Fuck that stupid ass old man and you fools who listened

There once was a young man and an old man. The young man worked in big industry, while the old man was a former military man. The young man focused all of his time and energy studying big industry and utilities. The old man believed in conspiracy theories, thoughtless notions for which there was no evidence. But the young man had incredible insight, a product of his persistence and determination. Some of the most angering times were when fools and idiots – the perfect sort of audience for the the old man – listened to his “wisdom” instead of the young man, whose real insight and discoveries were actually meant to change the world. As the young man began to change the world, he began to obtain followers, many more followers than the old man could ever dream of. 

These fools had no ability to even recognize genius. If thoughts were music, they would clap and cheer for a random collection of non-rhythmically played notes with equal appreciation and excitement (or much less so!!) that they would for a true work of musical genius. At night, this reality tormented the young man. He found it difficult to sleep, and often felt nearly paralyzed by all of the rage. But he kept going.

The young man made himself promises.  He would get big.  He would blow up.  He would change the world and change industry.  He would affect markets on a national or even global basis.  He would actually cause the change that the old man only talked about.  He would win through action.  He would have to walk through the valley of doubt and death, but he would win, and the triumph would be as sweet as the struggle was bitter.  Success truly would be his revenge.  Revenge would come in the form of all the attention and appreciation that his success would bring him.  

Not just his financial success (and he was all to familiar with how easily people are swayed by money), but also the intellectual greatness (that which the old man did not possess, but was believed to!) to accomplish success, to make the picture in his head (the old man shut up, hopefully silenced by mother nature to allow the new fresh blood to come in) a reality.  He would be honored and praised for making his dream come true, and part of his dream was this very thing:  to be known for an actual real-world accomplishment.  It was the old man's fakeness and unsupportable claims that he found so angering, and the depth with which these idiotic ramblings infatuated and fascinated the fools you listened.  On occassion, they would even interrupt the young man's work and thoughts to talk about this utter fucking nonsense.  

But the young man kept going.

This an example of reality making the final determination of glory. Although it made the young man sick to have to endure the fools in his face blathering about the old man's nonsense, the young man persisted through these times – he continued to the swim through the bog of unrecognized genius – and eventually won. Now, the tables are reversed. The old man is dead, and no one will remember his cockamamie, half-insane ideas. And the crazy genius, whose intellect is just as crazy as the old man's ideas were ridiculous... changed the world and is remembered by history. Cesare Borgia would approve.