Ignorance with confidence is nitroglycerin in a clown car. They slam the gas, swear they own the road, and when the wreckage burns, they call it a parade. The terrifying part isn’t the crash — it’s that the rest of us are strapped in the backseat, duct-taped to the seats, nodding along to the circus music. And the fools? They don’t die — they take a bow.