We’re going to start with a hypothetical scenario. Let’s take a 16-year-old girl and call her… Ann O. Ying. Now, Ann is a pretty nice person (despite the blatant pun in her name—blame her parents). She’s sociable, funny and is a killer lacrosse player.

But Ann has a bit of an issue, one that she doesn’t realize is problematic. Let’s say that Ann has started using the word “swag.” It started out harmless, as these things generally do.

In fact, it was kind of funny when she first used the s-word. She put on a deep, clearly sarcastic voice to indicate her distance from any negative connotations attached to those four letters. When she received the inevitable questioning reactions, she would slap on a grin and breezily proclaim that she was merely saying it ironically.

I mean, we get it Ann. You obviously don’t condone the word or its usage in the slightest. But—and here lies the curious predicament—how are you different than people who use the word non-ironically?

Which leads me to my next question: why do we care about the subtext? To the untrained ear, Ann is just as irritating. In fact, even to the trained ear, meaning her friends, she has become an utter nuisance.

This brings on a broader debate about whether intentions matter at all. Everyone says, “It’s the thought that counts,” but nobody knows the thoughts behind someone’s actions except for, well, that person.

To the public, a teen proclaiming, “OMG” as a form of sardonic mockery sounds the same as a teen proclaiming it because they’ve simply confused the real world with their iPhone.

Try slapping someone, laughing and proclaiming, “Come on man! You know me! That’s not how I actually am!” Well it might be a stinging realization—dare I say, a slap in your face—when you realize you’ve become the very monster you fear.

So poke fun, mock, satirize all you want, but be careful not to be a hypocrite. Don’t let the icy, gnarled hands of “swag” or god forbid, a real-life utterance of “LOL” grab a hold on your life. Kill it before it takes over, before you become one of them. Because you’re better than that, dear reader, I know you are.

Now let’s return to our little scenario for a moment. Ms. Ying is a respectable young woman now, about to marry a respectable young man. We’ll call him Reese Pectable. The priest asks her, “Do you take Reese as your lawfully wedded husband?”

“Uh, hashtag YES,” Ann says. Reese sighs, turns and begins to briskly walk down the aisle. He strides past the rows of guests, purposefully ignoring the cries of “I was using it irooonically!!!” and slips out the door, never to be seen again.