G Factor to Black Exceptionalism

In some schools of science, intelligence is measured by a factor, dubbed the g factor, which measures ones genetic potential for intelligence. Its sort of like an IQ measurement that predicts your intelligence genetically. Its sometime’s disappointing and totally modeled but the results are illmatically real. For example, if Kid A is good at music he will likely be good at any activity using the same skills, like acting, but unable to do some others, like woodwork. Its basic until you start getting into the opinions on why, but that’s another chapter.

This is my g. I mean my g factor analysis.

My actions are fucked because of the outcomes of my decisions. Why? Because if I was sitting on a million dollars, I wouldn’t care about the outcome of my decisions. But I know have a magnificent thing call time in my hands, because I have retrospect. If I can somehow figure out how to wring something from my time on earth, all I got is retrospect. And looking in my rear view, I see a few hills and a few mountains in my past, but mostly it flatter than Oklahoma, minus the sinkholes throughout and the ditches I’ve dug behind me. You would think I was digging up land mines.

I remember when I first starting digging up landmines. I was working a job that required steel toe boots and a 4pm to 3am work day. I’d taken the job a few weeks after my first year of school ended and worked myself to the bone trying to stash a penny or two before going back college. We worked in a warehouse, stacking crates and moving pallets, always with a head on the swivel. I thought it was good work and I learned to drive a forklift, so I was okay with it. But it was work for mules. And at the end of the summer, I barely had 500 to piss on. School year number two would be just as excruciating. Instead of letting my paper stack so I can pay my fucking people’s bill bitch, I went into overkill. I bought a couple of pounds over the course of a semester and tried to be a little Nino Encyclopedia Brown or something. I got robbed and survived by a merciful gun jam, was kicked off campus, and started selling coke to make the money stretch. I dug a hole. I buried yourself. Why? Because I was tired of waiting on Karma to shine her ugly ass on me.

But now I know, there is no karma. There is only a decision and the reaction of the world. Either you vibing with it, or you ain’t. Still, a new philosophy does not beget better decision making.

To think of how many years I spend not vibing. I think me and my friends made it a point to be outcasts. It sounds silly, but how else can you describe a band full of intelligent class clowns. And I was always in a way about being a nonconformist. But if you ask me what was I thinking, I honestly couldn’t tell you. I was an asshole then much more than I am now. My thoughts were reckless and immature and I knew better but allowed it because I was young and I needed to feel I existed. But in the end its, not my fault. The world is full of people and I just happen to be from a select crowd called idiots. We are genetically predisposed to dumb notions, like race baiting and Nascar. We believe in genies and unicorns and wasting time because we know we will live forever, or so we think. So our decisions will always reflect this way of thought. And when time catches us, we base our existence in the afterlife on Karmatic notions of right and wrong.

The truth is, we don’t know what’s next for us. We can all go buy making dumb as decision after dumb decision, or we can try to boost or decision making intelligence one sound choice at a time. Vibe better, right or wrong and you win. Hey ho! Yes, you unhappy ho. Get that dick out your mouth. Stop getting halfway through Madea before you get skeeted on. Make a muthafucka take you out and see if you liven your life. Vibe with the world different and better. Hey dude. Yes, you 40 year old asshole. Stop telling these bitches about your money. They are going to set you up to some MS-13s or something. Dress down and see which ones stay around. Vibrate. Vibrate higher. That’s the only intelligence you need to know. If you got that, you can boost any g factor. Some people are born with the tools to vibrate perfectly in the world, and some are not, but there is no excuse to not vibrate.

Excuses for failure are the basis for the psychometric concept of g factor. Why do black children suffer more blah blah blah than any other blah? Why do women blah more or less than men. Why do fools fall in love? JK. The inability to find a better way of thinking, not some predetermined point on a graph based on racial background. Find a better way of thinking and you will vibrate with the world better. If you knew better, you’d do better. To get the best results, always make the decision that vibes best with the world.

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