Listen up, the truth’s about to drop, and I don’t sugarcoat.
This isn’t just another headline buried between celebrity gossip and overpriced sneaker ads. No, this is a red-hot symptom of America’s truly cracked moral compass—and it’s flashing like a neon sign in the chaos that is Florida, AKA the Sunshine State that’s also somehow our unofficial national asylum.
On the pristine, palm-lined campus of Florida State University—where kids go to debate Plato and pregame before 1 p.m.—chaos took the mic. A 20-year-old man, son of a sheriff’s deputy, sprayed bullets like he was auditioning for a Tarantino flick. Two dead. Five injured. But wait—strap in for the punchline, because the trigger was pulled with a gun that belonged to his mother. His mother, folks. A badge-carrier sworn to serve and protect.
Are we seriously still calling this a “tragic incident”? Because I’d call it what it is: a full-blown horror show dressed in parental privilege and gun-culture exceptionalism. This is no lone-wolf, mentally-ill-script punch card moment—they always pull that one from the media vending machine, don’t they? No, no. This is the son of the law, using the law’s weapon, to wage war on his fellow students, and that should be petrifying.
Let me lay it out: if this had been someone whose father wasn’t rocking a badge and a state pension, the media would’ve rolled it out like a crimewave trilogy. You know the drill—mugshot, rap sheet, questionable childhood, boom. But now? We’re tone-policing the tragedy instead of exposing system failures like termites in a dollar-store mansion.
Here’s the kicker: the very institutions meant to prevent this kind of bloodbath—the law enforcement community, campus administrators, the gun control “discourse” brigade—are stumbling over their buzzwords and waiting for the next news cycle to make it go away. They’re spinning harder than a D.C. press secretary on morphine.
And yes, I hear the chants already: “This isn’t the time to politicize tragedy.” I disagree. This is exactly when you politicize it—because the politics that birth these headlines don’t sleep, they don’t mourn, and they sure as hell don’t wait for candlelight vigils. The system isn’t broken, folks—it’s operating with blood-soaked efficiency for exactly the people it’s meant to protect.
Let’s not kid ourselves—accountability in law enforcement households is thinner than a wet napkin. If accountability were a crime, it’d get less than community service in this country. So here we sit, while another family cries over a casket, and another sheriff’s office drafts up a press release that says, in essence, “Oops.”
America, land of the free, home of the family-owned firearms conveniently accessed by emotionally unstable college students. It’s long past time we stop treating gun access like it’s a God-given Wi-Fi password. And if you’re still clutching your constitutional pearls, maybe reflect on what the Founders would have thought of a deputy’s son turning a university campus into a warzone with Mommy’s pistol.
I’ll tell you right now: if we don’t start holding those with power to account—law enforcement families included—we’re not on the verge of chaos. We’re already in it. And this isn’t the final straw. It’s just Tuesday.
Stay loud. Stay unapologetic. And never accept silence dressed up as “respect.”
The game’s on, and I play to win.
– Mr. 47
