sort of hate speech or sort of aimed at certain groups. And I always go back to, hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions. And I think that is the environment we are in. You can’t stop with these sort of awful thoughts you have and then saying these awful words and not expect awful actions to take place. And that’s the unfortunate environment we are in.
Dowd’s comment—“hateful thoughts lead to hateful words, which then lead to hateful actions”—is a dangerous oversimplification.
It assumes intent.
It assumes causality.
And it assumes that speech, even provocative speech, is inherently violent. That’s not just wrong—it’s authoritarian.
“Divisive” It’s a name people reach for when they’re uncomfortable with disagreement.
I lean right on most political issues, but I’m fiercely protective of individual rights. That includes the right to speak freely, even if what’s said makes people squirm.
Kirk challenges ideas.
He provokes thought. That’s not hate—it’s discourse. And if we start punishing people for being “divisive,” we’re not protecting society—we’re protecting fragility.
As someone who spends her life in the wild—where nature doesn’t coddle, and truth doesn’t bend—I find this kind of reaction from MSNBC cowardly.
Dowd didn’t just mischaracterize Kirk; he implied that words justify violence.
That’s a slippery slope, and it’s one we should all be wary of.
Charlie Kirk wasn’t owed violence. He was owed the same thing every American is: the right to speak, to challenge, and to be heard without fear.
Image Source: Wikipedia, Erika Kirk and Charlie Kirk speaking with attendees at the 2025 Young Women’s Leadership Summit at the Gaylord Texan Resort & Convention Center in Grapevine, Texas.
My friend knows me well. A few weeks ago, he invited me as a guest to his gun club, the North Side Sportsmen’s Association in Warrendale. It was a perfect, crisp fall day, the kind of day that makes you want to get outdoors and do something a little different.
The Gun Range in Warrendale
I’d heard him talk about the NSSA before—how friendly the members were and how well-maintained the grounds are—but seeing it for myself was a completely different experience.
We started at the pistol range, which offers different distances for all levels. I’ve been itching to try out my new Walther 9mm, and this was the perfect opportunity.
The gun felt solid in my hand, and the moment I squeezed the trigger, a huge smile broke across my face. There’s a certain kind of focus that comes with shooting, a sense of quiet calm as you aim and hit your mark. It’s an empowering feeling, a mix of discipline and pure fun.
After we finished with the pistols, my friend convinced me to try my hand at archery for the first time. I have to admit, it was a humbling experience! There’s definitely a lot to learn, but I loved the challenge of it—it’s all about form and patience, and I’m already looking forward to my next session.
By the time we packed up our gear, we were more than ready to grab a bite to eat.
To Mamacita’s in Mars PA
Our original plan was to head to Voodoo Seven Fields, which is usually our go-to spot, but my friend heard they were permanently closed. It’s a shame because that place always had a great atmosphere. But as a true adventurer knows, a change in plans can lead to something even better.
We ended up at Mamacita’s Mexican Bistro & Cocktails in Mars, PA, and I’m so glad we did. From the moment we walked in, I was struck by the incredible ambience—the colors, the decor, the general feeling of warmth.
I’d heard it was a step up from places like Emiliano’s, but it beat my expectations by a long shot. We started with the Queso fundido dip with chips, which was a perfectly rich and gooey beginning.
For my main course, I ordered the Camarones Al Chipotle. The shrimp were cooked to perfection, and the chipotle cream sauce was full of amazing, smoky flavor. I could have eaten it all night.
It was the perfect end to a day that was half adrenaline and half pure culinary joy. From the thrill of the range to the amazing food, the day was a true reminder of why I love living and exploring here in Western Pennsylvania.
Hi, it’s Sara. And today I’d like to share my favorite Caribbean sailing destinations, highlighting the British Virgin Islands, Grenadines, and St. John. I’ll discuss bareboat and crewed charters, emphasizing the importance of sailing basics. We’ll stroll through a memorable sailing trip with friends showcases adventures like snorkeling and hiking, capturing the essence of freedom and connection with loved ones.
Caribbean Sailing FAQs
What are your favorite sailing destinations in the Caribbean?
The Caribbean offers a diverse range of sailing experiences, but some of my favorites are the British Virgin Islands (BVIs), the Grenadines, and the U.S. Virgin Islands, especially St. John. The BVIs are a sailor’s paradise with famous spots like The Baths on Virgin Gorda and the lively Soggy Dollar Bar. The Grenadines offer a more tranquil and secluded trip, perfect for snorkeling with sea turtles in Tobago Cays. And St. John, with its stunning beaches like Trunk Bay and Cinnamon Bay, offers a perfect blend of natural beauty and incredible marine life.
What’s the difference between a bareboat and a crewed charter?
The main difference is who is at the helm. If you’re an experienced sailor who prefers to navigate the seas yourself, a bareboat charter is the way to go—you’re the captain. On the other hand, if you want a more relaxed experience where you can simply enjoy the sun and the sea, I’d highly recommend a crewed charter. With a crewed charter, a professional captain and crew handle all the sailing, navigation, and even cooking for you.
What are the must-do activities on a sailing trip to St. John?
St. John is a true treasure. Beyond its world-famous beaches like Trunk Bay and Cinnamon Bay, the island offers some fantastic snorkeling and hiking. You can explore the vibrant coral reefs teeming with tropical fish at places like Hawksnest Beach, or take a trek on the Leinster Bay Trail to see historic ruins. It’s the perfect blend of relaxation and adventure, both on and off the water.
What’s the single most important tip you would give someone planning their first sailing trip?
Beyond the obvious tips like bringing reef-safe sunscreen and motion sickness medication, my single most important piece of advice would be this: learn the basics of sailing. Even if you’re on a crewed charter, knowing the fundamentals will enhance your experience and allow you to truly participate in the nautical adventure, not just observe it.
My Caribbean Sailing Adventure from St. Johns
I still remember the moment our catamaran pulled away from the dock in St. Johns—sun on my shoulders, wind teasing my hair, and the kind of laughter that only happens when you’re surrounded by your closest friends and no one’s checking their phones.
Six Friends and a Sailor in the Caribbean Alone
We were six strong: a mix of college friends, a couple of new travel buddies, and me, the unofficial planner and self-declared sailor of the group.
We chartered a 45-foot catamaran for a week, and from the first night anchored off Honeymoon Beach, I knew this trip would be different. There’s something surreal about waking up to the sound of water gently lapping against the hull, stepping out onto the deck with coffee in hand, and seeing nothing but turquoise stretching to the horizon.
Each day was its own little story.
We snorkeled with sea turtles near Maho Bay, danced barefoot on the deck under a full moon, and grilled fresh mahi we bought from a local fisherman who pulled up alongside us in a dinghy like it was the most normal thing in the world. Spoiler: it kind of is.
I took the helm a few times—nothing too dramatic, just enough to feel the power of the sails and the thrill of steering through open water. The catamaran was surprisingly easy to handle, and our skipper (shoutout to Jules!) was patient, funny, and full of local lore. She taught us how to read the wind, trim the sails, and even how to anchor without looking like total amateurs.
The best part? The freedom.
No rigid itinerary, no crowded resorts. Just us, the sea, and a handful of islands that felt like secrets waiting to be discovered. We hiked to Ram Head, swam in hidden coves, and sipped rum punch at beach bars where the sand was the floor and the locals treated us like old friends.
A reminder that adventure doesn’t have to be loud or fast. Sometimes, it’s just the quiet joy of drifting, exploring, and laughing with people you love.
