Doocy’s commentary grew even more forceful as he conveyed his personal frustration over what he described as a disturbing lack of accountability from agencies like the FBI and Secret Service. “I want to know everything there is to know about this country,” he said passionately. “I think our country deserves it. I think our family deserves it. I think the world deserves it.” He further argued that the credibility of the Secret Service—an agency he made sure to clarify he admires and respects—has been severely undermined by the meager amount of information released to the public. According to Doocy, the agency “better get the real story up” because the American people deserve clarity on how a 20-year-old with documented online extremism and prior reports of threatening behavior was able to position himself within shooting distance of a former president at a campaign rally. Co-host Brian Kilmeade added yet another layer of confusion by noting that FBI officials insist President Biden has expressed satisfaction with the briefings he has received. “What are you to believe?” Kilmeade asked. “People who brief the president, or Miranda Devine of the New York Post, or both? Or maybe the president changed his mind?” The questions reflect a broader national concern: that contradictory statements and opaque investigative practices have made it increasingly difficult for the public to discern the truth.
New reporting—including significant findings from New York Post columnist Miranda Devine—has drawn attention to a potentially noteworthy connection between Crooks and Tyler Robinson. Robinson is currently charged in the brutal killing of Charlie Kirk, the founder of Turning Point USA, making any overlap between the two men’s backgrounds deeply troubling for political observers and law-enforcement officials alike. TPUSA spokesman Andrew Kolvet called the development “a five-alarm fire,” stressing that the new information may point to deeper ideological or psychological patterns shared by Robinson and Crooks. Devine’s reporting indicates that Crooks harbored an online fascination with transgenderism and the furry subculture—interests echoed in the life of Robinson, whose roommate was described as his transgender partner and reportedly shared the same fetishistic subculture. These parallels have intensified speculation about whether the two individuals moved in overlapping online communities or were influenced by similar digital environments that glorified violence, extremism, and escapist identity frameworks. Devine also revealed that investigators have offered little clarity regarding Crooks’ motive for attempting to assassinate Trump, even though he left behind a detailed digital trail that should have been discovered early in the investigation. She reminded readers that Crooks was fatally shot by a Secret Service sniper after killing rally attendee Corey Comperatore and seriously injuring two others—David Dutch and James Copenhaver—facts that only heighten the urgency for a comprehensive explanation of what went wrong.
“There is something very wrong with the official story, and that invites conspiracy theories,” Devine wrote, capturing the sentiment shared by millions of Americans watching the case unfold. She cited sources familiar with Crooks’ digital history who say the 20-year-old experienced a dramatic ideological shift beginning around 2020. Whereas his early posts expressed enthusiastic support for Trump, his later writings dripped with contempt for the former president as well as for Trump’s supporters. In a February 2020 post, Crooks wrote, “How can you people call others sheep, but you are [too] brainwashed to realize how dumb you are. I mean literally you guys sound like a cult at times.” By that August, he escalated to advocating terrorism, writing that “the only way to fight the gov is with terrorism style attacks,” and urging others to bomb essential buildings and assassinate political leaders. Devine’s reporting makes clear that such statements should have triggered immediate scrutiny from federal authorities. Retired FBI senior agent Rod Swanson echoed this concern, saying there is “no scenario” in which the FBI could have legitimately overlooked Crooks’ online behavior. “No matter how ridiculous the allegation, no matter if it’s COVID or not, somebody is going to knock on somebody’s door,” Swanson said. In his view, even a minimal investigation into Crooks would have generated documented assessments, meaning someone either missed critical information—or deliberately withheld it. This possibility has contributed to the growing distrust of federal agencies involved in the case.
Devine also uncovered a trove of Crooks’ online activity related to gender identity and the furry community, including his listing of “they/them” pronouns on DeviantArt, a well-known hub for anthropomorphic art and niche subcultures. Crooks reportedly displayed a deep fascination with anthropomorphized animal characters, many of which conveyed themes common within furry subgroups that intersect with fantasy, escapism, and sometimes sexuality. These details matter because they mirror the lifestyle of individuals connected to the Robinson case—particularly Robinson’s roommate, Lance Twiggs, who was similarly involved in the furry scene and reportedly engaged in drug use, black-market hormone treatments, and long online sessions involving ChatGPT. Turning Point USA’s Jack Posobiec has called for Robinson’s trial to be televised to ensure full transparency, arguing that the public must be able to witness the evidence firsthand. “There’s questions coming out about the strange relationship between Lance Twiggs and Tyler Robinson,” Posobiec said. “Drug use, obsessions with ChatGPT, the furry lifestyle, black market HRT.” The convergence of these unusual behavioral details in both the Crooks and Robinson cases has led political commentators to question whether larger cultural or psychological forces played a role in shaping the suspects’ worldviews, ultimately contributing to violence.
Taken together, the Crooks and Robinson cases paint a troubling picture of young men exhibiting signs of severe psychological distress, ideological confusion, and immersion in fringe online communities that may have magnified their struggles. Mental-health professionals note that identity instability, social alienation, and unmoderated digital engagement—especially in insular subcultures—can exacerbate feelings of resentment, delusion, and rage. In Crooks’ case, these factors may have contributed to his radicalization from a frustrated adolescent to a would-be political assassin. For Robinson, similar influences may have shaped the environment in which he ultimately committed a violent crime. As investigators continue probing both cases, many Americans are demanding full transparency and accountability from federal agencies, arguing that clearer communication might restore public trust and prevent future tragedies. Peter Doocy’s reporting, combined with Miranda Devine’s investigative work, has reopened critical questions about what authorities knew, when they knew it, and why certain information appears to have been omitted from early reports. Whether the newly uncovered connections are ultimately proven significant or coincidental, the public’s call for clarity remains loud and justified. These cases underscore the urgent need for openness, oversight, and a deeper understanding of the volatile mixture of mental-health struggles and digital radicalization that continues to shape acts of violence in modern America.
WATCH: