The Oklahoma State Capital

There’s a notable observation frequently proffered by noted podcaster—and creator of the best comic strip of all time—Scott Adams. He suggests that whenever one hears a claim that is “too spot-on,” that claim should be treated as dubious.

And over the course of the last five days, Oklahoma's leftists, politicians, and the corporate media—almost all of whom have various degrees of the virus known as Ryan Walters Derangement Syndrome(WDS)—have frenzied in their latest bout of WDS insanity: “pornography appeared on a television during an executive session held in Oklahoma Education Superintendent Ryan Walters’ office.”

The story has gone viral among those eager to feed their confirmation bias: the state’s foremost promoter of traditional values and a Bible-promoter at that, in the ultimate spate of poetic justice, caught in private behavior that contradicts his public stance. It reads like something pulled straight from the mind of a hackneyed novelist in the pre-AI era—back when creativity depended solely on the limitations of the human mind.

But it’s here where Adams’ wisdom once again appears to have proven prescient: If it’s too spot-on, then it’s probably not true.

Regular readers will know that I am fully white-pilled about the prospect of independent media transforming the media landscape—cutting through the corporate media groupthink and providing Oklahomans with the one thing so often missing in mainstream reporting: the truth.

So it was with great satisfaction earlier this week when an independent media journalist appeared to accomplish the debunking of what I suspect we’ll soon be able to moniker as the great Department of Education Porn Hoax of 2025.

If that’s truly the case, then this work needs to be recognized. Perhaps a new initiative to award the best acts of local independent journalism is in order—and I would suggest that this journalist might just be a deserving first recipient.

And perhaps just as importantly, this piece of journalism has potentially exposed how—from the governor down—this state is, for all intents and purposes, being run by children; children who’ve lost all perspective of wisdom, good judgment, and the time-honored processes and traditions that, if followed, would have spared Oklahoma from tremendous embarrassment—not because of anything done by the superintendent of education, but because of the cumulative failures of just about everyone else: from the board members, to the governor who appointed them, to the foolish legislators who piled on, to the lazy, incurious media whose hunger for a narrative led them to push a story that—so far as I can tell—isn’t grounded in reality.

It’s especially ironic coming from a governor and legislators who’ve had no problem handing out millions in taxpayer commitments to recruit businesses—who, just this year, signed off on up to $255 million in giveaways to a foreign corporation from the United Arab Emirates. They filed the proposal on a weekend and pushed it through the House by Tuesday, giving the people of Oklahoma virtually no time to even know it was happening. And yet, those same officials, with their reckless bandwagon-jumping over this single manufactured controversy, have—at least in my view—inflicted far more damage to this state, a state whose people they are supposed to serve, not embarrass.

And so, it’s my suggestion that any hope these children have of someday growing into adults worthy of the mantle of leadership depends on learning the lesson of what will likely be remembered as the great Department of Education Porn Hoax of 2025.

To help them remember, I’d propose that every one of their office walls display the following picture—henceforth and forever—as a constant reminder of this absurd episode.

The “incident” reportedly occurred—likely at the top of the 1pm hour—last Thursday, as the Board of Education prepared to wind down its lengthy executive session. The meeting was held in the superintendent’s L-shaped office, at a conference table located around a corner and importantly, a significant distance from a television mounted on a far wall. The TV, according to reports, was angled in such a way that only a limited number of attendees could see it—visible to very few participants.

In an interview with NonDoc.com—a text now preserved for all time through an archive service—two board members appointed by Oklahoma Governor Kevin Stitt, Becky Carson and Ryan Deatherage, described what they claimed to have seen on the television screen.

“While both board members described the footage as ‘retro’ in nature and not involving sexual intercourse, Deatherage recalled seeing multiple nude women on the screen and some sort of ‘chiropractic table.’”

Carson reportedly interrupted the meeting to express her concerns about the footage to Walters, who located the remote, turned off the TV, and continued the meeting. He later noted that the television had been tuned to Fox News, as is standard practice in that office. By the time he saw the screen, nothing appeared out of the ordinary, so he turned it off and simply moved on with the business of the board.

Most readers are by now familiar with the uproar that followed. Rather than addressing the matter through the appropriate internal channels—processes specifically designed to investigate such incidents and resolve potential misunderstandings before they result in public embarrassment to all involved—the two board members emerged from the executive session and went to the press, publicly denouncing what they claimed was a shocking display in the superintendent’s office.

From there, the political class and the corporate media went into a frenzy. And now—regardless of how the facts ultimately play out—the damage is done. The story has spread nationwide across social media, to the delight of those eager to mock traditional values and to disparage Oklahoma, and who will burn the public education system to the ground, just to get in one good scratch of their WDS.

But it was into this gap that the independent media stepped.

While the state's corporate media, unsurprisingly, went full-bore down the bias-confirming WDS insanity path, the independent media brought something far more rare: the curiosity of a real journalist and the work ethic to pursue the truth.

And it wasn’t hard to do real journalism.

Simply querying those who routinely have access to the facility was enough to determine that Fox News was frequently displayed on the department’s televisions; that the television in Walters’ office was indeed at a distance and angle from where the board member likely would have been seated and that the TV isn’t regularly used for presentations or for any regular utility other than Fox News.

At that point, the question became one of logistics: could independent media piece together the known facts to form the most likely explanation—a coherent hypothesis that made sense of what actually occurred?

NonDoc’s report provided a vital clue: it indicated that the footage appeared as the executive session was wrapping up and the board was considering its final item. Meanwhile, the Board of Education’s live Facebook feed allowed journalists to pinpoint the approximate time the board returned from executive session.

This allowed the analysis to focus on a sharply defined window of time. From there, it was simply a matter of reviewing the Fox News feed from that day to identify the likely moment when the network might have broadcast footage that, in some respect, matched the board member’s description.

And there it was—courtesy of the Internet Archive—a quick, 30 second clip, of the likely offending footage. Right at the top of the 1:00 hour, approximately thirty minutes before the Board returned from executive session, as the second hour of America Reports began: vintage—perhaps even “retro”—footage of wrestler Hulk Hogan, with long bleached-blond hair flowing and yellow-colored wrestling shorts that, from a distance and at the right angle, might have appeared to fade into skin tone. He was engaged in battle with another bleach-haired wrestler and was seen dropping to the white canvas of the wrestling ring—a surface that, again from a distance and angle, could perhaps be mistaken for a "chiropractic table."

Again, per NonDoc: "While both board members described the footage as 'retro' in nature but not involving sexual intercourse, Deatherage recalled seeing multiple nude women on the screen and some sort of 'chiropractic table.'"

It’s easy to see how this was just enough for the judgmental, WDS-predisposed, to jump to conclusions. As Scott Adams might put it, the 30-second clip was the perfect “too-spot-on” narrative bait: that somehow, pornography had found its way into the office of the state’s most outspoken defender of traditional values—the man who’s put his own reputation on the line to resist the wave of woke concepts that are distracting from the core mission of education and absolutely tanking the system’s ability to... educate.

As quickly as the Hogan teaser took to the screen, it disappeared. It was simply a top-of-the-hour teaser—not a story—and the broadcast immediately pivoted to the normal news lineup, thus explaining why Walters, by the time he found the remote and got to the TV, saw nothing concerning.

Now, most Oklahomans—relying on time proven Oklahoma common sense—will recognize a simple truth: the simplest explanation is usually the correct one. And most readers will no doubt agree that this is, in fact, the most plausible explanation. Had due process been followed, it could have been discovered well before the matter went public—sparing everyone involved a great deal of embarrassment.

And that embarrassment is no indictment of Walters. It is however an indictment that belongs almost entirely to the chorus of government officials who foolishly—and prematurely—weighed in.

The first indictment falls squarely on the board members. Had they acted professionally, they would have addressed the issue directly with Walters. If still unsatisfied, they could have involved the department’s internal human resources—or escalated it to OMES, the state’s shared services agency—which, with its shared services Human Resources functionality is fully equipped to find the truth and adjudicate such matters discreetly and effectively, according to well-established state policies, without public involvement or embarrassment for those involved.

Only at that point, if the board members had reason to believe the system was somehow conspiring to cover up the truth would public attention have been appropriate. But if the independent media’s analysis is correct, human resources would have quickly confirmed that the television was tuned to Fox News and not subscribed to any adult content—making the entire incident almost certainly a misunderstanding.

Next, this is a complete indictment of Oklahoma Governor Kevin Stitt. Stitt appointed these clearly WDS-predisposed board members, and he made the mistake of standing by them when asked about this matter. He, to his great discredit, owns this now.

Had the governor been a professional, he would have immediately recognized that the board members should have followed the state’s well-established human services process before going public. Given the toxic nature of Walters Derangement Syndrome—a condition now clearly infecting Stitt himself—a rush to judgment was not just possible, but likely. And he, of all people, should have known that. After all, it was Stitt Derangement Syndrome that gave birth to Walters Derangement Syndrome. As governor, he should have understood that there are professional, best-practice procedures in place for a reason—and that following them could have prevented this entire fiasco.

In a future article, we will examine the great damage done to Stitt’s effectiveness due to his recent acquisition of WDS, and how this disease led him to these regrettable actions—undercutting almost any credibility with his natural base of support, the grassroots. Because of this, when the Legislature went tribal late in session and overrode many of Stitt’s vetoes—many of which were great, righteous vetoes—and when Stitt threatened to endorse against those legislators, they simply shrugged off the threat. And with good reason: Stitt has devalued his own endorsement to the point that it will do more harm than good. As someone who felt that, for much of his term, Stitt was the only adult in a room full of children—and who is extremely grateful for Stitt’s mostly spot-on actions during COVID—I hate to see this. And I am determined to use it as a cautionary tale for future high-flying officeholders who completely self-destruct after achieving initial, great success.

Then of course, legislative leadership is also indicted—including House Speaker Kyle Hilbert, who foolishly jumped in with a call for an investigation, thus allowing the corporate media to talk about the "bipartisan" calls for Walters to be investigated. Likewise, the legislative lemmings who took to social media to share Hilbert’s call—for them, this will not age well. Some are no doubt already deleting those posts, hopeful that screenshots and archiving services haven’t forever preserved their great error in judgment.

Notably, Hilbert went out in front on this one, on his own. That’s much different from his predecessor, Charles McCall, who, in my view, was very skillful at having his underling Mark McBride take the heat for Walters Derangement Syndrome. And thus, now as McCall campaigns for governor, he’s less likely to have to answer for the attacks on Walters that were a defining characteristic of the House during his time as speaker.

The speed at which this story is likely to disappear—not unlike the top-of-the-hour Fox News teaser—will almost certainly tempt those childish government leaders to pretend the past few days never happened. And because of that, they likely won’t learn anything from this mistake.

So, to the members of the Board of Education, Stitt, Hilbert, Paxton, and all the lemmings—I would suggest that if they truly want to remember this lesson, they never forget the Hulkster. His image should become a permanent fixture in their office décor, a lasting reminder of those few hot days in late July of 2025, when the politicians of Oklahoma collectively lost their minds, burned the house down, and did untold damage to the very state—and people—they were elected to serve.

And check out the work of Domesticated Warrior on Substack. It’s a must-follow for anyone who believes in the power of independent media—and in the pursuit of truth.