Spring Spar

Spring Spar by Yours Truly 2025 march

11" x 14" unframed, paper poster board
rubber cement
paper from Vogue (24dec thru 25mar)
Paper Paper Paper: The Botanical Collection
&a manila envelope

[not for sale]

Ryding Dying

Ryding Dying (defined as the 24-photos, in total) by Yours Truly (1985-present) c. 2025
b&w digital* photography
captured on a canon eos 4000d
equipped w/a prime lens
as-is lighting
in-camera b&w "creative filter" applied
unedited, no cropping

*what this gurl would give for a darkroom *sigh*

The tkscm, limited, 2025 Q1 Trans-Pacific Dynamic Equity Allocation Research Report ARTICLES

tkscm, limited 2025 Q1
TPDEARR 
[Trans-Pacific Dynamic Equity Allocation Research Report]
2025 Q1 Articles

After all Four Q1 Research Articles are posted, 

the List of our Q1 stock picks will be available for purchase

at tkscmlimited.com

Natural Elements

 

NATURAL ELEMENTS— THE UNCHALLENGED THRONE; CONSUMING THE INCOMPREHENSIBLE; AND UTILITY+ [MAR.25] 

 

published 12Dec2024 by tkscm, limited

Macroeconomics

MACROECONOMIC EVOLUTION—INFLATION = DEPRECIATION AND DADDY’S GOTTA EAT [MAR.25]

published 13Feb2025 by tkscm, limited

 

Geopolitics

GEOPOLITICAL SHIFTS—ASYMMETRIC BALANCING AND THE ALLURE OF POST-NATIONALISM [MAR.25]

 

published 13Mar2025 by tkscm, limited

Demographics 

DEMOGRAPHIC TRENDS—CONSUMPTION MECHANISMS; HOUSEHOLD DEBT; AND CONSUMER SPENDY-MENT [MAR.25]

published 25Mar2025 by tkscm, limited

PURCHASE the MAR.25 TPDEARR Squad

at tkscmlimited.com 

 

2025 MARCH | as a subscriber ...

i never received the january issue
[not sure if there was one, but the bodybuddy/lifemate subscribed me in early january]
the february issue arrived on 01Feb25
&this issue arrived yesterday, 18Mar25
curious.
also, i spoke outloud
to the bodybuddy/lifemate
about my disdain for the periodical
sticking the address label on the front
of the thing
&i posted a pic to the 'gram
last month
with no mention of my disdain
just the dreadful pic
as is
&this month
the address label is on the back!
i couldn't be happier
in this moment.

Meanwhile ...

"What do you mean, you're not going to do it anymore?" Ladybug asks.

"It means what I said, Lady," she scoffs.  

"Okay, okay. I hear you. Just tell me, again, what happened, exactly," Ladybug demands. "I'm not demanding; we are problem-solving," Ladybug eye-rolls. "I don't eye roll," Ladybug huffs. "Ugh!" 

"Shut up, Lingerer!" she shouts. 

"Tell me,"Ladybug insists, with a look. 

"While I was walking home from my job, the other day, there were two one-dollar bills in the roundabout in front of my apartment building," she starts.

"Okay," Ladybug encourages as it leans toward her.

"Obviously, I was thrilled. It had been a minute since I found money on the ground. You know me," she shrugs. 

"Yes, I know," Ladybug encourages, leaning in even more now, antennae perky.

"And I woke up the next night thinking, one buck for each billion .... but i want two-point-two billion ... *sigh* ... oh well ... i'll obviously be happy with two billion ... obviously," she explains.

"Okay?" Ladybug shrinks back a bit, feeling confused.

"And then, later that day (the early morning from the night before), we checked the mail, which is mail from the day before. And in the mail, our address had been chosen for some Gallup Poll, and in the mailer was two bucks," she states. 

"I see," Ladybug slouches back, even further now, so far that it sits back on its haunches.

"I'm not finished," she clears her throat.

"Why? What more could you have possibly experienced in the two seconds we were parted!" Ladybug shouts!

"The next day, while I was walking home from my job, earlier along the route, I found a ring. It was obviously too big for any of my fingers, but it fit the bodybuddy/lifemate," she whispers. 

"You found him a ring of power?" Ladybug gasps as it deploys its wings to meet her face.

"It would seem so," she smirks.

Ladybug slows lowers itself to the ground in front of her. On all sixes it asks, "And two sets of two one-dollar bills." 

"Yes," she smiles. 

"You were gone for two seconds; I swear," Ladybug swears.

 

In the far far distance
a big red barn appears on the green green grass
at the base of the tall tall mountains
where the three peaks meet.

The two of them glance out over the fields toward the big red barn. 

"Fucking, List-Maker," the two of them spit simultaneously. 

"Squirrel's just up this stream," Ladybug points, "and he's been making a list of all of the stuff we can eat along the way," Ladybug informs.

She stands and dusts herself off, "Lesgo."

ON EMPIRE | Book Four [a work of nonfiction]

A Preface

I've been thinking about you lately. I do not think of my birth-mother's mother. I hope that you understand why better than I do. You were there, after all. And I do not think much of my birth-father, in general. I think of my birth-grandfather, my birth-father's father, often. I've become convinced that my birth-grandfather told me a lot of things during the short time I was raised by the two of you. 

The thing I've realized, however, is that my story is your story, and then this makes me wonder about your mother's story and her mother's story and every mother that came before us.

You are as far back as I can reach, and so, 안녕하세요 할머니. 

Would you like to be pen pals?

Your birth-granddaughter,
김선

 

SUN선SAILOR 333 (who is currently me), 332 (who hated you), &331 (who was no fun)

yes, JENNIE, please, 'LEVITATE TO THE 808'

 quoting JENNIE's — "Starlight"

Flurries of Friday Firsts | an Arbitrary Day

For the first time, since moving here (&since 2018), we went to the movies, and we watched Mickey 17. Not only was the whole going-to-the-movies a first for us here, but we also experienced a type of theater that we've never before experienced (called Titan Lux* or something). After the movie, we went to an actual Korean-food restaurant for the first time here. And then, because we soon realized that we were inadvertently celebrating a Korean-themed First Arbitrary Day of 2025 (&i had acquired two tonics from our jobplace earlier in the week when i snagged some of the drinks provided for the all-hands lunch, etc.), that we should also imbibe my favorite alcoholic beverage of our Seoul Days, and so, onward toward our search for gin we went!

We were out and about at a much later hour than our typical jaunts around the city, and so we ended up not really having an Arbitrary Weekend, cause, like, we're so old now. Nevertheless, I awoke this night thinking about some stuff. And the stuff that I initially thought that I was thinking about has turned out to be something else entirely. I wrote the following and ended up at a different conclusion than I had been aiming. And so, I scrapped the conclusion at which I had arrived, made myself and the bodybuddy/lifemate grilled cheese sandwiches (we trekked to walmart yesterday for the sole purpose of acquiring american cheese and shitty white bread for today, along with our choice of soup) with TNTs (tanqueray is also a first, and like, is expensive alcohol good for you? it tastes so good you'd think it was, lol). And now, I'm tinkering with this shit, rewriting this thing cause a different conclusion emerged.

*sip sip*

건배!

(yes, i'm tipsy, mind the typos ;)

There's a thing you learn about art when you study art history (an absolutely pointless endeavor, imho, especially when considering the overwhelming subjectivity of art-viewing, and the absolute choke hold of the Elitist Gatekeepers on the "industry" [visual, music, film, etc.] etc.). 

And the thing is about how the idea of "art" is constantly in a state of flux.

People living in the same era, now, and throughout history, rarely agree on what "art" even is, how to even define it. And "art" is undeniably affected by every advancement in science/technology. 

My personal ideology with regards to the relationship between art and science is that both are dependent on each other. Of course, critical, logical, practical minds are necessary in the advancement of science. Creative minds are also critical to the process. Some scientists, I would argue, approach science like artists, and some artists approach their art like scientists. Throughout all of art history, you can see the way that art embraces scientific advancement in various ways. It's almost like the next/new advancement "frees" the sci/tech in current use. Once the "old" sci/tech is "freed," artists utilize the thing in ways for which it was not necessarily intended. I would also argue that artists who utilize a thing in a way beyond its intended-use &or before the thing is declared obsolete, are called "experimental artists."

Art challenges The Idea (of Everything).

Sure, some critical, logical mind may have intended to create this, that, or the other, but the creation, once born, becomes its own thing, and the unintended becomes its definition. 

It's the intention that drives us; it's the unintended that defines us

This is the relationship between art&art-making and science, in my opinion, the simplest example of this being the birth of the camera.

Before the camera, if you wanted a representative image or portrait of a thing or person, some other person had to painstakingly paint the thing or portrait. Painting as documentation was not really art; representative &or portrait painting was practical.^^ Yes, of course, there are creative elements to the process found in the symbolism of objects, etc., but generally speaking, painting had become obsolete as a visual way to "realistically" represent the world around us in the new-era of the camera.

But the camera also "freed" painting to be whatever anyone wanted it to be, and we are presented (in art school) with what's considered to be the "new" ideas of what painting could be in the early Impressionist-era art-making of rich, bored white men. And nowadays, everyone can guess which "drip painting" belongs to a very specific white man. 

Another simple example is the printing press. The invention and subsequent use of the printing press made manuscript painting obsolete. Human people used to both painstakingly hand-write and hand-paint copies of writings and illustrations. After the printing press, these "artists" (human laborers) were no longer needed, and a new form of "art" emerged in print-making, etchings made out of wood that were then easily reprinted, no different than text. Again, painting in this form wasn't considered art; painting was a skill. 

Nowadays, people mostly think of painting as a form of art-making, and it is treated as such. This piece is not about painting, and so, I am going to move on now.

Extrapolate these advancements and their relationship to art and art-making into the NOW. 

We see the potential of AI to make human labor obsolete.

If human labor is obsolete, then everything that the human does, theoretically, could be considered art and art-making, or more realistically, content creation.

Extrapolate these advancements and their relationship to art and art-making into the far, far FUTURE, and we arrive at Mickey 17. 

For the past few weeks I've been paying attention to the headlines surrounding this movie. As a Korean, I am obviously biased toward Korean film-making, and as the first director to ever win Best Picture for a non-english film at the Oscars, 봉준호 movies are on my radar. We, literally, have not paid to see a movie in theaters since 2018. In 2019, we saw a movie in a theater, but only because someone bought us tickets. Then the happy-covid times trapped us on the Colorado Front Range, and if you know anything about that place, it is probably the number of mass shootings that have occurred in that area of the country, so yea, going to the movies has been out of the question, for me, for quite some time. Also, I don't think that most movies these days need to be experienced in a theater. There are exceptions (and I do wish that I had/could've watched them in a theater), but they are few.

A lot of these headlines described Mickey 17 as an anti-capitalist story &or a scathing portrayal of the current U.S. president, etc., etc., etc. Other headlines struck an almost-surprising tone that this is the type of movie that 봉준호 decided to make after his historic Oscars win, etc., etc., etc. And then I found out, as the credits rolled, that the film is an adaptation of a novel called Mickey 7. I've only seen two other 봉준호 flicks, Parasite, obviously, and The Host. I enjoyed them both, and after only seeing these two movies of his, Mickey 7 didn't surprise me at all as a story that he'd want to bring to life.

I don't know who the author of the original sci-fi premise is; never heard of him, and sadly, I will probably not read the source material. I might, though. I do like, however, that his profile pic on amazon is a partial pic of a white guy, and that that's all I know of him. He gets it. 

My point, if I ever actually get to it, is that the 봉준호 movie of the Mickey story is about the obsolescence of humanness. Sure, there are capitalistic elements to the story, and capitalism-as-usual these days is all-bad, and so, any story that depicts capitalism is generally perceived as being anti-capitalist, when sometimes, the story is not about capitalism, because capitalism is simply the water in which the story exists, etc. That's how I view 봉준호's Mickey (cause, as aforementioned, I am unfamiliar with the source material), with regards to its so-called "anti-capitalist" labeling.

The broader question is about consciousness, human consciousness as opposed to the singularity. 

If, in the broader context of my extrapolation of science/technology and its obligatory affect on art and art-making, and if we imagine human life and living as the conscious-being "driving" its human body, Mickey 17 wonders what the point of our human life is in the face of an ultimate advancement in technology, that advancement being human cloning.

The Ultimate Advancement:

Not to make intelligent that which is artificial,

but to make artificial that which is intelligent. 

Thus, if it is artificial intelligence that is the only type of intelligence that can bring about intelligence, artificially, then the question is not only about the purpose of humanity, but also, it is fundamentally a question about the definition of "human."

Mickey 17 was presumed dead, thus Mickey 18 was printed. The catalyst of the story was the Idea of "Multiples," a dreadful practice, according to the movie, because humans are, intrinsically flawed. The obvious problem of "multiples" is the obvious downside, played out in the movie. The underlying downside, however, is played out in Mickey 17. Mickey 17 understands that he is not Mickey 18. Mickey 18 is his own being. They are clones. They share the same memories, but physical body that inherits these memories—the matrix of their personality—will not necessarily make the same decisions and come to the same conclusions. And this idea is also played out in another sci-fi novel turned screen-fodder, Foundation, but the conclusion is different, cause the purpose of the clones is different.

The difference is power. The clones of Foundation represent the powers that be (puppets though they are). Mickey represents the exploited and powerless. And it is because Mickey is being exploited that we poor normies who make up the 99% can identify with the following conundrum:

If, at some point, we exist in a Mickey-like future of technological advancement, that means that You are the painted portrait, and You 001 is the invention of the camera. Theoretically this ought to "free" You from any sort of practical purpose. Your You-life, theoretically, exists as Art. Any and everything that You do is art and art-making. What does that make of You 001, the practical laborer? Black Mirror touched on this with the egg-episode wherein we watch a woman-character "upload" a copy of herself into her smart-home device. There is a Her, who lives, and a Her 001 who labors. 

Same idea is being played out in Severance, too. *shrug*

But there fundamentally is a difference between these depictions because Mickey hosts a new body. Each Mickey is a whole human, not a split human. Each Mickey is an individual inhabiting its own body. It is the mind/body connection of consciousness that Mickey 17 challenges. The art-like pursuit of challenging the world's ideas is evident, to me, through the existence of both Mickeys at the same time, the technological advancement that makes obsolete its predecessor, making Mickey 17 prime fodder for art and art-making, because Mickey 18 has a job to do. 

Unfortunately, I've thought about exactly this nature of consciousness for some time now, and I fall heavily into the camp of Mickey 17. I know that if I "upload" my consciousness, that "person" will not be Me. It will look like me, sound like me, and maybe even behave an awful lot like me, but it will not be me, the me sitting here writing this here piece. I will no longer exist once my organic, physical body exhales its last breath. The Substance (the fact that this movie did not win, in the light of how shitty the "best" movies of 2024 actually were, tells me everything I need to know about the stories that are being valued by our current cultural overlords) made a different point, but the message is the same: You are one. 

In the end, be it your own clone or some other-worldly woolly roll, why would any living thing need to be treated as if its life has no purpose?

 

*when we arrived, there was one ticket-taker and one customer (a pair), and the old asian man, as his old asian wife meandered away, was asking questions as if he'd never even been to the movies before. it was no problem; i have no gripes about things like this when we are early, which is why it is the goal to always arrive early, nevertheless, once the old man had finally done his thing, this was when he noticed us, other people in line behind him, and then he gingerly went on his way. as we approached the ticket-taker, the bodybuddy/lifemate, as he held out a credit card, said, "Hi, I ordered tickets online with this credit card." The ticket-taker took his card, swiped it at her POS station, three small pieces of paper were spit out of the receipt machine, and as she pointed, she said, "Theater 8 is over there." Ten seconds tops. These are the small moments that make me fall in love with my bodybuddy/lifemate over and over again. 

^^i am, obviously, not-doing a historical deep dive of art history, at this time, but even the representative images of the Renaissance, e.g. Michelangelo's Sistine Chapel, etc., is still considered a practical skill. the painters of this time had little to no creative liberty on the subject matter. these paintings are from a time when painting was a skill no different than construction or advertising. an "artist," say Michelangelo, had a "crew" of skilled painters, and then he was hired to create exactly what the patron commissioned, not art. these old works by "masters" are not creative expressions of an artist. they are the culmination of a crew of laborers, exercising a then-valued skill. we call it "art" in the greater context of human creation, but it is not art, in my annoyed opinion; they're ads. it's sorta like if a soda commercial from 2025 was the only surviving "video" of some future apocalypse, and the aliens that find this planet in the future uphold the ad as a representation of our art, etc. 

2025 March (front + back) Cover(s)

about two years &one month ago, i said that 'the war of the new millennium will be a war over minerals, not fuel,' in a post titled, 'The State of Our Union—an opinion on an Address'*

&So, if you're confused &or embarrassed by the behavior of our current national leadership, I have one question for you: Have you been living under a rock?

Ukraine has a serious load of rare-earth minerals (and regular old, high-demand minerals, etc.). Ukraine has not developed a mining system; the country has historically had other export strengths.

Russia, the antiquated entity that it is, decided to just go in there and take the country for its own, through the violent act of war.

These United States, under its current Tyrant, decided that they also want Ukraine's minerals, and so, in essence, told the president of Ukraine to agree to the terms of the United Statesian mineral deal, or we'll just let Russia take you, through a thug-like act of bullying. Like, are we in middle school, boys?

&There you have it.

*a link to the 2023 February post   

FREE THE PHOTONS!

You have no enemies, you say?

Alas, my friend, the boast is poor.

He who has mingled in the fray of duty that the brave endure, must have made foes.

If you have none, small is the work that you have done.

You've hit no traitor on the hip.

You've dashed no cup from perjured lip.

You've never turned the wrong to right.

You've been a coward in the fight.

— Charles Mackay's "No Enemies" (1846)

There's a country.

And its people successfully laid down enemy fire on U.S. soil.

And then, the people of the U.S. dropped The Bomb.

The country was then both officially, internationally prohibited an offensive military, while simultaneously, artificially elevated as a culture of significance. That Tyrannical "carrot & stick" at work, as it were.

When the people of the country were then presented to the U.S. as an artificial soft cultural power, some United Statesians ate that shit up, nevertheless, the artificial soft cultural power that the people of the U.S. believed was real began to fade.

The strange thing is that the country stole women from a neighboring country during these conflicts. 

Stole them for sex and breeding, due to their beauty.

And so, it's so strange to see the general appreciation for the women of the country who are, essentially, "half-breeds" of the beautiful women from the neighboring country. 

The neighboring country that is now exerting its significance.

And this significance is stark between the country that was asia's artificial soft cultural power and the neighboring country that is now asia's actual soft cultural powerhouse.

This stark contrast is most-easily seen in the present-future relevance of Parasite (the first non-english language film to ever win picture of the year at the white United Statesian oscar's), and the old-timey, Shogun (in case you didn't know, all of these current "wins" are consolation prizes, a sympathetic limelight for japan due to the overwhelming, global success of the korean film industry). The U.S. is currently, obviously, doing its damndest to artificially float the country's "soft cultural power," because it no longer exists.

 

"Helping out" the neighboring country, the current soft-cultural powerhouse, is over. Finally!  

Also, it's so strange to think that people from the country walk around so freely upon this Island upon which their country laid down the enemy fire that ended up being the final straw of U.S. Might. 

I have never felt so grateful for being born korean. 

Like, ever, seriously.

If I were japanese and living on this Island, I would be horrified to show my name around anywhere.

I would be filled with so much shame I'd have to run back to japan.

And yet, this place is crawling with them in positions of power, no less.

Like, ick. 

Like seriously, what a serious lack of racial self-awareness!

Even I know that I need to relinquish my position of power to my current deputy.

I do not owe it to her, because I earned that position. 

The position had been vacant for years.

But now, I know that I cannot just hunker down and wear that ring for as long as I please.

I may have deserved it, now, because I earned it, but I do not deserve it in the larger context of this place.

My deputy has earned it; she is Filipino. If she were Hawaiian, I would've quit the position immediately. 

Hawaiians are difficult to come by, however, by design.

I've been looking this whole time I've been here. 

I've been fortunate enough to meet a few.

I have to figure out a way to them. 

Because I am not wracked with guilt.

I've done nothing to the Hawaiian or Filipino people.

My life has not been inherited from the people who have devastated this place. 

I thank Ladybug every day, these days, for being born of my people.

Yes, of course, the land of my people is riddled with problems. 

EVERY LAND IS.

But they are fighting.

They are putting up the democratic fight for their lives and well-being.

Koreanness will NOT DIE. 

South Koreans will NOT BE DILUTED BY THEIR OPPRESSORS.

Both the male and female variety from the country about which I write, have approached me at my jobplace with a comment to the effect of, "Oh, well, you know, in japan, it's done like this." To which I generally respond, "Well, thank god we're not in japan!" or "I'm korean." But then, I realized that we kind of are living in a The Substance-like japan, and then, I realize that this is, obviously, the root of so many problems here. They've brought their mindset/ideology to these Islands! Even worse than the white man are the japanese for these Islands. This is obvious to me now. They hide behind the "majority asian" demographic here of the Islands, but THEY ARE NOT THE MAJORITY. They come here to exploit the demographic makeup of these Islands, do NOTHING to return the land to Hawaiians, and they put a strangle hold on the political climate... just like the culturally practiced torture of bonsai and ungodly-priced, square watermelon: YOU WILL NOT BE WHAT YOU ARE. WE WILL MAKE YOU WHAT WE IMAGINE YOU TO BE. BECAUSE WE KNOW BEST. BECAUSE WHAT WE VALUE IS WHAT SHOULD BE VALUED, AND ALL OTHER CULTURES VALUE LESSER THINGS.

They are overtly exploiting this place for their own race-gains. They also exploit the spirit of "aloha." The bodybuddy/lifemate was on the receiving end of the exploitation of "aloha," by an old japanese man. It is a heinous behavior to behold. They are suffocating this place into another failed japan. They refuse to understand their place in this world, and the ego required for this sort of behavior is absolutely horrifying. It is no wonder there is a mass exodus happening here, now. The Hawaiians have lost all Hope, too, and I couldn't be angrier. 

I've been to chile, south america, and there are white germans there. They were inconspicuous. They were embarrassed when I expressed, out loud, to some extent, that I didn't know that there were white people in chile. My older adopted brother explained it all to me later, and then I was embarrassed.

Call me japanese, and I'll prove to you that I am not. When you speak to me, I will treat you like the equal that you are, because you are human, first and foremost, not some lesser being that will be made better by my presence.

^..^

There's a country.

And its people successfully enslaved other groups of people in order to build itself into being. 

The largest group of these people being of african descent.

For centuries, the enslaved, even after being freed, lived a life of terror.

And for centuries, waves of progress would wash over the formerly-enslaved, now-freed, only to be met with regressive backlash. 

At some point, however, the general masses understood, and they could finally SEE.

It's true. 

The formerly-enslaved, now freeds have been receiving the short end of the stick by design. 

And yet, they rise.

Their progress is undeniable.

It should then be no surprise that their former/current oppressors are angered by their rise. 

THIS SHOULD BE NO SURPRISE.

The regressive backlash ought to be something for which there is a plan.

No individual enjoys watching some other individual rise.

Jealousy is real.

It ought to be the greatest motivator of all motivators to see the oppressors regress so hard.

They are jealous.

You are rising. 

It is undeniable. 

Nobody is going to help you anymore.

As an obvious cultural powerhouse, you are The Threat.

And yet, there seems to exist a confusion about the two examples I am going to outline now. They are not the same thing, and yet, they are being confused as the same.

Let's just say Person A is a mediocre-looking, less-than-mediocre practitioner of something on social media. Doesn't matter what their account is about, but their work is less-than-mediocre, and they are mediocre-looking. In social media terms, why would you expect to go viral? The only ugly people who go viral are mediocre white men (only because there are so many of them, the overwhelmingly vast majority of white men are mediocre; they're everywhere), like duh. Why do you think you "deserve" fame, simply because of the color of your skin? You want to be as mediocre and ugly as some white dude? What the hell is wrong with you?

Now, let's say Person B is not only fucking gorgeous, but also, the literal best at something that can be tangibly measured, say, a sprinter or gymnast. When a person like this is suppressed, it's obviously racism. People like this, of all colors (or lack thereof), ought to reach heights of social awareness due to their tangible greatness (this piece is, obviously, not-about the people who a society ought to make famous, etc.). This was not the case. For far too long, Globeaux Greatness has been suppressed, here, in these white United States. Why? Cause, like, white people are snowflakes. They literally throw a bitch fit when their kids don't win, so they created participation awards for their own kids. You think that these types of people are going to acknowledge actual greatness? What the hell is wrong with you? 

The thing is that Person A and Person B are being upheld as the same. 

And they are not the same. 

There's also this other thing about the types of gripes by some Person B types, and it sort of takes the form of, like, "I've always been amazing, but the White Spotlight won't shine on me until I'm the absolute BEST? And yet, mediocre white women are Spotlit all the time!"

First off, this is currently a white country. Like, generally speaking, people need to accept this. Yea, yea, but so many types of races built this country and the, "Whites won't give up their power!" 

BAHAHAHAHAHAHA!

Secondly, what's wrong with arriving at your BEST? 

You've officially become more powerful than the people around you, like duh? If the white "powers that be" finally have to go around and acknowledge your Globeaux Greatness, that means that you are more powerful than them. They need your power to spotlight their white selves, like duh! 

In the end, I suppose I'm growing sick and tired of certain minority groups of people continuing to equate fame with Power. &I feel like I will never understand them. It's similar to the way that I will never understand the black people who love, nay, revere japanese culture. Like seriously? You sound like the LGBTQ+ (&check out the hierarchy in these here letters! one imagines I'd be lambasted if I didn't order the letters properly, as if I couldn't possibly understand the community if I can't even remember the letters in order) community members fighting for palestine. You're uplifting, thereby aligning yourself with, those who would happily, overtly oppress you. Why?

The perfect irony of all of this is that no "normie" person on this planet could ever hope to possibly name the most powerful person on this planet. And the most-famous among us, celebrities, the ones we can all name by name, are powerless. The famous are not powerful; they are pawns. Don't get it twisted. 

darkness does not lack light
darkness is simply the shadow of someone or something blocking out the light
absorbing it all for them or itself
remove the person or the thing in the light's path
free the photons!
there're enough to share