A Wake for the Woke

When the Movement Became Sheep to the Slaughter

We are gathered here today to mourn the passing of the movement loved by those who called themselves woke.

Y’all lived large. Judged people harshly—like you were auditioning for a political reality show. America’s Next Top Moral Authority. Move over Tyra Banks—Joy Reid needs a job.

In the end, you’re being judged the harshest. Not just by me. #WalkawayMovement

Y’all’s weak, performative righteousness—your barometer for everyone else’s language—has finally circled back to bite you in the ass. The hypocrisy of your exalted inhumanity is staggering. Almost impressive in its monstrosity.

Watching you cheer on ideologies that would destroy you is more terrifying than seeing The Texas Chainsaw Massacre for the first time.

Defending people who would rape, then kill your sister and throw your gay bestie off a roof—go ahead, make that make sense. Try it. I’ll wait.

Quite the legacy you’ve earned. Hateful, self-hating, haters.

Before woke became a badge you wore—or flaunted like a designer handbag—it was supposed to mean something. It had a point.

Awareness. Thoughtfulness. A willingness to question.

[SIDEBAR] The term "woke" originated within Black American vernacular in the early-to-mid 20th century, long before it became a mainstream political term. Its original context was a necessary survival tactic and a call to vigilance regarding systemic racism and social injustice.

Somewhere along the way, y’all white liberals usurped the expression and turned it into performative hullabaloo. Moral clarity gone completely off the rails.

Moral superiority claimed by so many people who haven’t earned a seat at any table—on record or otherwise. You settle for the pathology of becoming social media climbers.

Every belief broadcast like it mattered beyond your own self-aggrandizement. Curated outrage. Weaponized hyperbole. All aimed at people you claimed to protect. And in the process, you DEI’d yourselves into a full-blown tizzy. Truth was never the goal.

Being seen was.
Being heard was.
Like sheep desperate for a flock—any flock—and this woke one walked straight off the cliff of relevance, importance, and sanity.

This is your wake. Enjoy it.

Look, I’m not here to judge you. I was right there with y’all—before it became this bad-vibes performance.

Back in 2010, I wrote a piece called The End of Political Correctness. The nonsense was already obvious. The early signs were clear as a bell: language policing, careful phrasing, the quiet pressure to say the “right” thing instead of the honest thing.

That wasn’t the end. It was the beginning.

Remember when Politically Incorrect got taken off the air after 9/11? That should have been the warning. And now? Here we are.

I saw a TikTok schmuck calmly explaining why Jews everywhere were essentially fair game for retaliation. Not justified—of course not. That would sound too crude. Just… explained. Contextualized.

[SIDEBAR] I didn’t set out to write about antisemitism. It just kept showing up wherever the logic fell apart and the truth was out there. At every turn.

We’ve gone from condemning violence to curating empathy. Some people get context. Others get silenced. There’s a reason the phrase “sheep to the slaughter” exists. It’s not about cruelty. It’s about what happens when people stop questioning and start moving in one direction—confident, certain, and completely unchallenged and frankly, unhinged.

No one likes to believe they’re the sheep. They’re busy accusing everyone else of what they’re guilty of. That’s the point. This doesn’t feel like awareness anymore.

It feels like herd mentality with different branding. At some point, thinking got replaced with following—and then enforcing. The system doesn’t reject disagreement. It eliminates it. The narrative has to be on point at all times.

Take the Oscars—once a joyful, global shared experience. Now it feels like a closed loop. A performance for the same crowd, getting smaller and less important every year.

You don’t lose relevance all at once. It erodes. Until fewer people care. Until the voices start sounding less influential—and more insufferable. And then you’re left with the reality: The people we revered become annoying. The mouthpieces sound embarrassingly irksome.

So, there’s only one thing left to do. Shut them down, shut them up, and end their tyrannical reign—propagated by vomitous influencers and the legacy media, who have proven to be feckless, inaccurate, libel peddlers.

If you haven’t read or listened to my book, please do.

Click here.

Or click here.