By The Daily Caller (Opinion) | Created at 2026-06-16 14:37:36 | Updated at 2026-06-16 18:54:59
4 hours ago
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Greetings, Dear Reader,
You read the title. You know what you’re here to read.
FAKE, GAY AND WEAK, an open letter to the political left
The Bolsheviks would turn away. Mao’s student radicals would be sickened. Stalin? Utterly disgusted.
Dear political left, why are you gay? … weak, and/or fake?
How can you possibly be expected to load us all onto trains when your spiritual avatars are elderly, long irrelevant women and men in women’s clothing?
Robert De Niro, Jane Fonda, Bette Midler and Patti Smith (who?) headlined your big Sunday night event. It was meant to compete with Trump’s astoundingly over-the-top America 250th UFC display. You called it “Rise Up, Sing Out: A Concert for the First Amendment,” as if we’re supposed to believe you care about speech after the last 10 years of unpersoning and imprisoning normal folks for making jokes online.
It had a crowd of tens of people who paid hundreds of dollars to sit in an air-conditioned auditorium listening to a parade of elderly women crow. At the same time, American servicemen attended Trump’s event for free to watch warriors ensconced in the American flag fight a brutal bloodsport in a literal arena.
A full 80,000 people stood in the ellipse. No cover charge. Drinking ice cold beers and cheering on the display of hyper-masculine dominance.
While billions of dollars in American might jetted above the crowd to the sound of a classic rendition of the National Anthem, your event featured weak beatnik singing and dancing from the Vietnam era. A soundtrack set to the last struggling neurons of activist boomerdom firing hysterically before the impending darkness. Millionaires in designer outfits screeching resistance porn. Fragility wrapped faux courage. A geriatric larp of 60s radicalism.
It was gross negligence to carry through with this event and you did it with an oblivious, drooling enthusiasm previously associated only to those who suffer profound head trauma when they see pudding.
Hollywood is out, haven’t you heard? A writer/director most well known for dick and poop jokes on YouTube just upended your whole business model with a horror satire on female mental illness. Your professional fakers still boast a $2 million food budget while producing unwanted, un-asked for half-billion dollar acts of vandalism all to boost the cause of diversity. It’ll bomb at the box office, by the way, because literally nobody wants a modern Odyssey that is fake, weak and gay.
And for the record, I could lobotomize the fully dysmorphed Ellen Page with a fart, and you cast her as Achilles.
Isn’t it perfect?
You invited Joy Reid and Julia Roberts to motivate the crowd. A media diversity hire most recently famous for hallucinating time traveling Russians and a woman whose most profound contribution to the arts was playing a reformed prostitute 30 years ago.
We have Teddy, Abe and George. We have Justin Gaethje, Dana White and Sean O’Malley. Our comedians are actually funny. Our actors do bombing runs in sequels that outperform your entire lineup.
At one point, Patti Smith, the punk poetess, got the crowd rehearsing “People Have the Power” in advance. Call-and-response choruses of “the people rule” and echoes about redeeming “the work of fools.” The pre-show rehearsal footage captured the scripted nature: lyrics projected, backups drilled, audience prepped for performative enthusiasm. Smith’s gravelly delivery and the song’s anthemic swell fit the evening’s theme of collective delusion – that singing folk rock will somehow dismantle “strongman politics.”
It’s all so fake and weak. No Kings and Indivisible – funded in large part by foreign communists and Alex Soros, an obviously gay man who hasn’t realized it yet – piped the steam over social to literally just hundreds. My guess is you got more views from people making fun of you online over the next two days.
The next day David Ellison was going bananas. He cold-called Dana White. The numbers on Paramount+ must have been earth-shattering. The witness to America’s strength was undoubtedly global.
For you, the theme of weakness permeated every element. Fonda at 88+ invoking nonviolence while history recorded her cheering actual murderous communists. Midler changing the lyrics for “our time” into Trump Derangement Syndrome folk clap because original protest songs aren’t quite on-message enough. Your heavy reliance on Broadway choirs and drag performers like Peppermint signaled a celebration of aesthetic fragility over martial virtue.
“Fake, weak and gay” isn’t crude slang here. It captures the effete, theatrical, identity-obsessed performance art that substitutes for substance. You don’t build or fight. You emote and signal.
Your America is a feelings circle, not a proving ground.
We embodied discipline, hierarchy by merit, resilience under pressure. No safe spaces, no trigger warnings, no corporate apologies.
“Push back from who?” said Dana White at a presser.
“From people who say ‘aw this event shouldn’t happen on the white house lawn?’” asked a reporter.
“Fuck em. I don’t give a shit about that.”
In the arena, skill met will to spectacular effect and a new champion was crowned. He thanked America’s servicemen and women. He thanked God.
Your counterprogramming, meanwhile, revealed a deep rot. You’ve abandoned the working man for coastal cultural clerisy. Your “First Amendment” defense was selective. You defend only speech that aligns with your priors. Book bans? You mean teaching kids how to have homosexual sex, literally. Also, you pioneered content warnings and curriculum purges! Cancel culture? You invented it. Corporate cowardice? Silicon Valley and Hollywood bent the knee to progressive orthodoxy for years. Now you cry when accountability arrives.
Your aging icons reek of sour obsolescence. Dried bleach on the floor of a government-subsidized old person’s home. Your newer faces merely filled diversity checkboxes. They generated little fire. The bellies of Americans are unmoved. You are warmed over milk.
You are a movement of managed decline. Singing dirges for a cultural hegemony slipping away. You “rise up” on stage and “sing out” platitudes, but you lack the fortitude to engage in the actual contest of ideas or physical mettle.
You aren’t just wrong on policy, you’re soft where it counts. Fake in your toughness, effete in your aesthetics, weak in your vision. Your men are soft-penis debutants, your women are “men.”
Trump’s UFC night wasn’t just entertainment, it was a statement. The left’s concert was the rebuttal that proved the point. While warriors competed, the fragile sang and banged on tambourines.
America chooses strength. The rest is fake, gay and weak noise.
MORE LINKS
You May Have Missed It (Like Everyone Else): Democrats’ Rival Event To Trump’s UFC Bombs
In case you want to see more, if you’re into that kind of stuff.
New Report Says Major School System Hid Admissions Data Defying Supreme Court
Shut ‘em down, take ‘em over.
Why Democrats’ Total Control In One State Is Starting To Backfire
‘She’s A Diva’ — State Democratic Party Power Broker Escalates Feud With Governor
New leader already reeling, more stormy waters ahead.
