Loser Club Quotes

Hey, you created me! I didn't create some loser alter-ego to make myself feel better. Take some responsibility!

In the game of life; Sometimes we win, Sometimes we loss, Either ways, we should always keep playing.

Alec had comfort books—stories so familiar that they made reading feel like coasting downhill on a bike, or water-skiing on a smooth lake.

Icy: You ladies want to hear something funny? The quiz in last month's Teen Witch said "What would you do if you got to take over the whole universe? Darcy: What did you put? Icy: I wrote "You'll find out soon enough, loser," and sent it in.

Books were so dependable—so orderly. Then he thought, And so totally unlike real life.

And it was the same with the Black Cauldron movie—the book was ten times better.

Edward wants her on a biological level, right?" "Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?" God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to to participate in a Twilight book club.

sunny

covering

like Kidnapped, and The Swiss Family Robinson, and the Chronicles of Narnia, The Hobbit, and about twenty others.

instantly peeled back the wrapper and bit off half the granola bar,

Because books do that—they make us lose some ignorance, and lose some fear. And losing fear might mean losing some anger, too.

Ray Bradbury

Real life is so…messy.

The whole book stays put, right there all the time, always the same, with the words perfectly lined up one after another, waiting.

LeBron James

We raise men in our society to treat sex like a contest, a race to be won, instead of the joyful expression of love that it can be. And that’s not to say that casual sex is wrong, or that a person’s reasons for wanting to have sex are ever a reason for judgment. Sex for pleasure’s sake is perfectly healthy and normal. But so is waiting. We tell women they’re sluts for not waiting long enough and men that they’re losers for waiting too long. It’s a twisted message that hurts everyone

difference, and…and stuff.” Alec stopped talking. His hands were cold and clammy. He felt like he’d just said way, way too much about the stupid sign. Nina sat down kitty-corner from him, and Alec noticed that she looked almost the same as

You think I like this?” I say defensively. “Trust me, I don’t need this headache in my life.” I swallow a mouthful of beer. “Hey. You know Twilight?” He blinks. “Excuse me?” “Twilight. The vampire book.” His wary eyes study my face. “What about it?” “Okay, so you know how Bella’s blood is extra special? Like how it gives Edward a raging boner every time he’s around her?” “Are you fucking with me right now?” I ignore that. “Do you think it happens in real life? Pheromones and all that crap. Is it a bullshit theory some horndog dreamed up so he could justify why he’s attracted to his mother or some shit? Or is there actually a biological reason why we’re drawn to certain people? Like goddamn Twilight. Edward wants her on a biological level, right?” “Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?” God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to participate in a Twilight book club.

In the school library there’s an old Book Week poster that says ‘Get Lost in a Book.’ Well, we do that. We lose ourselves in books for hours and hours—books about all kinds of people and tons of different places. Then we come back, and we bring things with us. When we get lost like that, I think we find all kinds of cool stuff.

But if the messiness makes me feel like this, then it’s worth it, right?

seized

Speaking truth to bullshit and practicing civility start with knowing ourselves and knowing the behaviors and issues that both push into our own BS or get in the way of being civil. If we go back to BRAVING and our trust checklist, these situations require a keen eye on: 1. Boundaries. What’s okay in a discussion and what’s not? How do you set a boundary when you realize you’re knee-deep in BS? 2. Reliability. Bullshitting is the abandonment of reliability. It’s hard to trust or be trusted when we BS too often. 3. Accountability. How do we hold ourself and others accountable for less BS and more honest debate? Less off-loading of emotion and more civility? 4. Vault. Civility honors confidentiality. BS ignores truth and opens the door to violations of confidentiality. 5. Integrity. How do we stay in our integrity when confronted with BS, and how do we stop in the midst of our own emotional moment to say, “You know what, I’m not sure this conversation is productive” or “I need to learn more about this issue”? 6. Nonjudgment. How do we stay out of judgment toward ourselves when the right thing to do is say, “I actually don’t know much about this. Tell me what you know and why it’s important to you.” How do we not go into “winner/loser” mode and instead see an opportunity for connection when someone says to us, “I don’t know anything about that issue”? 7. Generosity. What’s the most generous assumption we can make about the people around us? What boundaries have to be in place for us to be kinder and more tolerant? I know that the practice of speaking truth to bullshit while being civil feels like a paradox, but both are profoundly important parts of true belonging.

But only one thought came to him—This is better than the best book I’ve ever read!

All Summer in a Day” by Ray Bradbury Because of Winn-Dixie by Kate DiCamillo Big Nate series by Lincoln Peirce The Black Cauldron (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Book Thief  by Markus Zusak Brian’s Hunt by Gary Paulsen Brian’s Winter by Gary Paulsen Brown Girl Dreaming by Jacqueline Woodson Bud, Not Buddy by Christopher Paul Curtis The Call of the Wild by Jack London The Cat in the Hat by Dr. Seuss Charlotte’s Web by E. B. White The Chronicles of Narnia series by C. S. Lewis Diary of a Wimpy Kid series by Jeff Kinney Fahrenheit 451 by Ray Bradbury The Giver by Lois Lowry Goodnight Moon by Margaret Wise Brown Harry Potter series by J. K. Rowling Hatchet by Gary Paulsen The High King (The Chronicles of Prydain) by Lloyd Alexander The Hobbit by J. R. R. Tolkien Holes by Louis Sachar The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins I Am LeBron James by Grace Norwich I Am Stephen Curry by Jon Fishman Island of the Blue Dolphins by Scott O’Dell Johnny Tremain by Esther Hoskins Forbes Julie of the Wolves by Jean Craighead George Kidnapped by Robert Louis Stevenson LeBron’s Dream Team: How Five Friends Made History by LeBron James and Buzz Bissinger The Lightning Thief  (Percy Jackson and the Olympians) by Rick Riordan A Long Walk to Water by Linda Sue Park The Merry Adventures of Robin Hood by Howard Pyle Number the Stars by Lois Lowry The Outsiders by S. E. Hinton The River by Gary Paulsen The Sailor Dog by Margaret Wise Brown Sarah, Plain and Tall by Patricia MacLachlan Shiloh by Phyllis Reynolds Naylor “A Sound of Thunder” by Ray Bradbury Star Wars Expanded Universe novels (written by many authors) Star Wars series (written by many authors) The Swiss Family Robinson by Johann D. Wyss Tales from a Not-So-Graceful Ice Princess (Dork Diaries) by Rachel Renée Russell Tales of a Fourth Grade Nothing by Judy Blume “The Tell-Tale Heart” by Edgar Allan Poe Treasure Island by Robert Louis Stevenson Tuck Everlasting by Natalie Babbitt Under the Blood-Red Sun by Graham Salisbury The Very Hungry Caterpillar by Eric Carle When You Reach Me by Rebecca Stead A Wrinkle in Time by Madeleine L’Engle

Hey. You know Twilight?” He blinks. “Excuse me?” “Twilight. The vampire book.” His wary eyes study my face. “What about it?” “Okay, so you know how Bella’s blood is extra special? Like how it gives Edward a raging boner every time he’s around her?” “Are you fucking with me right now?” I ignore that. “Do you think it happens in real life? Pheromones and all that crap. Is it a bullshit theory some horndog dreamed up so he could justify why he’s attracted to his mother or some shit? Or is there actually a biological reason why we’re drawn to certain people? Like goddamn Twilight. Edward wants her on a biological level, right?” “Are you seriously dissecting Twilight right now?” God, I am. This is what Allie has reduced me to. A sad, pathetic loser who goes to a bar and forces his friend to participate in a Twilight book club.

I said, somewhat confused, “What’s the problem?” [Kristy] rolled her eyes. Beside her, Monica said, “Donneven.” “Kristy.” Delia shook her head. “This isn’t the time or the place, okay?” “The time or the place for what?” Caroline asked. “There is never,” Kristy said adamantly, “a time or place for true love. It happens accidentally, in a heartbeat, in a single flashing, throbbing moment.” “Throbbing?” my mother said, leaning forward and looking at me. “Who’s throbbing?” “Macy and Wes,” Kristy told her. “We are not,” I said indignantly. “Kristy,” Delia said helplessly. “Please God I’m begging you, not now.” “Wait a second, wait a second.” Caroline held her hands up. “Kristy. Explain.” “Yes, Kristy,” my mother said, but she was looking at me. Not really mad as much as confused. Join the club, I thought. “Explain.” Bert said, “This ought to be good.” Kristy ignored him, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “Wes wants to be with Macy. And Macy, whether she’ll admit it or not, wants to be with Wes. And yet they’re not together, which is not only unjust, but really, when you think about it, tragical.” “That’s not a word,” Bert pointed out. “It is now,” she said. “How else can you explain a situation where Wes, a truly extraordinary boy, would be sent packing in favor of some brainiac loser…” “Why,” I said, feeling embarrassed, “do we have to keep talking about this?” “Because it’s tragical!” Kristy said….”I’ll tell you what it is. It’s wrong. You should be with Wes, Macy. The whole time you guys were hanging out, talking about how you were both with other people, it was so obvious to everyone. It was even obvious to Wes. You were the only one who couldn’t see it, just like you can’t see it now.” “Mmm-hmm,” Monica said aloud.

The act of cooking imposed a kind of dignity on hunger, which had become terrifying. I couldn’t remember how I had managed hunger, the animal wildness of it, before. At home we gobbled, we were a family who ate. You could sit in front of the television and shove handfuls of crisps into your mouth, you could smother ripped-up pieces of bread with margarine over the kitchen sink. There was a bravado in it: leftovers were for losers, and if you didn’t have a hearty appetite, there was something wrong with you. But the eating always had a kind of context: in my mum’s house, with its flotsam of dressing gowns and stupid shows on the television, it felt reasonable and normal and right. Now my eating, my bottomless, yearning hunger, was a horror. I felt monstrous, shoveling in the amount of food I wanted to, more anxious with every bite. Cooking became the buffer: an act of civility before the carnage ensued.

Speaking truth to bullshit and practicing civility start with knowing ourselves and knowing the behaviors and issues that both push into our own BS or get in the way of being civil. If we go back to BRAVING and our trust checklist, these situations require a keen eye on: 1. Boundaries. What’s okay in a discussion and what’s not? How do you set a boundary when you realize you’re knee-deep in BS? 2. Reliability. Bullshitting is the abandonment of reliability. It’s hard to trust or be trusted when we BS too often. 3. Accountability. How do we hold ourself and others accountable for less BS and more honest debate? Less off-loading of emotion and more civility? 4. Vault. Civility honors confidentiality. BS ignores truth and opens the door to violations of confidentiality. 5. Integrity. How do we stay in our integrity when confronted with BS, and how do we stop in the midst of our own emotional moment to say, “You know what, I’m not sure this conversation is productive” or “I need to learn more about this issue”? 6. Nonjudgment. How do we stay out of judgment toward ourselves when the right thing to do is say, “I actually don’t know much about this. Tell me what you know and why it’s important to you.” How do we not go into “winner/loser” mode and instead see an opportunity for connection when someone says to us, “I don’t know anything about that issue”? 7. Generosity. What’s the most generous assumption we can make about the people around us? What boundaries have to be in place for us to be kinder and more tolerant? I know that the practice of speaking truth to bullshit while being civil feels like a paradox, but both are profoundly important parts of true belonging. Carl Jung wrote, “Only the paradox comes anywhere near to comprehending the fullness of life.” We are complex beings who wake up every day and fight against being labeled and diminished with stereotypes and characterizations that don’t reflect our fullness. Yet when we don’t risk standing on our own and speaking out, when the options laid before us force us into the very categories we resist, we perpetuate our own disconnection and loneliness. When we are willing to risk venturing into the wilderness, and even becoming our own wilderness, we feel the deepest connection to our true self and to what matters the most.

Life expectancy continues to rise in most of the rest of the industrialized world, but in the United States it has dropped for three years in a row—for the first time in a century. As we’ll see, American kids today are 55 percent more likely to die by the age of nineteen than children in the other rich countries that are members of the OECD, the club of industrialized nations. America now lags behind its peer countries in health care and high-school graduation rates while suffering greater violence, poverty and addiction. This dysfunction damages all Americans: it undermines our nation’s competitiveness, especially as growing economies like China’s are fueled by much larger populations and by rising education levels, and may erode the well-being of our society for decades to come. The losers are not just those at the bottom of society, but all of us. For America to be strong, we must strengthen all Americans.

In any pageant, or in any game or contest, there are winners and there are losers. You might be a winner, Myriah, and that would be wonderful. Daddy and Gabbie and I and even Laura would be very proud of you, but you might be a loser, too. There are going to be lots more losers than winners and I want you to know that we’ll be proud of you if you lose. We’ll be proud of you for having the courage to be in the pageant, and for the work and rehearsing you’ll do.” “I know,” said Myriah, giving her mother a hug. “Thank you.” “One more thing,” said her mother. “I think you should know that for some girls, this pageant won’t be just fun and games. I hope it’ll be fun for you, but for others it will be work. They’ll take it very seriously. You might be competing against girls who have been winners in other pageants, or who have won beauty contests or talent contests. They’ll know how pageants work. And they might, just might, not be very friendly. I want you to understand what you’re getting into, that’s all. Okay?” “Okay,” said Myriah.

For a moment he wondered when the Battle of Lexington took place as he crashed down on a chair near the window. He pulled out his cell phone and sought more information on the Internet. At least free Wi-Fi was available, and Sybil didn’t rule out the use of modern equipment. He snorted. It must be odd to see a man dressed up in an old-fashioned uniform, using a cell phone. He found all the information he needed to know online. The Battles of Lexington and Concord took place on April 19, 1775. It was the first defeat of the British army. Richard frowned. “So, I joined the losers club.

It’s just like Darren to worry about poor people in China while giving no thought to poor people in America, who need Walmart because they can’t afford to shop anywhere else—a losers’ club Rich feels, eternally, on the brink of joining, if he hasn’t already.

Get in, loser. We’re fixin’ to celebrate.” “Why are you calling me a loser?” Pearl threw open the car door and hopped out. “I swear, don’t you watch any movies?

Aaron lifted me up onto his hips and I knew we weren’t staying. “We just got here,” I murmured against his cheek. “Don’t you think Judd and Coop will take their women home to celebrate?” Glancing around, I noticed Tawny high fiving Judd who looked pretty proud about his revenge on Mac. Nearby, Farah was squeezing Cooper’s flexed muscles. None of them were planning to stay at the bar. “Are you okay, Bailey?” I asked as Aaron started for the door. “Sure, I’ll just hang out and pretend Vaughn is charming. It’ll be good practice for the next loser I date.” A grinning Vaughn patted the spot next to him in a booth. As the blonds got comfy, Aaron carried me to the Harley and sat me on the seat. “You saved me from mean words,” I teased as he felt me up in the spot Mac thought I needed help. “No one messes with my girl.” “Mighty sperm and powerful fists. Plus, you can cook and paint and write poems and a million other qualities. I’ve hit pay dirt.” “I need to get you home,” he said and I sensed the ride would be uncomfortable for him. As I wrapped my arms around his waist, he started the Harley. “Raven bought headphones, so we can fuck really loud and she won’t be bothered.” “The best houseguest ever,” Aaron said over his shoulder. As we sped away, I noticed Judd chasing a laughing Tawny to the parking lot. Cooper strutted out with Farah clinging to him. Everyone was happy except for a naked Mac tied to a tree in what I assumed was the club’s version of a time out.

A journalist watched this final in a Cologne pub that was frequented by both Germans and Englishmen. ‘It was weird,’ he later said. ‘The Germans all rooted for Manchester, the English were all urging Bayern on!’ It was natural, not weird, as Bayern were still as unloved in their own country as Manchester United were in theirs. But the instant Ole Gunnar Solskjaer scored the winner, the mood changed. It seemed too cruel to lose a match under such circumstances, even if the losers were Bayern. Also, after winning three European Cup finals they should have lost, the once lucky Bayern had now lost three they should have won. Hitzfeld took defeat in his stride, and the image of this gentlemanly coach congratulating Ferguson despite being hit so hard altered the picture some people had of Bayern as a club of cold egotists.

The overwhelmingly large number of investors should seek membership in the passive management club. This group, instead of scratching for a small edge in today’s extraordinarily efficient markets, wisely accepts what the markets deliver. Charley makes a compelling case for the market-matching strategy of investing in index funds, touting their simplicity, transparency, low cost, tax efficiency, and superior returns. Winning

So from the head master of the Meaningless Club to the head mistress of the Hopeful Club, I apologize on behalf of all the losers, users, dumbasses, dicks, fuckers, meatheads, nerds, liars, cheaters, and just plain idiots.

He’s changed?” “Yes. He’s started hanging out with a different crowd, a richer crowd. The men are all so arrogant. They don’t doubt themselves for a minute. They go to work and people agree with them all day long. And then they come home and their wives agree with them too. It’s a rarefied group, but—if you hang around with them long enough—it starts to feel like that’s how things should be. Regular working families, families where wives are equals, begin to seem like losers. You know the husband would start bossing the wife around if he made enough money, if he was man enough.” Sarah raised an eyebrow. “Man enough?” “Yes. It’s surreal. You’ve got all these nerdy-looking, chubby men who built their fortunes behind desks. And as soon as they get rich, they start using all this macho language, as if they’re gangsters or something. The other day, I heard one of Andrew’s partners talking about a competitor starting a price war. He said, ‘If those bastards screw with us, we’ll take ’em to the mattresses.’” Sarah caught the Godfather reference and smiled. “Yes. I’ve heard that kind of talk before. Bank account becomes a proxy for dick size.” “Exactly!

The mediocrities had been dispatched to Indochina, allowing France to staff its colonial bureaucracies with the schoolyard bully, the chess club misfit, the natural-born accountant, and the diffident wallflower, whom the great-uncle now spotted in their original habitat as the outcasts and losers they were.

RULE #1: NEVER PUT UP WITH A DOUCHEBAG BOYFRIEND—DUMP THAT LOSER.

You need to tell yourself that you've got something that they don't; you didn't get their good looks, but you got some stuff they didn't, and now the arrow is pointing up on your qualities while their beauty slowly fades. You tell yourself this so you don't just feel like a genetic loser or a broken person. It's an awful trap. You're dehumanizing yourself and everyone else you meet You're balancing the numbers on some ledger of social values that you've created in your insecurity rather than, you know, actually getting to know people and see if you hit it off.

one hider and all the other players are seekers. When a seeker finds the hider, he doesn’t just win that round of the game, he hides with him. The next person to find the hiders hides with them, too, and so on until one seeker is left. That seeker is the loser and starts out the next round of the game as the hider. The tricky thing when you’re the hider is finding a big enough hiding place in which to fit a whole lot of other people.

A certain amount of detachment, the learned Head of my Chambers, Guthrie Featherstone, Q.C., M.P., says, is essential to the life of a barrister. This means that you should be able to see your client sent down for a long stretch, wave him a cheery goodbye and potter off to the Sheridan Club for a touch of cold pheasant with nothing more than a mild 'Oops!' at having backed another loser.

You must unlearn what you have learned.’ ” Another Star Wars quote.

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- I have to go. - No. You don't have to go. - Yes, I do. - No, you have to rest now. - I gotta go. - No, you don't have to go anywhere. You don't need to walk out this door and hire a Pakistani. - I have to go. I got other things to do. - F…g bullshit! We just woke up! And you are bleeding. I tie you to the gas pipe by the oven in the kitchen, girl. You do not go out on that door until you calm down Martina. - I am calm. - No, you need a few hours tied to the gas pipe to think some things over. Meditate a bit. - I want to go. - I don’t give a f..k what do you want right now, Martina, I am serious. You are wrong to think I won’t tie you to that f…g pipe if you don’t calm the f..k down and use your head finally. Apparently you do not know me so well after a year, baby. You are really stupid and you don’t see or hear it when I am telling you nicely. OK. You start to piss me off because you don’t realize it. You didn’t come home here to get Sabrina killed, do you understand? It is time for you now to get yourself together after this terrible year and begin to listen to me before I slap you only once Martina but the wall gives you the second one. Do you understand? Things only get done if I take care of them myself, haven’t you seen or realized that yet? Now, you need to listen to me just this once, Martina, and stay put with your bleeding hand, before I take you to the hospital for some stitches. Do you want stitches in your hand? Shots? - No. - Tough. So sit tight until I clean up this mess, and roll a joint. Here, have a Hennessy. - I don’t want it. - I repeat. I did not ask what do you want the first time in one year. I don’t give a f..k. You are listening to the smarter one. I told you to take a shot so that you calm down before you get yourself in jail for your stupidity thinking that you had to get Sabrina killed for any reason. Who told you this bullshit Martina? No hospital, no doctor, no medication, no stitches, then you need a drink right now. Alcohol. A bit. Internally. And externally. And shut up. Answer when I ask you something. Who told you this bullshit Martina that Sabrina has the club and she has to die? - Nobody. No one told me that. – You are lying. Who told you that Sabrina was your enemy, Martina? – Nobody. You. – Stop playing! I told you she is a f…g loser, a junkie, a bum, a liar, a thief. Do you want me to beat the answers, the living shit out of Adam, or Nicolas? Which one? Both?

Group activities are ideal: glee clubs, political advocacy groups, whatever your interests may be. If you are wedded to a solitary pursuit such as stamp collecting, at least try to get involved in clubs and conventions devoted to the hobby. Also, go to parties. Give parties. Attend rallies. March in marches. If you exercise for fitness, don’t exercise alone; join the Y. Consistently lucky people are nearly always to be found in the fast flow. I never met one who was a recluse or even reclusive. The Third Technique Risk Spooning There are two ways to be an almost sure loser in life.

out here

I don’t have any moves, per se. I just be myself.” “What if that doesn’t work for us?” Amos asked. “I mean, Julian can speak actual French, and it doesn’t help.” “Je sui loser.” Julian hung his head.

VITTU” DEFINITION: “FUCK / CUNT” “Vittuun” DEFINITION: “FUCK OFF” “Vittumainen” DEFINITION: “fucking cunt” “VittupAA” DEFINITION: “CUNTHEAD” “KusipAA” DEFINITION: “PISSHEAD” “PASKIAINEN” DEFINITION: “bastard” “Paska” DEFINITION: “SHIT” “Suksi vittuun” DEFINITION: “Ski into a cunt” “VedA vittu pAAhAs!” DEFINITION: “DRAW A CUNT OVER YOUR HEAD!” “Ime munaa, runkkari” DEFINITION: “SUCK COCK, WANKER!” “AITISI NAI POROJA!” DEFINITION: “Your mother copulates with reindeer!” “Pimppi” DEFINITION: “PUSSY” “MolopAA!” DEFINITION: “DICKHEAD!” “Haista vittu” DEFINITION: “smellY cunt” “VedA kAteen ” DEFINITION: “JERK OFF” “ISAS OLI PUKKI / RUNKKU / KYVYTON, KUN SUA TEKI” DEFINITION: “your dad was a buck / wanker / unable when he made you” “Pukki” DEFINITION: “A very virile person” “PaskapAA” DEFINITION: “SHITHEAD” “Luuseri” DEFINITION: “LOSER / SUCKER

Unfortunately, for every IPO like Microsoft that turns out to be a big winner, there are thousands of losers. The psychologists Daniel Kahnerman and Amos Tversky have shown when humans estimate the likelihood or frequency of an event, we make that judgment based not on how often the event has actually occurred, but on how vivid the past examples are. We all want to buy “the next Microsoft”—precisely because we know we missed buying the first Microsoft. But we conveniently overlook the fact that most other IPOs were terrible investments. You could have earned that $533 decillion gain only if you never missed a single one of the IPO market’s rare winners—a practical impossibility. Finally, most of the high returns on IPOs are captured by members of an exclusive private club—the big investment banks and fund houses that get shares at the initial (or “underwriting”) price, before the stock begins public trading. The biggest “run-ups” often occur in stocks so small that even many big investors can’t get any shares; there just aren’t enough to go around.

We are the music makers, And we are the dreamers of dreams, Wandering by lone sea-breakers, And sitting by desolate streams”,’ Holmes quoted, ‘“World-losers and world-forsakers, On whom the pale moon gleams: Yet we are the movers and shakers, Of the world for ever, it seems.

I know it difficult to teach of 6 billion people to love each others... But atleast some can give up hate... Just trail of thoughts for you.. The beings on the planet came to existance. Somehow.. Not willing to debate about the source being God or Science.. Then they started evolving and adapting with the natural srrounding.. Some went to Africa the nature burnt their skins and raised the melanin content in their bodies and made them "Blacks".. Some went to Europe the same malanin was washed away as wasnt required and they became "Whites".. And the most fortunate like us came to Southern Asia and became "Browns" Similar was the case with adaptation to the fooding habits too... These habits took ages to settle in and were forced by nature... With passage of time humans gathered some wisdom and wanted too move away from the natural coarse of life designed by nature for them. In most of the ancient paintings found people have been shown killing or exploiting others.. In most of the recorded history maximum elaboration is about Battles and Wars. Where winners were always HEROES and losers were VILLAINS.. In recorded history very few VILLAINS actually won final wars. People started choosing the Victorious as heroes out of fear. The victorious could define and dictate terms to the society. This continues for ages till further evolution of human brains started. The evolution of human brains led to disloyalty towards the victorious and powerful rulers. Their brains taught them the power of togetherness clubbed with conspiracy could uproot the rulers. They started resisting the powerful. May be this is the time when something called religions came to existence to tame the behaviour of Man from the fear of unknown... i.e. Heaven and Hell. They held the societies together got in rules and regulations but again these were based on hating others and protecting community, cities or co-followers. Unfortunately now These Fears of Unknown from different geographical locations are confronting each other stating my fear is bigger than your fear.. But eventually every one has some path i.e. Birth to Death ... During this lengthy thoughts i have understood that its not the fault of a Black to be black and there is no contribution of a White in being born a white... So being Brown is Great... Eternal life is fro the people who did things for generations to remember that's what heaven and hellz all about. - A Black can show supremacy by being Nelson Mandella - A White can help and heal people to Become Mother Teressa - A Brown can liberate and fight for Kids and become Kailash Satyarthi At this point you must also know that Thousands of Years have Gone.. and one thing that remains constant after "CHANGE" is "HATE" Can we change or let it be as was written on the WALL...

If you want a vision of the bleak, bland capitalist future, go to Hudson Yards in New York City, the new, billion-dollar complex of gleaming skyscrapers. It's a lifeless shopping mall for luxury goods, intensely policed and surveilled, where every aspect of life is curated by a corporation... This is the city for the winners. The losers will be in homeless encampments outside the city gates. The left's city of the future looks very different. It is a Star Trek world, where we can travel through space together and meet aliens. It is public libraries and free colleges, where all can come and learn without worrying about money. It is Mardis Gras in New Orleans, where everyone expresses their individuality through art and costume without any regard for profit or commerce. It is camping trips and cookouts, book clubs and street cafes. It is the theory that life is meant to be enjoyed, and that nobody should lack the basic ingredients for a decent existence. It is, above all, the conviction that we're here to help each other through this thing, whatever it is.