In what is quite possibly the stupidest shit posted on the Internet in the past week, John “15 Year Olds Dude” Derbyshire reprints a reader email which begrudges Sotomayor’s so-called “compelling life story.” 

What the LIEbrulmeandia just doesn’t get (but the Derb’s reader does) is that being a Puerto Rican female raised by a single mother in a South Bronx housing project in the 1960s and 1970s is yet another example of the rich getting richer.  A timeworn tale of privilege, legacy and gold fronts silver spoons.

Derb — I’ve been hoping that someone might be bold enough to rain on the Sotomayor “compelling life story” parade.

The woman grew up in the capital of the world, went to two Ivy League schools, and was blessed by Providence with the precisely correct right race-gender two-fer for the moment.

This is a story of privilege, dammit, not adversity.

Word. 

For me, on the other hand, life’s been a non-stop hustle from the jump:  grew up white, male and middle class in the suburbs, raised in a stable two-parent home with money for college…I marvel that I somehow managed to make it out alive and not end up just another statistic.  The shit, as they say, was of the realest variety.

Despite surviving that ordeal, my ceiling is as low as my birth.

If only I could’ve caught a break, lost my pops, seen my mom scrub some toilets and moved to the projects, I’d probably be John Roberts by now.  Cause that’s pretty much how kids from the projects roll. 

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