I’m wrong about something pertaining to African-Americans.

And the reason why I’m wrong is because I am different from many black people in a lot of ways that I can’t help. And I’m not saying that with a positive or negative connotation. I’m saying that to highlight a communicative gap that’s in the blindsides of both perspectives pertaining to what I’ve seen and experienced in life as a black man, in contrast with what the majority of others have.

Meanwhile, I’m not a Christian; I’m Norse. I forget when it’s Passover like I forget my own birthday. One of my bros had to tell me because he celebrates it.

Though, despite that aspect of my character, it is true that I have committed a lot of The Bible to memory just like I have the Hávámal, and some of the Qu’ran that I haven’t finished, yet.

There are two verses from Proverbs that stick out to memory.

“Every way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the LORD pondereth the hearts.” ~Proverbs 21:2


“All the ways of a man are clean in his own eyes; but the LORD weigheth the spirits.” ~Proverbs 16:2

…from the King James version, which is what I’ve read. It was a while ago; I was on punishment when I was a teenager and just decided to bust it out.

When I think about these two verses, I think back to when I first started my life, when I still spoke to my original, biological family.

  • Beliefs that were detached from the laws of economics were taught to me; that much is true.
  • Everyone in the house had some kind of victim mentality (myself included); that much is true.
  • Despite higher-than-average technical intelligence, I lacked a ton of wisdom; that much is true.

But, everyone thought they were right in how they perceived the world. Because of that, we suffered, and for understandable reasons.

At this point in my life, I’d say that we made decisions a, b, and c that led to d, e, and f results that damaged us as a family in x, y, and z ways. That’s taking personal responsibility, because you chain-link the result to a decision that you made. It’s not that something happened to you; it’s that you made a decision based on a belief or perception that led to a thought-process, that led to an action, that led to a result.

Thus, in changing one’s beliefs or perception ultimately changes the result of their life.

But if you believe that you’re right with the victim’s mentality, then your suffering is ultimately right. Not right in the sense that you enjoy your suffering. It’s right in the sense that you believe that’s all there can ever be.

That’s the nature of the pathology that keeps people with my skin color in the generational metaphorical cage. It’s heritable. It’s a matter of cultural evolutionary psychology. My whole challenge so far, and passion alike, has been resetting the direction of that to go in a more positive manner more compatible with the rest of society.

The fact that you see mostly whites engaging with my content is not a bad thing; it’s a good thing. It means I’m accomplishing my objective. It’s a sign that what I’m doing is working.

Whites are the statistical majority of the country. This means that I’ve succeeded with my own kind of integration. I am “compatible” with most other whites in a way that’s not faked.

Meanwhile, black people aren’t faking their concerns when they vent them on my social media page. At the same time, I’m not faking mine. We’re both being “real” in a sense. We both think that we’re right in our own eyes, to reference The Bible quote.

What gives me continual confidence, though, is that my arguments are, indeed, based on what we can observe about the objective universe. You can test the things I say and get replicable results. It’s the classic feelings vs. objectivity clash. And objectivity always seems crueler, because it’s harder, coarser in nature.

It’s this way because, well…it’s objective (or, at least, the closest we can get to observing objective reality with consideration for our epistemic limitations).

But I wasn’t always like this. I shared the same (or very similar) pathology, in the beginning of my life. Like I said, it was passed down to me. I was just born a little physiologically different for obvious reasons.

What I had to go through was a crazy amount of pain, tons of hurtful (but necessary) criticism, 15 years and 300,000+ pages of self-reflection, traveling the world, and the teachings of mentors and friends that I was just lucky enough to be in the right place at the right time to learn from.

So, in essence, what happened to me was that I was lucky enough to have been born with a certain level of talent in a certain finite range of areas. Then, one pain just so happened to trump the other over the process of years, in a way that doesn’t usually happen in the black community.

Everyone lives in pain. Life is suffering for all in varying degrees.

What happens with many black people in America, though, is that they isolate themselves in their own pain out of the belief that they cannot be empathized with, but by other blacks. This cannot actually be true, because we can empathize with animals who aren’t even human.

But, it is, indeed, a common belief that only black people can understand black people.

To what degree the mental limitations blacks have preventing them from rebuilding their cultures the way I am is genetic, I can’t say. I believe, from how it felt when I was younger, that many blacks can’t leave their mental cages because of a pathological reason that’s preserved via cultural groupthink.

I couldn’t either, at first.

It took pain, a disproportionate amount of pain over many unlikely experiences, to kick me out of my own mental cage. I didn’t just walk out.

I reached my breaking point in China. Learning how to adapt to Chinese culture as a black man without any governmental support, family, or friends while having the least respected phenotype in the world.

I feel both types of pain; the one pertaining to what wills me to create is just greater. Whereas, most blacks in America act as if they only feel the one that keeps them in. Or, they do feel both as well, but the one that’d kick them out of the cage just typically never trumps the pain that keeps them in.

You have to experience so much pain inflicted upon you by the black community that you reach the point at which

…you just. stop. caring. what they think.

Most blacks are killed by other blacks before they reach that psychological point, though. Sadly.

Or, they’re murdered as they reach that point. They likely reach that point as they’re laying in the street with bullet holes in their chests, or in their hospital beds right before they flatline. It’s the moment at which you say to yourself “Damn…I didn’t really live my life for me. If I make it through this, I will.”

*beeep* Flatline. Too late.

And it is that psychological point at which you flip the middle finger and start doing what you really want to do, from the deepest depths of your imagination, no matter what physical danger you may face.

This is because a part of you feels like it’s already died anyway…which is the process, or the moment, of leaving the cage. I just so happened to have survived. I was lucky, and more capable than both everyone who knew me and I, myself, believed.

So, almost every black person on my page who’s lost their cool with me…they simply haven’t reached that flatline state. The moment of death. Inner death.

That’s the disconnect that’s almost impossible to communicate, the two different states of being.

However, understand what dilemma this creates for the person who left the cage: They can either pity those still in the cage, or not. The moment you pity them is the moment you’re nice to them; that’s what white liberals do. The process of pitying them keeps them in the mentality that holds them back, rather than showing the tougher love that they won’t like you for, might call you racist for (even if you’re not), but actually helps them get out of the cage in the long-term.

Meanwhile, if you don’t pity them, then you come off as arrogant.

So, what to do?

“Every way of a man is right in his own eyes: but the LORD pondereth the hearts.” ~Proverbs 21:2