I am in Roanoke, Virginia.
I saw the videos.
Not clips.
Not screenshots.
Not the “context” people sell like coupons.
The videos.
I know the truth.
It does not need to argue.
It does not need a thread or a podcast or a guy pointing at captions.
It just sits there.
Heavy.
Unavoidable.
It. Was. Murder.
Say it slow and it stops being controversial.
Say it plain and it stops being abstract.
Say it at all and people get uncomfortable.
Good.
Because comfort is the luxury of people who did not watch.
History is still watching.
And the truth does not need permission to exist.
