In the ever-winding labyrinth of political discourse, it seems that we’ve stumbled upon a particularly convoluted corner where logic takes a holiday and emotion runs rampant—welcome to the world of “All Cops Are Bastards,” or ACAB for those who enjoy their acronyms as spicy as they are vague. The latest round of cultural gymnastics has found its latest acrobat, twisting and turning through the rhetorical air as they throw around terms like “Nazis” and “bad cops” with all the finesse of a toddler in a paint factory. And from what we can tell, this verbal circus is here for our entertainment.

Picture this: a table with ten people sitting around it, where two are allegedly Nazis, and the other eight? They apparently couldn’t care less. Now, this speaks volumes about the critical thinking skills—or lack thereof—of those who subscribe to this ideology. Apparently, in their world, if you’re even seated at the same table as a “bad cop” or a “bad person,” then guess what? You’re just as guilty as the folks taking a page out of history’s most notorious playbook. But let’s dive deeper. If we’re to take their logic seriously, would that mean everyone who sits in a restaurant with a known criminal is complicit in their deeds? Can we hold your average diner accountable every time they share a bowl of spaghetti with a guy who once jaywalked?

Then we come to the easy solution proposed: The “best” cop is not a cop at all. Well, that’s convenient! A world where everyone who keeps the peace is summarily dismissed as inherently flawed leaves us with a delightful puzzlement—if all the “good” ones are just choosing not to partake in the profession, who will save us from literal mayhem? One can almost envision a dystopian future where the streets run wild with unchecked chaos—the knights in shiny armor have thrown away their badges in favor of a leisurely brunch at the local bistro, as they sip on pumpkin spice lattes and ponder the deep philosophical implications of their non-cop existence.

The metaphorical thread, however, erupts into confusion faster than a flat tire in a car chase when our self-styled cultural commentators start to gaze into each other’s eyes and ponder, with all the gravitas they can summon, whether their peculiar “crazy eyes” are contagious. Imagine a scenario where batty behavior is a disease; suddenly, we have a horror film on our hands. Forget vaccines—what we need is an eye exam! Perhaps we should just banish all those with “crazy eyes” from society, lest they infect the perfectly normal folk, and form an underground lair where their presence can be managed away from decent society.

But fear not, dear reader, for the reality here is just as muddled as their reasoning. While there’s plenty to critique about law enforcement and systemic issues within it (who could argue otherwise?), wholesale condemnation of every officer is a bit like saying every book is terrible because one was poorly written. It’s lazy, reductive, and frankly unhelpful. Instead of building bridges, or at the very least, having a sane discussion about reforms and community relations, we’re handed the rhetorical equivalent of a Molotov cocktail. Bravo, modern discourse! You really know how to champion dialogue by tossing out nuance like last week’s leftovers.

So the next time someone tries to sweep the good and the bad under the same grimy carpet, let’s take a step back, chuckle at the absurdity, and remember: laughter may be the best medicine, but it won’t cure the intellectual disease of oversimplification. Let us at least be smart about this and keep the dialogues civil, because if left unchecked, who knows what other eye-related theories we’ll be confronted with? And trust me, the world has enough trouble without having to check for “crazy eyes” whenever we head out for our morning coffee.