The Fastest Way to Hold Reckless Judges Accountable (Most Americans Skip This Step)

Why Outrage Isn’t Enough Anymore and the One Thing Regular People Can Do Today...

How many bodies does it take before we riot?

Seriously. What’s the number?
Ten? Fifty? A hundred charred and beaten and left behind while judges sip soy lattes and pat themselves on the back for “compassion”?

Because here’s the scene from today’s American horror story:
A man with forty-eight priors gets arrest number forty-nine.
He walks out of court like he’s got a Groupon for freedom, courtesy of Judge Teresa Molina-Gonzalez.
Two days later?
He lights a woman on fire.

Not metaphorically. Not symbolically.
LITERALLY.
Fire. Flames. Screams.
While the rest of us sit in silence like cowards, waiting for our turn to become kindling in the system’s social experiment.

Criminals Gone Wild: Chapter 49

Let’s play Mad Libs: A man with 48 prior arrests gets picked up again. Prosecutors beg the judge to detain him. Judge says, “Nah, he’s probably just misunderstood.” Releases him on electronic monitoring. Days later? He torches an innocent woman like it’s an Olympic audition for arson.

Name of the game this round? Judge Teresa Molina-Gonzalez. Criminal of the Day? Lawrence Reed. Crime count? Forty-nine. That’s four-nine. As in FORTY-FREAKING-NINE.

And the result? Another innocent person becomes collateral damage in our woke-ified justice system that treats criminals like victims and victims like footnotes.

So let me get this straight.
A man with forty-eight priors walks into a courtroom. The prosecution sounds the alarm; detain him. The judge glances at his rap sheet like it’s a CVS receipt and says, “Electronic monitoring should do the trick.”

Two days later? BOOM. Human fireball.

Where are the consequences?
Where’s the outrage?
Why aren’t the streets jammed with people dumping metaphorical tea into every body of water from the Hudson to the Mississippi?

You want the truth? We’ve gotten used to this crap.
We’ve normalized the absurd.
We read stories like this and go, “Oh, another one,” like we’re watching a rerun of Criminal Minds.

Well guess what, this ain’t fiction.
This ain’t Netflix.
This is real blood on the streets. Real lives ruined. Real people set on fire because a judge wanted to prove how enlightened she is.

So here’s my ask.
Wake the hell up.
Stop pretending this is just bad luck.
This is policy. This is philosophy. This is ideology dressed up in a black robe, torching your city one “compassionate” ruling at a time.

Judge Molina-Gonzalez, you don’t get to walk away from this with your robes clean.
You let him out.
You overruled the prosecutors.
And now someone’s daughter is in a hospital burn unit.

Tell me I’m wrong.
Tell me this wasn’t preventable.
Tell me we’re not DOOMED if this keeps up.

Forty-nine arrests.
And still on the street.

If you’re not mad yet, check your pulse.
And maybe your damn priorities.

Because this isn’t justice. It’s a bonfire. And the American people are the kindling.

And here’s the part that really cooks my bacon:

This judge still has a job.
The politicians are still tweeting about “equity.”
And the rest of us are stuck paying taxes to fund the flamethrower.

This didn’t “just happen.”
It was engineered.
By policies.
By people.
By cowards in robes and suits and think tanks who couldn’t survive five minutes in the neighborhoods they’re burning down with their benevolent idiocy.

You want change?
Then start naming names.
Start showing up.
Start demanding accountability with the same fire they’re unleashing on the streets.

Because until these judges are held responsible
Until this revolving-door justice system gets ripped off the hinges
Until we decide enough is ENOUGH

It’s not just the criminals who are running wild
It’s the system that’s gone feral.

And we’re the ones getting burned.