For weeks, I’ve been mulling over the post you’re about to dive into. Should I be my unapologetically honest self, or slap a layer of sugar on my words to fit into the molasses-drenched commentary of today’s so-called enlightened society? I went with the former, so if you can’t handle it, well, that’s just too damn bad!

These days, I witness things that used to be labeled as utter nonsense now being embraced as everyday behavior, and heaven forbid anyone criticizes them because, apparently, the critics have no idea what the so-called “afflicted” are experiencing. The most ridiculous thing I’ve seen lately is the whole hullabaloo about people being perpetually late. Instead of calling them inconsiderate jerks for making everyone else wait—the folks who can actually read a flipping clock—we now have a brand-new mental health issue dubbed time blindness. What a load of BS.

Whether it’s the 20-year-old kid with his headphones blasting who lets a heavy wooden door slam in the face of an 80-year-old Vietnam veteran—cane clacking against cracked pavement, plastic grocery bags cutting into his trembling fingers—while his frail wife leans on his shoulder, too exhausted even to protest. Or the cluster of Gen-Z teens gathered by the convenience-store window, their laughter high and brittle as they snicker at Granny’s shimmering, synthetic wig—a valiant crown forged from polyester fibers after four brutal rounds of chemo left her hair as thin as her resolve and her savings account nearly empty.

The tragedy is not just the cruelty, but the blinkered self-absorption behind it: today’s young often seem convinced that only their own narrow sphere of concerns has any weight. So if that battle-scarred old man didn’t somehow earn respect from that smart-mouthed punk, why should he bother holding the door? Never mind that the veteran spent eight years crossing rice paddies and dodging mortar rounds, returned home wearing a tarnished Purple Heart, raised four children who in turn raised sixteen grandchildren, testified before Congress about the nightmares of war, and survived seven decades of protests, trials, the Cuban Missile Crisis, and heartbreak that no Instagram story could ever capture. None of that matters when some little punk ass has his world fitting inside a smartphone screen, and his biggest issues are the latest celebrity feud or trending hashtag.

Meanwhile, every tick of the 24-hour news cycle thrives on the sensational: “BREAKING: Jury deliberations continue in the Diddy sexual-assault trial!” flashes the chyron, followed by “Are fireworks safe? Seven missing in California blast!” With every anchor’s perfectly coiffed head and illuminated studio set, they stretch isolated incidents—data points plucked like ripe fruit—into grand narratives to feed silly emotional reactions and insatiable appetites for outrage.

Rather than spend a full 15 minutes on these headlines, as networks did at the top of their news segments last night, here’s what I conclude based on historical records, legal transcripts, and medical studies:

1. Sean “Diddy” Combs: a manipulative, entitled figure whose alleged actions inflict real harm—and whose celebrity status too often shadows the voices of survivors. He deserves nothing but silence from our airwaves while the broader epidemic of sexual assault remains underreported.

2. Fireworks: beautiful, enthralling, lethal. Their danger is no surprise; backyard pyrotechnics have maimed and killed ever since we first sparked gunpowder.

3. Responsibility—and the stark consequences of shirking it—has always been, and will always be, at the heart of every social ill.

That’s what the systemic data indicates, and my 30 second report is done.

You see news, and wasteful attention, confuses the importance of the understanding of responsibility and importance of issues, like being late for meetings!

Reflect for a second on marriage: In an earlier post, I wrote that 40 percent of first marriages end in divorce, while 60–67 percent of second marriages falter, even though marriage arguably ranks as the most consequential choice in a person’s life. The weight of that commitment—two lives intertwined, children whose every tear and triumph hinges on their parents’ unity—ought to demand the utmost seriousness. Yet for many, divorce is a quick formality: a signature on paper rather than a soul-level sacrifice. Rarely does the current generation respect those who have weathered decades of contention, who have bowed to forgiveness and rebuilt trust from fractured promises.

Consider these cold, hard facts: 80 percent of rapists hail from fatherless homes; 70 percent of juveniles in state facilities grew up without a father; 85 percent of incarcerated youth share that same absence; and 71 percent of teen pregnancies involve single parents. These aren’t opinions—they’re statistical echoes of shattered family structures.

So let’s drop the excuses. The frontal lobe—the brain’s headquarters for judgment, planning, and impulse control—doesn’t finish wiring itself until around age 25. In plain English: your asinine little quest for “self-discovery,” your weekend retreats to the Amazon, your soul-searching manifestos on social media—save them for before you say “I do,” before you sign those papers that bind you to another life, before you promise to nurture a child. Because once you make those vows, you better be tethered for life—to every decision, every misstep, every stubborn refusal to grow up. In other words, “Take Frickin Responsibility” and even more importantly respect those who have!

Perfection in marriage doesn’t exist. Those who celebrate decades together are really celebrating forgiveness, sacrifice, the unglamorous art of moving forward in spite of mistakes—traits I’ve watched flourish in my four married daughters, each of whom has honored loyalty and taken responsibility above all. It’s a legacy that traces back to my great-grandfather, born in Düsseldorf in 1879, a man whose own trials of immigration, war, and hardship forged a family tree steeped in character and the ability to sacrifice.

So yes, I’m sorry if you never had role models in your life who demonstrated the character traits of those who take responsibility, but your children and future generations should not suffer because of you. Fix it and know there are those of us who get it and know better.

Well, my rant is almost over but to synthesis it:

We demand that you sacrifice to live up to your responsibilities! We demand that you respect your elders, not only because they’ve seen and likely forgotten more than you will ever know, but because they took responsibility in their lives! We demand that you show up for meetings on time! We demand that you demand respect for yourself, first and foremost—because the real test of maturity is recognizing that life’s greatest responsibilities begin long before you may ready! And lastly, we demand that you start ignoring the BS rained down upon by the moronic media and start focusing on the truly important responsibilities in life!