A black teenager could have a 200 IQ and find the cure for cancer and white people will still say affirmative action is the reason why they got into college
A white kid could have a 200 IQ and discover the cure for cancer and people will say his alumni daddy is the reason he got into college.
A white person will see a post having nothing to do with them and still find a way to include themselves
And yet, somehow, the original post contains “white people”, so, um, stfu. Also, black people are awesome—white people are awesome—ALL people are awesome. Even you can be awesome — if you learn to stop hating other people.
Normally, I have a policy for this blog… and it is to purely post: my creative endeavors, and answers to questions. Rule #1 is no reblogs (unless sited — and rare). #2: I made a decision long ago to avoid posting my personal opinions and feelings for the longest time — I save it for a secret (not so secret) blog I keep on the side. I sort of want this to be a portfolio of my life and what is me.
But you know, what I am about to post IS largely what is me… so here goes.
I heard a program on NPR’s radiolab this evening—learned of a man named George Price. When I learned about him and his life, I realized that HE was the unnamed person, the hero, the vision that I aspired to become when I was young.
Step 1: Be a brilliant problem solver, drifting to many projects and problems in his time, contributing, but being unknown to most. That is scraping the level of being a hero and universal love. Step 2: Make a brilliant discovery… such as, a mathematical formula that proves through genetics that altuism is a farce, and there is no true selflessness. This research was accepted and talked about by many academics at the time — A LOT. Step 3: Though you’re a person of science, you are upset by this discovery—you set out to disprove YOUR OWN CONCLUSIONS. Step 4: Give and give to strangers, give everything you have… until there’s nothing left. Step 5: You have nothing left to give, not a single pound. You take your own life.
Read about him.
I got chills when I heard about him. My heart’s beating hard even now as I write this. I am so happy to discover that this man ever existed… and I kind of feel like that part of me, which once burned stronger — is alive again.
I hope that, through the rest of my time here, I seize every opportunity to NOT be selfish, no matter who or what I interact with. I hope, I hope, I too can defy my genetic instruction set.
i love the bags under your eyes in the about photo
Best part of that is, I was trying to cover those with heavy makeup. They’re actually a lot “worse.” I suppose my usual exhausted expression can be perceived as cute though. Also, you really shouldn’t go on anon— I think you’re being sarcastic and trying to avoid ramifications of being nasty.