No one needs another hot take on what happened last night, so if you don’t continue reading I totally get it. Just seconds after Will Smith slapped Chris Rock on live television, social media lit up with jokes, memes, and commentary from across the country and around the globe — an instant internet Rorschach test on everything from comedy, violence, marriage to emotional abuse and chivalry. Is the dress black-and-blue or white-and-gold? Everyone has wifi, so everyone has an opinion and a little machine in their hand to broadcast it. No one paid a lick of attention to anything that happened on that Hollywood stage after 10:30pm ET, because we were all still reeling from — and talking, texting, and tweeting about — the Slap Heard ‘Round the World.

What should have happened after Chris Rock joked about Jada Pinkett Smith’s bald head is her husband, the Best Actor nominee, a mega Hollywood favorite, should have stood up and led the Dolby Theater in a rousing “Boo!” that would have embarrassed Rock and made Smith look like the hero we have always known and believed him to be. Of course, that did not happen. Smith snapped. And what followed the crass joke was so incredibly gross that PR teams around Hollywood will have their hands full all morning dealing with the fallout. They will spin and spin. But the damage is done.

I’m not sure what was more disgusting: witnessing an A-list actor — on the most important night of his career, in the most public forum he has ever been in, who was given the coveted front row so that he could be honored — get up from his seat, walk onto the stage, and smack a comedian and then repeatedly curse him loudly upon his return or the fact that the producers of the show allowed him to take his seat with no consequences, after which 10 million+ people had to watch him be awarded an Oscar — the highest artistic honor in cinema — and then had to listen to him babble and cry (!) about being a “vessel of love,” defending his actions because somehow we should all understand that “love will make you do crazy things,” (Sorry, what?) all while doing a downright manipulative quick re-write of his acceptance speech to narratively tie his behavior to his character’s, likening himself, who just assaulted a colleague, to Richard Williams — whose middle name, by the way, is “Dove” — a man who was beaten up in front of his daughters (we all saw the movie) and chose not to raise his hands to fight back in order to teach them a lesson in humility and grace. All without being played off by the orchestra*, as thousands of peace-loving artists stood up out of their seats and applauded him. (Not everyone, but those who did know who you are.)

*You know who was played off? Jenny Beaven, winner of the Oscar for best costume design, because apparently no one wants to listen to a wardrobe person get wordy.

After the disastrous show, according to reports, Smith went to the Vanity Fair after-party and celebrated his win by proudly holding court, dancing center-stage to “Gettin Jiggy Wit It.” Meanwhile Twitter descended into not Two but Three Americas: one that thinks physical violence is a justifiable response to a classless joke (good for Will!), one that thinks Hollywood finally got exactly what was coming to it and can no longer — and never could — claim the moral high ground (see, I told ya, those liberals are all hypocrites!), and one that is still, twelve hours later, baffled and embarrassed by the act, the speech, the audience response, and the state of our society (WTF just happened?!).

Now we know why and how the last six years in America were what they were. We can watch a person (some might say a narcissistic showman) commit morally questionable acts, with our own eyes, and then when they re-write the story on-the-spot and show no or little shame, we question our own morality (maybe we’re crazy; gaslit much?), while applauding them because we don’t know what else to do. No one wants to step in and say or do what’s right, because we’re all so afraid of shaming, judging, or getting called out on our own shit, so we let this behavior stand and then twist ourselves into pretzels to justify it. After more than a beat to think about it, the voices that call for an appropriate response are drowned out by a media frenzy that clogs all channels. Ratings go up as more eyeballs, clicks, and dollars are focused on debating the morality of it all (this post included). No one pays any consequences, because we are scared to stand up to the rich and powerful, lest we offend our industrial masters. And then tomorrow, we move on.

So gross. So embarrassing to us all.

Most of what we have canceled in “cancel culture” are words. Now we have an assault, which played out in front of our very own eyes. If words are violence, a belief the left has embraced to justify creations like safe spaces on college campuses (not arguing against them, just laying out the logic), is violence also violence? Um, I should think so. It doesn’t matter if it was a slap or a punch. It doesn’t matter that he was a ball of nerves. It doesn’t matter if there is “critical context” we all need about alopecia. Buzz off. We gathered together as a nation and community of moviegoers last night to celebrate movies about rising above your circumstances (King Richard), love overcoming racism and the violence of street gangs (West Side Story), toxic masculinity and its effects on women and children (Power of the Dog), war between neighbors (Belfast), even how to communicate when words fail you (CODA). More than half the Best Picture nominees were about how to overcome our failures to connect, most about violence and its deadly effects on humanity. The context could not be more damning; the standard could not be set higher.

If words are violence, a belief the left has embraced to justify creations like safe spaces on college campuses (not arguing against them, just laying out the logic), is violence also violence? Um, I should think so.

No, Will Smith did not invade Ukraine. Will Smith did not put Trump in office. But the physical act combined with the language that he used to re-frame it — together they are the very toxic masculinity we are all trying so hard to battle in arena after arena in our world today. I did it because I am a “vessel of love.” Holy bullshit, Batman. That is insane.

He should have said, “I’m sorry. Thank you for this award.” And then left the stage and called for his car.

Far more talented and important people have been canceled for far less. Hollywood now has to decide just how woke it is and just how much of the moral high ground it wants to continue to claim. No one expected that this is how Will Smith’s story would develop, but here we are. Your move, Hollywood. The dress is black-and-blue. Always was.