WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE, ON DOPE?

 

WHAT ARE YOU PEOPLE, ON DOPE?

Not a rhetorical inquiry. I’m asking because nothing else explains the absolute confidence people have while knowing jack shit.

Every damn time something goes sideways, social media turns into a seance. Suddenly everyone’s a mind reader. Everyone knows intent. Everyone knows what someone “meant,” what someone “felt,” what someone “would have done if,” all from a blurry clip, zero context, and a political boner that’s been waiting for a body to attach itself to.

God help you if you say, “Maybe slow down.”

Nope. Can’t do that. Slowing down ruins the rush. The outrage high. The likes. The moral cosplay.

Here’s a fact that doesn’t care about your politics, intent is not magic armor. You don’t get to act like an idiot in a high-risk situation and then demand the world treat you like a misunderstood poet. Actions matter. Behavior matters. Escalation matters. Reality matters.

This fantasy that professionals in volatile situations are supposed to pause, reflect, consult your Twitter thread, and then respond with perfect restraint while someone else adds chaos to the mix is pure bullshit. That’s not how the real world works. That’s how people who’ve never been in one of those moments wish it worked.

Here’s another thing people don’t like hearing, not every death is a murder, and not every tragedy has a villain. Sometimes it’s a collision of bad decisions, bad timing, and human limits. Sometimes nobody “wins.” Sometimes everyone loses.

But that doesn’t play well online, does it?

So instead, we get the same routine. Weaponized grief. Performative certainty. People climbing onto a fresh grave to shout their talking points like it’s open mic night. No facts required. Just vibes and rage.

The most insulting part is the way accountability magically disappears for one side of the interaction. As if agency just evaporates the moment someone becomes useful to a narrative. As if personal responsibility is optional if your cause is fashionable.

That’s not compassion. That’s cowardice dressed up as virtue.

Yes, a human being died. That should sober people up. Instead, it seems to make them dumber. Louder. More reckless with the truth. Death becomes content. A prop. A chance to score points and move on to the next pile of steaming outrage by Tuesday.

Meanwhile, real people are left to clean it up. Families. First responders. Everyone who has to live with the aftermath long after the hashtags rot.

So let’s be brutally honest, New England honest:

If you’ve never had to make a split-second decision with incomplete information, shut the hell up about how easy it would’ve been.

If you think danger politely announces itself, you’re living in a fantasy.

If you believe screaming “intent” erases consequences, you’re confusing morality with magic.

This isn’t about being heartless. It’s about being grown.

The world is messy. Humans aren't perfect. Chaos doesn’t give two shits about your righteousness. Pretending otherwise doesn’t make you enlightened, it makes you intellectually retarded.

So yeah. I’ll ask it again, slower this time:

What are you people on?

Because it sure as hell isn’t reality.

Brian Wilson: The Bipartisan Patriot.