Tucker Carlson sat down with Nick Fuentes, and the gates of hell yawned open—at least according to the professional pearl-clutchers of Conservative Inc. Eric Metaxas, the radio host who once fancied himself a Dietrich Bonhoeffer for talk radio, thundered that Carlson had supped with the devil. Dinesh D’Souza, whose documentaries make for sensitivity training for senior citizen field trips, warned that this interview was a bridge too far, a moral Rubicon that could only lead to the ovens. Then came the microwaved neocons: people like Seth Dillon of Babylon Bee, suddenly trading punchlines for pitchforks; Brandon Tatum, the ex-cop turned Benjamin Netanyahu PR man who had to find a new schtick after the Black Lives Matter gimmick got old; Will Chamberlain, the lawyer who mistakes smugness for intelligence. All of them, old guard and new, falling over themselves to denounce Tucker, to signal their purity, to beg the regime for a pat on the head.
There is something Gnostic in their frenzy, something that smells of the old heresy: the idea that words are more dangerous than bombs, that a conversation is a greater sin than the slaughter of innocents. That knowledge is more sacred than flesh. Interviewing someone you disagree with—that is the unforgivable transgression, not the tens of thousands of children buried under rubble in Gaza. Not the videos circulating of Israeli settlers clubbing elderly Palestinian women as they pick olives, or raiding farms to slaughter lambs while laughing. Not the sadistic officials parading prisoners in cages, stripped and broken for the cameras. Not the civilians—mothers, fathers, babies—vaporized by precision munitions while Steve Witkoff and Jared Kushner shrug and muse about beachfront condos and tech hubs rising from the ashes once the “clearing” is done.
No. The real crime is Tucker Carlson giving a microphone to a young man who says bad things like criticizing Israel.
If you recoil at any of this—if your stomach turns at the sight of a child’s limb sticking out of concrete, or at the casual erasure of an entire people for a real estate prospectus—you will be harangued without mercy. The script is always the same:
- God will curse you for having the conscience of Christ.
- You hate democracy and want Hamas to rule the world.
- You hate Jews.
Disagree with killing children in cold blood to seize land? You hate Jews. God hates you. You are an enemy of freedom.
No rational adult can take this seriously. This is not argument. This is woke-style gaslighting. This hysteria belongs in an asylum or a deliverance ministry, depending on your worldview.
But Tucker crossed a Rubicon—not by endorsing Fuentes, but by acknowledging a reality that already exists. Like Donald Trump in 2016 with his “radical” border talk, Fuentes did not create the sentiment. He is merely reflecting what is already there: a generation of young people who have watched their country bleed trillions of dollars and thousands of lives into the desert, who have seen the same foreign policy ghouls fail upward for decades, who have grown up force-fed a unipolar gospel that delivers neither peace nor prosperity—only body bags and beachfront renderings.
The neocons scream because they sense the ground shifting. Their sacred cows—endless war, ethnic cleansing disguised as security, the fusion of Zionism with American destiny—are being questioned not in faculty lounges, but in living rooms. Tucker dined with Zacchaeus.
Remember the tax collector? Hated. Collaborator. Profiteer. Short in stature, shorter in morals. The Pharisees lost their minds when Jesus went to his house. “He has gone to be the guest of a sinner!” they cried. But Christ didn’t go to affirm Zacchaeus. He went to call him out of the system that enriched him at everyone else’s expense.
Tucker’s interview table is not an altar of agreement. It’s an invitation to dialog and understanding. And the Pharisees of our age, whether in blazers or blue checks, cannot abide it.
They want the conversation policed. They want the Overton Window soldered shut. They want you to believe that the only alternatives are their forever wars or swastika armbands. But the binary is a lie. You can oppose the crucifixion of Gaza and the crucifixion of discourse. You can reject both the bomb and the ban.
Tucker Carlson could have kept Nick Fuentes shunned from conversation and the latter’s influence would only continue to grow. Youth tend to heighten their admiration for those banned from discourse. The revolution will not be televised and all that. Tucker could have used his interview to ambush him and lecture him, but when has a wayward twenty-seven year old ever listened to an older man’s browbeating? Instead, he listened in good faith to a person he disagreed with and firmly pushed back when necessary. Planting seeds into Fuentes’ audience that could course correct some of his errors while mainstreaming the figure is actually the best tactic one could employ to neutralize the bad elements of his agenda.
The spirit of the age demands blood and silence. Christ offers bread and speech.
Tucker chose the latter.
And for that, the scribes are already sharpening their nails.
