On March 1st I ended up in the odd position of offering confirmation of something that I'd only learned of mere moments before. Andrew Breitbart, star quarterback of the conservative movement, had passed away.
I had a hard time accepting it to be true so I had a quick text exchange with someone close enough to Andrew that I knew his answer would be the God's honest truth, Chris Loesch. I said "Please tell me this isn't true about Andrew." Within seconds Chris replied, "It is true."
I took the confirmation to twitter and within moments was being retweeted and referenced in publications as confirming the tragic news.
It was a very odd feeling. I'd met Andrew many times, we'd exchanged a few texts and emails in the past and I had the privilege of interviewing him for my podcast. We were acquaintances, but by no means could I be called a close friend or confidant of Andrew Breitbart.
Yet here I was, confirming to people who adored him and had loved and been friends with him for years, that the worst possible news was true. Their friend was gone. It was a surreal and unwelcome feeling. Almost like I had intruded on someone's private moment.
Before I had a chance to think more about it I received a call that someone really wanted a tribute to be put together in honor of this great man and they wanted me to do it. I happily agreed and within moments knew what it would be called: Warrior.
To me, that's what Andrew was. A warrior. A soldier. A leader. A man that was bigger than life who changed the world just by waking up in the morning.
So while others were grieving and mourning, I found myself poring over his life. Looking at every video, every sound byte, every photo. I kept reminding myself how odd it was that there would be no more. That whatever is out there in the world, is all there will ever be.
Watching the videos, I realized quickly that he fought so much harder than I did. I've found myself many times in the position of shouting down protestors or defying orders. But nothing like Andrew. Watching him was like watching a visual representation of passion itself. As though passion had clothed itself in the body of a man and was speaking directly to me through these archives of speeches and confrontations.
I knew that I was right to think of him as a warrior, but I didn't realize how much more he was. He was a visionary, with a stated purpose and mission that was as brilliant as it was simplistic and focused: Destroy the mainstream media. And every day that Andrew hit the pavement, it was with that mission in mind. And he was damn effective at it as anyone reading this knows.
I knew that if I made a video about him, a tribute, that it had to be less about the personal side of Andrew, because I didn't know that side of him. It had to be about his mission. A mission that I share. A mission that you should share too. We must defeat the narrative, the template designers, the propagandists pretending to be journalists and truth tellers. We must get the culture back and we must do it by exposing the farce of the Main Stream Media. From everything I know of the man, that's how he would want to be remembered and that is what I hoped to relay.
I believed, and hope it is evident in this video, that he would've wanted his life and his death to be a rallying cry. A call to arms. As he said "We have an obligation...to fight back."
We will. And you did Andrew. We thank you. Let us fight now. You rest at last, Warrior.