Best thing about screwing over Losers is making them fund their betters. Property taxes and inflated rents to buy stadiums and Pads for Jocks. Loser taxpayers funding height studies. Society used to fund Losers more I.e. by funding state universities directly rather than through loans. Now Losers must pay immense Student Loans and society is thriving as a result.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5725238&forum_id=2#48932794)

The moment man learned to string copper through the earth, some Tall Guy in a waistcoat was hunched over the rig tapping out his height. Dot dot dash — "Six foot four." They didn’t use telegraphs for war or weather or the grain prices in Des Moines. No. They used them to signal their phenotype. The telegraph was not invented. It was summoned by the tall.

https://i.redd.it/nv7u4v1vlk1f1.png

In every age, they find the newest conduit — the stele, the drum, the scroll, the wire, the feed — and they broadcast themselves. Soon they wanted voice. The first phone call was not about business. It was not urgent. It was vain. A Tall Guy bellowing down a wire to another Tall Guy. They wanted to hear the height in each other’s voices. And like everything else, it scaled. The wires coiled across continents. Switchboards screamed with the clamor of women patching through yet another Tall Guy’s call. The Bell System became a spine for height transmission. By the 1940s, a lanky accountant in Kansas could phone in his stature to a secretary in Tallahassee and she would swoon.

And as the century wore on, they made sure you could carry the phone with you. Tall Guys didn’t just dominate space anymore — now they dominated airwaves.

From tin-can acoustics to 5G towers, every upgrade has served one goal: allow the Tall Guy to describe how good it is to be him — louder, clearer, smoother, deeper.

The telephone didn’t flatten the world.

It elevated them.

The first selfie was just a daguerreotype of a man standing beside a barn to prove he was taller than it.

The first email? "Subject: 6’3, btw"

Every app becomes the same app. Every technology bends, inevitably, toward this grotesque display. The signal becomes the sigil. We decode nothing but vertical self-worship.

They sit in ergonomic chairs never made to fit them. They stretch out in airplane seats, knees splayed like cracked masonry. They post “lol this bed is too small” with a smirk, and it goes viral.

Height is the only thing that never needed a manifesto. It announces itself. Yet they write one anyway. Every profile: a gospel. Every inch: a sermon. They never say “I’m kind” or “I listen” or “I’ve suffered.” They say: “6'2.” A single number. And the world moves. The internet didn’t change this. It just sped it up. The wires hum with their boasting. The grid is choked with their silhouettes. Every feed is just a forest of them, roots shallow, canopy high, growing toward praise.

And you, Loser, are paying for it. Your taxes. Your rent. Your attention. You’re the base of the pyramid and they are the tip. A tip they typed out in Morse code 150 years ago and never stopped tapping. And they know it.

(http://www.autoadmit.com/thread.php?thread_id=5725238&forum_id=2#48941397)