The Blarney Stone of Deception: Uncovering the Truth Behind Fake Hate Crimes
Céad mile fáilte, me boyos! I’m Ryan "Dickie" Thompson, and I’ve got a bone to pick with the emotional stampedes that sweep the nation. Not just the ones on the left or the right, but the ones that magically appear whenever a bureaucracy needs a distraction or a movement needs a fresh martyr. You see, I’ve been circling back to the topic of fake hate crimes, and I’ve come to realize that the modern outrage machine runs on the same fuel: story first, evidence later, and shame for anyone who dares to ask questions.
Now, I know what you’re thinkin’, "Dickie, what’s the big deal about fake hate crimes?" Well, me friends, it’s quite simple really. Fake hate crimes are more than just lies; they’re social weapons, used to leverage power, attention, and influence. And the worst part is, they often rely on selective footage, edited to fit a narrative, rather than the truth. As Matt Walsh so bluntly put it, "cars are not protest signs." If you want to protest, go ahead and hold a sign, march, sue, petition, or vote. But don’t use a vehicle to obstruct, surround, or box in agents during an arrest scene, or you’re inviting escalation.
The case of Renee Good is a perfect example of this. The initial reporting was vague, with demands for moral certainty and punishment for anyone who asked for details. But as the evidence came to light, the narrative began to unravel. The video footage showed a moving vehicle, an officer in front of it, and a tense arrest scene. It’s a lethal-force scenario, plain and simple. You can argue intent all day, but you can’t argue physics.
The "information vacuum" trick is a clever tactic used to keep the story alive. It’s a simple formula: keep the story vague, demand moral certainty, punish anyone who asks for details, and release evidence later, after the public has already picked a side. It’s a playbook that’s been used time and time again, from the Jussie Smollett case to the SUNY Albany fabricated attack. The payoff is huge: national media attention, institutional apologies, fundraisers, firings, policy changes, and social status. And then, of course, the correction comes later, after the mob has gotten its dopamine fix and wandered off.
The George Floyd case is another example of how the truth can be distorted to fit a narrative. The initial story was built on a single angle, with context delayed, and later footage complicated what people were sold. The official medical examiner ruling listed restraint and neck compression as part of the causal chain, but also listed fentanyl intoxication and methamphetamine use as significant conditions. It’s a messy reality that doesn’t fit neatly into a slogan.
So, what can we learn from all this? Well, me friends, the first lesson is that the first headline is usually a pitch, not a verdict. Don’t form your worldview based on the first chyron; it’s likely to be a sales pitch. The second lesson is that fake hate crimes thrive in evidence droughts. No details, all outrage, is the sweet spot. The third lesson is that video doesn’t end arguments, but it exposes lazy lies. People can still argue about what they saw, but it’s harder to invent a whole new reality.
The fourth lesson is that cars are weapons when you use them like weapons. You don’t get to "oops" your way through a confrontation with armed agents and pretend it’s just vibes. The fifth lesson is that medical complexity gets flattened into slogans on purpose. The Floyd case is the clearest example of this. Reality got reduced to a chant. The sixth lesson is that corrections never go as viral as accusations. That’s why fake hate crimes are profitable in attention terms. And the seventh lesson is that if you want freedom, demand proof from everyone, including the state, activists, and "your side."
In conclusion, me boyos, the next time you see a headline that screams "hate crime," take a step back and remember the lessons of Renee Good and George Floyd. Don’t be a mark for the outrage machine. Demand proof, demand transparency, and don’t be afraid to ask questions. As I always say, "no footage, no outrage." You can get my attention without evidence, you can get my sympathy without evidence, but you don’t get my certainty without evidence. So, let’s all take a deep breath, put on our thinking caps, and remember that the truth is often messy and complex. Sláinte, me friends!
The 7 Brutal Lessons:
- The first headline is usually a pitch, not a verdict: Don’t form your worldview based on the first chyron; it’s likely to be a sales pitch.
- Fake hate crimes thrive in evidence droughts: No details, all outrage, is the sweet spot.
- Video doesn’t end arguments, but it exposes lazy lies: People can still argue about what they saw, but it’s harder to invent a whole new reality.
- Cars are weapons when you use them like weapons: You don’t get to "oops" your way through a confrontation with armed agents and pretend it’s just vibes.
- Medical complexity gets flattened into slogans on purpose: The Floyd case is the clearest example of this. Reality got reduced to a chant.
- Corrections never go as viral as accusations: That’s why fake hate crimes are profitable in attention terms.
- If you want freedom, demand proof from everyone: Including the state, activists, and "your side."
The Rule That Will Save Your Brain in 2026: No footage, no outrage. You can get my attention without evidence, you can get my sympathy without evidence, but you don’t get my certainty without evidence.
