Out of 4 stocks

1st 3 likely contribute to index

One may under perform (wipro)

Checking #Probability

Light travels at about 1 foot per nanosecond.

Hold your hand up 12 inches from your face: you’re seeing your hand as it was a nanosecond ago. Everything you look at is, to one degree or another, in the past. The farther away in space, the more ancient in time.

You can’t see the Sun as it is now, but you can see it as it was about 8 minutes ago. You can’t see Alpha Centauri now, but you can see it 4.4 years ago. You can see the Andromeda Galaxy as it was 2.5 million years in the past. And so on.

With powerful telescopes, we can see galaxies whose light has been traveling to us for more than 13 billion years. We see them shining in a universe that’s still young, where gravity has just begun to pull matter together into stars and galaxies.

We can see something even more distant, and more ancient, than the first galaxies. If we peer out far enough, in between the galaxies, we can see parts of the Universe that are so far away, it has taken the light from that distance almost the entire age of the cosmos to reach us.

So, you’re a writer and you’re worried about writing outside your immediate experiences and identities.

Here is the thread of practical advice for you.

EXAMINE YOUR MOTIVES. Why do you want to write this?

Are you trying to solve racism/sexism/colonialism with your work?

As writers we love stories about heroic writers whose work has changed the world. And as such we like to look to our own writing to solve societal problems.

And I understand this completely, not the least because I’ve felt the pull.

But if you’re looking to play saviour with your words, it is unlikely that you will do the marginalised people you are trying to save justice.

And I understand this very often comes from place of good intentions, but there is a reason that most of the moralising plays written by white abolitionists are deeply uncomfortable to read.

It is incredibly easy for works looking to play saviour to become patronising or traffic in simplistic stereotypes that ultimately hurt the people they are looking to rescue.

If there is one thing I have learned it is that people love bullshit. They buy bullshit stories from professional bullshit artists, accept bullshit philosophies, purchase bullshit how-to-books, vote for bullshitting politicians.

At first, I resisted believing this because it is illogical and dumb and frankly, doesn't reflect well on the human race of which I am a member (and thus have long been hopeful that it is more of a distinction than it actually turns out to be.)

But if you actually are interested in facts you begin to notice how little most people care for them. Sometimes it is because they are heard to learn and bullshit is so much more widely and easily available. Sometimes it is because facts make them uncomfortable about themselves.

Sometimes it is because just one tiny fact will upset a whole worldview that has grown as comfortable as an overstuffed chair. (Settling into such worldviews is a lot like settling into chairs like that because the longer you're there and the deeper you sink...

...the harder it is to hoist yourself up and out of your fat-assed intellectual laziness.) But I actually think the reason people have such an appetite for bullshit goes deeper, goes to an aspect of ourselves we just can't accept.

If you know me, you know I don't like broadcasting details about my personal life on this website, but I have been getting asked why I'm not doing Christmas this year so I just wanna put this whole mess to bed. First of all, I don't agree with gay marriage... (1 of 4,625)

... full of dog food and she said, "I'm pretending this is ice cream! Treat me like a baby!" and proceeded to hump her own arm and I thought, "something tells me this isn't the real Norah Jones"... (117 of 4,625)

...cost me $7,000. I had to put it on two separate credit cards! It wasn't 'til I got to my car that I realized "that's way too expensive for one onion." But I didn't have time. Amanda Seyfried was begging to change my diaper... (1,001 of 4,625)

...another Christmas miracle. Mistletoe, stockings, sleigh bells, snow! All these things I have put up my ass. The taste of coffee... (2,974 of 4,625)

...I felt a *very* cold finger on my cheek and I turned around and I said, "Grandma?" and she goes, "Surprise, I'm alive and I work at Sears!" I said, "okay"... (3,047 of 4,625)