Faux Outrage: Confessions of a “Social Media” Justice Warrior

What are we mad about today?

Seriously, what is it? Because we are always mad. Furious even. Every day someone does something so outrageously egregious that we have to run to our computers or smartphones and express our complete and utter displeasure.

So we post . . . we tweet . . . we use memes and gifs. We spew bile and vitriol and we accomplish . . . nothing.

I’m not innocent. I’m one of the worst. I’m sick. One look at my Twitter timeline and you will find a myriad of online skirmishes that I’m currently involved in. Whether I’m wishing death upon anyone who advocates for the Miami HEAT tanking for a better draft slot or I’m picking a fight with a Donald Trump supporter about the latest racist policy being bandied about by the Orangutan-in-Chief, I am constantly waging some kind of social media crusade for the betterment of . . . well I’m not sure.

I am the modern Social Justice Warrior. I am super woke. I am a champion of the downtrodden and the marginalized. I don’t actually DO anything . . . no, but I do express my undying displeasure with all of those who disagree with me. I don’t attend rallies, I don’t protest, I don’t donate to charity or political campaigns. I did vote in the 2018 midterms though. I even voted early. I almost drove away when I saw the line . . . but I stayed and I endured. I’m like Rosa Parks in that respect, except I’m not. I’ve never sacrificed a single creature comfort for anything I actually believe in.

Sometimes I will boycott an artist or business that I feel has crossed the line of my personal morality clause:

  • I will not pay for a Floyd Mayweather fight. (But I will watch at a bar or at someone else’s house who paid for it. I will not chip in, but I will bring food or beverages. I’m woke . . . I’m not rude.)
  • I will not download R. Kelly’s music. (I haven’t downloaded music since the days of Napster. I actually have no idea how to download music. I still use Pandora because I’m confused by Spotify.)
  • I will not buy Gucci. (HA! I can’t afford that shit.)

I still eat at Chick-Fil-A. Yes their stance on LGBTQ rights is troubling, but that spicy chicken deluxe though . . . I’m all for equal rights, but there’s something about that pepper jack cheese and tender chicken breast that makes me not give a damn about anyone but myself.

I would march for Chick-Fil-A sauce and I would do a sit-in for waffle fries, but I won’t drive 30 minutes to attend a rally for the treatment of immigrants at the southern border.

Illustration by: Cedric Allums (@Ac3_B00gie)

I’m a raging hypocrite. I wanted Bret Kavanaugh’s head on a platter but I’m dismayed by the resignation of Al Franken. I think Trump is an absolute pig but I swoon at the silky smooth tone of a Bill Clinton speech. I stayed up all night on election night 2016 rage-tweeting from a hotel room but didn’t take the time to fill out an absentee ballot for Hillary Clinton.

Outrage and activism has become too convenient. We don’t even have to get off of the toilet to have our voices heard. (Everyone on social media between 5:30 am and 7:30 am is posting during a bowel movement by the way.) You no longer have to pick your spots, you can literally be mad about EVERYTHING and you can be mad ALL THE TIME. It’s great!

But really what it’s done is water-down our movements (not the bowel ones . . . that’s the fast food). Our rage has been diluted and those in power know it and benefit from it. They know our outrage can’t survive the news cycle. We have a president who owes his entire political career to our collective ADD.

Remember Access Hollywood?


How about the mocking of a disabled reporter?


I’m really concerned about the huge wealth gap in this country but there’s a new iPhone in Saudi Arabia while Israel invades Darfur and China sexually harassed the governor of Virginia during a Terry Crews film.

So I’ll continue to tweet and post memes on Instagram and do my podcasts while the 1% robs us blind, destroys the environment and bankrupts our future. Because it isn’t bad enough yet. Life is still a little TOO good.

Which is the most depressing part of all this . . . none of us will put our phones down until it’s too late. Until climate change is completely irreversible and we are back in another economic depression because of rampant deregulation and corporate greed. Until the 5G towers go dark due to rolling blackouts stemming from our insatiable use of non-renewable energy sources.

Until I pull into a deserted Chick-Fil-A drive thru and come to the shocking realization that it isn’t Sunday.


Alphonse Sidney (@Alf954) of Light Skinned Opinions and Miami Heat Beat was elected Heat Twitter president without the help of the Russians. Just Ethan and Chris. (Lead illustration by Brian Shultz, or @Shultzman4ever.)

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