I'm Too Tired to Think for Myself
And why I'm grateful to be told what I should see and believe
This morning, I stepped outside and noticed snow on the ground.
But shortly afterward, THE ADMINISTRATION informed me that it was actually summertime, and that what I was seeing was Fake Weather. Possibly woke precipitation. Definitely not snow.
So, I went back inside, changed into shorts, applied sunscreen, and apologized to the ground for misinterpreting it.
At lunch, I made myself a peanut butter and honey sandwich. Simple, peaceful, and nutritionally unremarkable.
Unfortunately, THE ADMINISTRATION later clarified that I should be eating a thick steak cooked exclusively in beef tallow, preferably while staring directly at a bald eagle and whispering the word “freedom.”
I threw my sandwich away and drove to the store, ashamed.
In the afternoon, I went to pick up my kids from public school, but then remembered that THE ADMINISTRATION has strongly suggested that public schools are dangerous places where children learn math and empathy.
So, I panicked, peeled out of the parking lot, and briefly considered raising my children via YouTube algorithms and vibes.
That evening, I turned on the TV, hoping to watch something light like a comedian making jokes about how strange everything feels.
But THE ADMINISTRATION had already informed me that comedians are dishonest extremists, so instead I watched the news explain — calmly, and reassuringly — why none of the things I saw today were real.
What a relief.
The Ethical Technologist Weighs In (Reluctantly)
George Orwell (always a buzzkill) wrote:
The Party told you to reject the evidence of your eyes and ears. It was their final, most essential command.
That comes from 1984, a dystopian novel.
You know: fiction.
The fun kind.
The “thank goodness this is imaginary” kind.
And yet.
We are living in a moment where we are repeatedly instructed not to name what we see, not to trust firsthand reporting, not to describe harm too quickly, and not to react until the approved narrative arrives. Even when the basic facts are visible and human lives are involved.
With yesterday’s ICE shooting and killing of Renee Good, here’s what happened today:
Someone I know, someone who doesn’t post about politics too much, chose this moment to say something.
Not about grief.
Not about the woman who was killed.
Not about the lies already being amplified.
Instead, they warned us not to rush to judgment.
To be careful with words like murder.
They criticized Democrats for reacting too quickly.
And I just kept thinking: Why now? Why this? Why you?
That post wasn’t a call for truth.
It felt to me like a performance of restraint, but restraint aimed in only one direction.
They asked us to pause, not out of reverence, but out of deference, to the power that already dominates the narrative.
This is what it means to outsource conscience.
To let your moral compass be calibrated by official statements.
To withhold empathy until it’s algorithmically safe.
Who benefits when I’m told not to trust my own eyes?
Because when thinking is replaced with obedience, and empathy is replaced with messaging discipline, something essential is already lost.
I don’t need to be told what to believe.
I need permission to stay human.
And honestly?
That shouldn’t be controversial.
Well written, as usual. 😍