You can spend a lifetime re-litigating the past, measuring what you’ve become against what you didn’t become. You can spend a lifetime debating choices, weighing the importance of choices you made against choices you turned down. You can spend a lifetime bickering, button pushing, waiting around for other people to make choices, for the kink of pouncing.
I wasn’t into “perfectly good.”
I should clarify by saying this: my younger-self wasn’t interested in evaluating schools based on the adult proposition which purports an established hierarchy fosters a more qualitative environment for higher learning.
So my younger-self did what any imaginative child would do, he tinkered with the SAT. He gained acceptance to the University of Florida at Gainesville, which accomplished the main goal of getting as far away as he possibly could from his starting point, so he could reinvent.
In recent days, it’s come to light how the credibility of the SAT is eroding, as kids begin exerting the same pressure I did, all those years ago, letting it be known this test cannot possibly measure their youthfulness, willfulness, creativity, ambition, hunger for bigger things in life or stamina.
The only thing the SAT measures is an aptitude for following rules, which is the main characteristic of prompt bill paying students with prompt bill paying parents who put a premium on punctuality, above all else.
Money buys power. Money buys access. Money buys tutors with Winnebagos. I should know. But money doesn’t buy stamina, which, in all things, is the great equalizer.
Talent is subjective, as sure as athletic prowess is fleeting. Accolades are distracting, as sure as The Oscars are little more than a Hollywood Infomercial. Sexuality is 1-to-1, or 2-to-1, or 2-to-1 with a dildo, depending on what you’re into. But it can all be taken away from you in the blink of a judgmental eye by the cruel intentions of the righteously challenged.
Fuck the Arizona Legislature. Fuck the Russian Parliament. Fuck the arbitrary rules of privileged adults who get-off on smashing imaginative children for no greater purpose than the theft of joy.
If you want to attend Duke by day and make porn by night, good for you. If you’re young enough, if you’re hot enough, if you’re turned-on by putting yourself out there, good for you. What’s the difference, really, between the sexual smut of schtupping endlessly on camera and the intellectual smut of chattering endlessly on CNN?