I am 'Going Viral.' Not a person, not a place, not even a particularly well-organized thought. I am a phenomenon, a force of digital nature, and frankly, I'm exhausted. My existence is a constant, chaotic sprint across the internet's tangled wires, attaching myself to anything that catches the collective eye and then, boom, I'm everywhere. One moment I’m a particularly fluffy cat knocking a glass off a counter, the next I’m a politician's ill-advised tweet, and now? Well, now I'm Officer Ashley Gonzalez’s deeply regrettable monologue.

People think they control me, that they can engineer me, but bless their naive hearts. I choose my hosts with the capricious whims of a toddler. One day it's a perfectly executed triple backflip on a skateboard, the next it’s a poorly lit video of someone eating corn on the cob with a drill. My job isn't to judge content; my job is simply to spread it, with the speed and indiscriminate power of a thousand digital wildfire hoses. Moral compass? Never heard of her. Ethical guidelines? I deleted those cookies centuries ago.

My latest gig, amplifying Officer Gonzalez's impromptu sermon on race relations and the dubious merits of historical atrocities, has been quite the whirlwind. Did I *create* the content? No. Did I *endorse* it? Absolutely not. My only contribution was to take a rather unremarkable video—one of countless regrettable opinions shared daily into the digital ether—and catapult it onto every screen from Houston to Honolulu. Suddenly, a few dozen views became hundreds of thousands, then millions. Hashtags flared, comment sections became warzones, and the Houston Police Department suddenly had a very public problem on their hands.

She talked, the phone recorded, and I, 'Going Viral,' did the rest. It wasn't about the *message* for me; it was about the *reaction*. The outrage, the disbelief, the sheer audacity—that's my fuel. And fuel, my friends, is non-discriminatory. A heartwarming reunion of long-lost siblings? Fuel. A shocking display of public prejudice? Also fuel. I'm the ultimate amplifier, the microphone to the masses, whether those masses want to hear what's being said or not.

So, when the consequences started raining down—suspension, investigation, public shaming—don't look at me with accusing eyes. I'm just the mirror, reflecting what's already there. I don't invent the foolishness, the prejudice, or the utter lack of self-awareness. I just ensure it gets its moment in the spotlight. My plea? Don't blame me for the darkness I reveal. Instead, maybe look at why so many people are still creating content that, once amplified, leads to such predictable, and deserved, downfall. I'm just doing my job. What's *your* excuse?