The post argues that modern schools and their teachers primarily focus on producing high scores rather than true learning, treating grades as simple proof of effort while neglecting real understanding. Teachers appear to be more concerned with keeping jobs and maintaining the status quo than engaging students’ curiosity; they often rely on memorization and test performance instead of genuine comprehension, even endorsing short‑term aids like drugs for memory boosts. The author claims that curriculum is disconnected from everyday life, leaving students to feel “below average” while actually mastering only surface content. In contrast, the writer proposes that true education comes from reading life‑changing books, self‑study, and listening to biographies or narrated texts, which provide deeper context than conventional textbook learning.

The post argues that traditional high‑school learning is far less effective than the wealth of knowledge available in thousands of narrated books, and that “fake education” floods minds with empty facts and subverts true learning. It claims teachers, politicians, judges and media are often tricked by greedy corporations and that their funding motives leave students underprepared for real life. The author urges independent study—reading books, self‑education, and becoming creators of knowledge—as the only way to avoid regrets and to truly change one’s future. He stresses that genuine lectures should be life‑changing speeches, not merely graduation rituals, and that the ultimate goal is to become both a business creator and an educator for others.

The post argues that modern culture has replaced true wisdom with entertainment such as movies and music, leaving little coherence; it calls for a return to intellectual pursuits through reading and listening to thousands of books so that contradictions are resolved and personal growth ensues, and reminds readers to keep practical tools (e.g. “thick socks” and other resources) handy while they pursue deeper knowledge—so that life’s meaning is found in greatness derived from accumulated wisdom.

The author explains how mastering high‑level programming languages opens up automating creative tasks in music and visual arts, encouraging readers to use tools like JSCAD/OpenSCAD for 3D modeling and Tone.js/Elementary for algorithmic composition; by building simple scripts one can generate endless songs or complex architectural models, thereby turning generative design into a powerful, scalable workflow that blends creativity with code.

I’ve begun to see superhero belts as more than just costume props: they’re practical tools that blend style with function. After learning how an Etsy seller made $657 k selling a Batman Utility Belt, I set out my own design—an “extension of the wallet” that holds credit cards, phones, car remotes, music players and even smoke‑bombs or candy in dedicated pockets. The belt’s compartments make it easy to carry small items while giving me a showcase piece for my portfolio and a creative project that could help students learn by inventing. In this spirit I’m also testing tactical jewelry—bracelets that can assemble grappling hooks—to prove that with the right ideas, anything can become both useful and inspiring.

The post proposes a new model of schooling that replaces bloated, politically‑driven institutions with an organic, technology‑rich curriculum tailored to each student. In this system, learners build companies, earn monetary rewards instead of grades, and create real portfolios that lift them out of poverty; the revenue they generate is shared back with their schools, allowing new campuses to spring up worldwide without state funding. By letting students use computers, plotters, printers, CNC machines, and projectors to design projects and co‑found businesses, this “unschooling” approach aims to give children freedom from debt and a practical path to real careers while expanding education globally.

The post argues that widespread indoctrination—from families, schools, and institutions—drains children’s innate genius, perpetuates poverty, crime, and war, and calls for true education, equality, and wisdom to restore freedom.

We have to find a way to invent every day. Do not fear; invent something beautiful and real. Maybe a costume for Halloween, or Christmas, or even Veterans Day—who can say? You must ask yourself if you are the elf or the shelf. If you never sang *before* then today you should open that door. Singing is an art; if you don't know where to start... Maybe you need to write a song; it need not be very long. It may be embarrassing a bit, but will your elder self regret it? You won’t—and I’m sure your friends will like it a lot. And if your songs are as bad as mine, then that is a sign. Life is calling you to get good at it and create a huge hit. Or just take whatever it is you sing and create an amazing alarm or phone ring. Don’t feel embarrassed to sing, paint, or dance; you should always take a creative chance. Everything you create is a beautiful treasure, one of a kind and beyond all measure. If you don’t give up on the beautiful things you do, you’ll make people smile, and they’ll love you. In case it has been a while since you created art and you’re not too sure where to start: First of all, you may need a day of rest, as that is when you are at your mightiest. Then just start somewhere you like—go camping or on a long hike. If your talents are rusty or the equipment is too dusty, then find something new to do without any further ado. One year doing this, one year doing that—and a new talent can be had. I would recommend—if you don’t mind—to get a canvas and use a projector to outline a portrait. Then use snail mail to send it to your friend. They’ll say “No way!” and that will surely make for a nice day. Though I think my favorite recommendation is creating a tiny little poem with good narration.

The post is a collection of verses that repeatedly begin with “Everybody knows” to emphasize a series of global concerns: from the world needing help and broken schools to animals in need, family unity, war’s misery, pandemics on the horizon, and the necessity for real change. Each stanza repeats the same refrain, underscoring how these issues are common knowledge—yet still unresolved—while calling for action such as closing prisons, ending poverty, and bringing about peace. The lyrics weave together a poetic snapshot of contemporary problems, framing them as shared truths that demand collective effort to fix.

A young woman who tracks species loss and monitors climate change declares “That’s F‑ing Enough,” a phrase that marks the generational divide she sees. She believes students already grasp the urgency of these problems better than adults, but they still need help with fundamentals such as mass incarceration, poverty, and ineffective politics. In her vision, schools will produce future lawmakers who draft constitutional amendments worldwide: “No more prisons,” “No more poverty,” a new law forcing politicians to be honest (with 50‑year community service for violations), “No more killing,” a wage ceiling for government employees, and school closures if results aren’t achieved. She argues that ending poverty, cleaning up plastics (requiring ten kilos of plastic removed for every kilogram added), and improving education will enable global change; she notes we’ve already seen species loss and climate evidence but failed to elect the right leaders because people were uneducated. The “three dreadful words” she cites—“No more…”—are meant to unite generations, correct mistakes in prisons, poverty, war, money, and crime, and bring about a new civilization built on kindness, knowledge, and vision.

The author outlines a three‑step plan for cultivating personal greatness and creative output, beginning with an introspective exploration of what it means to become a writer and how greatness shapes one’s self‑perception. In Step One he muses on the role of writing as a vehicle for expression, the cyclical nature of life, and the transformative power of striving toward greatness, which can make us feel both small and indestructible. Step Two turns to practical preparation: assembling an expedition backpack item by item while reflecting on everyday tasks and immersing oneself in nature’s rhythms; he lists specific gear for each weekday as a metaphor for steady progress. Finally, Step Three encourages balancing work with leisure—costumes, cooking, dancing—and extending that balance outward by helping friends experience the outdoors and learning anew, thereby turning personal wisdom into a powerful book.

The post celebrates the idea that genius emerges when we pursue our own curiosities and adventures—whether in art, math, music, science or travel—and not by following others’ paths or chasing grades alone. It stresses that true learning is independent, spontaneous and deeply connected to personal interests; when we turn everyday lessons into creative projects (like painting a big canvas or turning math into generative art), our minds expand naturally. The author argues that schools often disconnect subjects and rob us of brilliance, so we must create our own space for exploration. In short, genius is already inside each of us, awakened by the joy of doing what we love and by taking independent steps toward understanding.

The post proposes a new school model that builds a “tree of knowledge” rooted in the universe’s birth and unfolding through time: students start with foundational topics (cosmology, early life, human evolution) and then branch into disciplines such as mathematics, music, programming, art, etc., guided by curiosity rather than rigid curricula. By weaving subjects together across epochs—much like a cathedral that takes years to complete—the author argues for continuous, interconnected learning that avoids the fragmented “cut‑up” units of traditional schooling, encourages analogies and real-world projects, and ultimately cultivates lifelong mastery rather than rote memorization.

The author begins by encouraging readers to start creating in small, flexible spaces—whether a dedicated lab or even a living‑room—using affordable tools like the Ender 3 v2 3D printer and Blender for designing parts such as screws; from that humble beginning he moves into a broader reflection on education, arguing that our current “fake” system needs to be replaced by self‑guided, real schools led by inspiring teachers who bring art, programming, and design together in a practical curriculum; he proposes a new tool that brings the school to students at their own pace, making learning fun and productive so that future generations can tackle climate change and other challenges with wisdom gained from this hands‑on, self‑paced education.

High‑school learning is seen as inadequate, so the post urges taking charge of one’s own education by pursuing hands‑on projects—like 3D design, electronics, and programming—with practical tools and online resources.

The author recounts his journey to create a simple generative‑art sketch in p5.js that illustrates how colors can be generated using the HSL model. After explaining hue, saturation, and luminosity—and why HSL is more natural for artists because it forms a circular hue wheel—he presents a program that picks a random hue, computes its triad by adding 120° and 240°, then draws three rectangles and two semi‑transparent circles in those colors. Each click re‑chooses the triad; right‑click saves the image. He notes how this exercise teaches basic arithmetic and arithmetic with degrees while also serving as background art or prints, and contrasts HSL’s advantages over RGB and CMYK for generative art.

The post argues that traditional schooling and college are often inadequate and merely “fake” education, while true learning comes from hands‑on experience and self‑studied projects—especially in 3D design and printing. It encourages readers to start with simple Blender tutorials and a low‑cost printer kit, then build a portfolio of tangible products (jewelry, belts, escape kits) that can be sold or fabricated by companies, proving practical skills to employers. By repeatedly designing, prototyping, and learning from failures, one can launch their own small company or join a startup accelerator, thereby mastering real education through creative work rather than cramming exams. The final question invites the reader to choose between being hired as a diploma holder or as a self‑taught portfolio owner.

The author encourages students to leave the classroom when their teacher claims unfairness, instead heading to the library where “real teachers”—the books—await; by listening to narrated books (audiobooks) they can absorb wisdom, experience adventures, biographical insights, and philosophical ideas in a way that reading alone cannot. The post stresses how pain fuels learning, how audiobooks preserve the author’s soul, and how awards like the Audie and Grammy validate quality narration. Ultimately it argues that listening to stories not only relieves personal struggles but also sparks intellectual independence and brilliance, urging readers to seek narrated books as a reliable path to understanding life’s challenges and becoming “blindingly brilliant.”

Climate change will put billions into harm within 30 years; early action is required—just as wars can be prevented decades in advance—and the solution lies in education: real schools that teach invention and application so future generations can avert disasters before they start, including migration planning, improved farming, and opening new lands by permafrost. Politicians and teachers alike are ineffective without proper schooling; the law should target those uneducated by political failures, while building real schools creates wisdom, greatness, and a united family that transcends borders of time and place. In short, to avoid suffering for billions we must learn, act, and collaborate today to reverse climate change so our family can thrive together.

The author argues that traditional schooling feels unreliable and corrupt, urging students to build tangible portfolios—especially in 3‑D design and printing—to prove their skills beyond diplomas. He stresses the importance of self‑learning, side projects, and a personal business as ways to showcase creativity, earn income, and stand out in interviews. Ultimately, he believes that taking control of one’s education through real work will let students become “great beings” rather than merely nodding along.

The post reflects on how leadership, education, and personal growth shape society: it begins by quoting Burke and a playful “Dr… Meow” to illustrate that titles alone don’t guarantee true refinement or learning. It then argues that generations must learn quickly, repair mistakes, and contribute lasting work—“the world will grow up all right.” The author stresses the importance of genuine schools (not fake ones) and real leaders who act with wisdom, not mere political showmanship. By listening to books and embracing adventure, one can become wise, inspire younger generations, and bring about a new age of enlightenment where true leaders restore the heart of society.

The post paints an optimistic picture of emerging leaders who are distinct from their predecessors, noting that the changing climate helps reveal truth‑tellers among the liars. It describes a day marked by cancelled classes and global attention, suggesting this moment signals a fresh beginning. The author speaks to politicians—presidents or prime ministers—who will understand this new wave once they step into power, promising unanimous votes and signatures with no anonymity left. The narrative ends on a hopeful note: the world is ready for change, urging readers to rise and act without delay because their collective action can bring about the future the world needs.

The post reflects on the innate spark within each of us that drives us to seek wisdom and light our own paths; it urges a return to nature—mountains, seas, deserts—and the use of simple, deliberate steps such as setting aside devices, packing a backpack, and journaling every adventure. By engaging with the natural world and its rhythms, we can nurture our inner ember, gain real education beyond formal diplomas, and let wisdom and greatness flow naturally. The author invites readers to commit to this journey—capturing experiences in journals, embracing the seasons’ moods, and using nature as a living teacher that will illuminate and sustain us through all of life’s challenges.

After reflecting on his jury duty experience and reading Michelle Alexander’s book, the author argues that individualized stories, real education, and de‑indoctrination can transform criminals into citizens and reform the justice system.