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Everybody’s Stupid, CLXXXIX

How often do you give your opinion on things that you either don’t know much or don’t care about? A lot of misinformation is promulgated by people who’re respected or presumably informed that time and again don’t know what the fuck they’re talking about. Usual suspects, don’t worry, I won’t specify and hurt your feelings, again. If you’re uninformed or unconcerned about something but you give your opinion anyway, said opinion isn’t or is only loosely based on facts, right? And if you’re in a position where your perspectives are sometimes or oftentimes perceived as informative and authoritative, people who also don’t know or don’t care about the subjects that you give your opinions on are inclined to assume that you likely know what you’re talking about. So, people who adopt the baseless opinions disseminated by popular or public figures spread said opinions to other uneducated and unenlightened people, and that’s generally how misinformation becomes popularized. Ultimately, shutting the fuck up about things that you don’t know or don’t care about, especially when you’re in a position of influence, would help minimize the mushrooming of misinformation. Does shutting the fuck up make you feel soft, submissive, or spiritless? In my opinion, not only do most people talk too much, but talking is many times used as a ruse to make speakers seem more dominant than they actually are, and as a defense mechanism when their fighting spirit is absent. In other words, soft, submissive, and spiritless people sometimes speak to show signs of strength and security, even when those things aren’t present. When you aren’t teaching, what does talking mean—what purpose does it serve? And by teaching, I mean informing or instructing. Even the language of cable news, something that is supposed to be taken seriously, has an entertainment factor to it. I could go in a hundred different directions here, but I’ll say this, if you’re speaking more than you’re thinking, you’re probably misleading and misinforming most of the time. How often does my writing make you self-conscious? Again, before I understood that my curiosity about human psychology was evoked by my deep empathy for honest and helpless humans, I believed that my aversion to hateful and hollow-hearted humans prevented me from being empathetic. Many of us appreciate that negative things have a far more impactful emotional and psychological consequence than positive things, correct? I was watching comedian Tony Baker’s “Verbal Cardio” podcast earlier, and he asserted that people should “take tabs” on and “note” their blessings instead of fixating on negative things, and I concur. I spent years believing that I was too unsympathetic to be empathetic while simultaneously racking my brain to figure out why people do what they do and why they are who they are, and it was because I was mostly focused on harmful and hurtful humans. My empathy comes in consistently contemplating what I would do if I were faced with other people’s circumstances. And because happy and honorable humans are those who find ways to circumvent negativity and persevere through adversity, they’re easy to figure out—which causes me to focus my rumination on the negative. On a scale of one to ten, with ten being the maximum level of difficulty, how difficult do you think it is to be happy? If you believe that “hurt people hurt people,” what percentage of the aforementioned harmful and hurtful humans do you believe have trauma? Again, I view trauma as indelible bad memories that people convince themselves are character-defining. Simply put, if you define yourself by past experiences that you believe diminish your value, and you’re constantly reminding yourself why you’ll never be worthy of happiness because of your disheartening experiences, you’ll never be happy because you’re convincing yourself of that. If that applies to you, I bet I can offer you a little relief with a simple question. How many of your perspectives on things are unique or self-determined? We live in a world where motherfuckers are so entitled that they’ve convinced themselves that convincing others to accept their stupid-ass personal perspectives as law isn’t oppressing. What does that mean to you?

Diddy ain’t the only “Diddy,” duh! I don’t have much to say about Diddy because we all know that he did it, and he’s finally about to pay the piper. However, I have another crazy story that I was never going to tell because it’s a little out there, but fuck it. So, after listening to LL Cool J’s verse on the “Flava in Ya Ear” remix not too long ago, I concluded that he’s alluding to rumors of then “Puff Daddy” engaging in “skeevy” activities with other men. So, I decided to point that out in a tweet circa 2022, tagging both Diddy and LL Cool J in the tweet. I actually tweeted it a few times over a few months because I thought it was hilarious. Again, I’m an asshole. Well, in December of 2022, I ordered a bunch of candy from Amazon, and the package arrived a couple days later than it was supposed to. Additionally, when I received the package, the box was busted open and a pack of the Hershey’s chocolate miniatures that I’d bought had seemingly been cut open. The opening in the plastic was too clean to be a tear. I caught up with the mail lady, a middle-aged black woman, before she made it back to her truck and asked her what happened. She replied, “oh, I dropped the box,” and went on about her business. Part of me didn’t want to eat the candy, but I bought the shit because I wanted it. So, I reported the damaged delivery to Amazon, got a refund, and let the candy sit for a few days before deciding whether or not to eat it. Well, after eating a decent portion of the chocolates, I noticed that I started getting heart palpitations out of the blue. At the time, I was grieving a loss, so my anxiety had been elevated since the beginning of the year. Yet, believe it or not, I actually smelled a faint chemical-like scent emitting from the bag of candy, but I ignored it. I’m not saying that Diddy tried to take me out, but he’s evidently a wild boy! That story is one hundred percent true. What’s more, I haven’t seen that mail lady since. Truth can be stranger than fiction. Did I tell y’all about the time niggas had a bitch follow me in Walmart and record me as she stalked me? Yeah, I think I got that one off already. Diverging slightly, how sensitive are your feelings? I’m not one to judge men for being sensitive, I only have an issue with them attempting to disguise their sensibility as solidity by being hostile and aggressive when they’re triggered. Powerful and uproarious expressions of emotion may seem masculine to you, but that still makes you emotional, motherfuckers! Nonetheless, once more, the venting of sensibilities wouldn’t be a problem if niggas didn’t act like they’re never emotional. When you lie to yourself, who benefits the most? During an interview with Vibe Magazine, Tupac once insinuated that he believed Diddy was involved with the shooting that occurred at Quad Studios in 1994—an incident that left Pac with five gunshot wounds. Tupac—who was a very proud, potent, and prolific communicator—was in essence killed because of his death-dealing attitude toward manhood. You can’t say that Pac talked the talk without walking the walk, but the “walk” is what got him killed. So, niggas, I’ll ask you this again, does shutting the fuck up make you feel soft, submissive, or spiritless? If talking can get you touched, and walking can get you wrecked, and being sensitive can get you smoked, doesn’t it make sense to avoid all that shit? As a black man, and as someone who was “outside” enough to observe every aspect of the plight of black men, it didn’t take me long to comprehend that staying in the house and sitting my ass down was my best bet for survival. I’ve bitten my tongue, I’ve let shit slide, and I’ve felt like a bitch at times, but I’ve stayed free and alive! Listen, we all know what they say about the quiet ones. And this still water runs deep enough to drown whole armies of niggas! Take that as you wish. Peace.

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