08:17 am on Sep 10, 2025 | read the article | tags: life lessons
at a recent all-hands, i felt a prick when the hr department proudly announced hiring multiple «olympiad medalists». don’t get me wrong – winning a medal in math, physics, or computer science is a real achievement. it takes talent, discipline, and hours of training. but it made me pause, because i’ve lived on the other side of that story.
when i was about seven or eight, i scavenged parts from my grandfather’s attic and built a working landline phone. my family wasn’t thrilled (i used it to call the speaking clock more than once), but that spark set the direction for my life. teachers noticed i had potential in math and science, and they pushed me forward.
but here’s the truth: raw intelligence alone wasn’t enough.
for years, i struggled at competitions until a dedicated teacher invested in me. he trained me like a coach trains an athlete: hours every day, six days a week, drilling problems until the techniques became second nature. with that support, i placed first in a national mixed math-physics competition and later ranked third in the math national olympiad.
and here’s another truth: talent and hard work aren’t enough if you’re poor.
my family often didn’t have enough food. we didn’t have proper heating in the winter. we had barely any money for school supplies. looking back, scarcity shaped me: no video games, no vacations, no distractions. my entertainment was stripping down broken radios and tvs, trying to make them work, or reading my grandfather’s stash of technical books. during summers, i fixed neighbors’ appliances for pocket money. it wasn’t glamorous, but it was real.
that experience taught me something competitions never could:
olympiad problems, for all their difficulty, are carefully designed puzzles. they reward pattern recognition and sustained focus. but the world doesn’t give you cleanly bounded puzzles. real problems are messy, incomplete, ambiguous. they involve people, trade-offs, and constraints you can’t control.
so yes – olympiad training builds focus and stamina. but so does fixing a broken stereo when your family can’t afford a new one. so does reverse-engineering electronics with no manual. so does navigating scarcity while still pushing forward in school.
that’s why i’m skeptical when medals are held up as the ultimate signal of ability. they show that someone had talent, and access to the resources and mentorship to polish it. but they’re not the only signal, nor the strongest one for long-term success.
the skills that last – resilience, adaptability, resourcefulness – often come from outside the competition hall. they come from life.
and in my case, they came from a cold attic full of old components, a hungry stomach, and the stubborn belief that i could make something work, even when nothing was given.
02:37 am on Feb 8, 2013 | read the article | tags: life lessons
Mercenary and auxiliary arms are useless and dangerous; and if one keeps his state founded on mercenary arms, one will never be firm or secure, for they are disunited, ambitious, without discipline, unfaithful; bold among friends, among enemies cowardly; no fear of God, no faith with men; ruin is postponed only as long as attack is postponed; and in peace you are despoiled by them, in war by the enemy. The cause f this is that they have no love nor cause to keep them in the field other than a small stipend, which is not sufficient to make them want to die for you.
the prince, niccolo machiavelli, 1513
08:38 pm on Dec 8, 2012 | read the article | tags: life lessons
Silviu Prigoană, pentru Playboy România (nr. 1(111), ianuarie 2009, pg. 43):
Preludiul nu-i o chestiune care se întâmplă în momentul în care te-ai aruncat în pat. Nu, femeia trebuie să aibă cinci orgasme până ajunge în pat, iar penetrarea să fie bonus. Femeia trebuie făcută în timpul zilei să-și dorească penetrarea. Dacă te duci acasă cu flori, deja femeia a avut un orgasm; dacă îi vorbești frumos și n-o jignești, îi mai oferi un orgasm; dacă îi lauzi mâncarea, alt orgasm.
sursă foto: Nașul.tv
08:59 pm on Dec 5, 2012 | read the article | tags: life lessons
Joshua Bell, after playing his $3.5 million Strad, at l’Enfant subway station in Whashington DC:
When you play for ticket-holders,” Bell explains, “you are already validated. I have no sense that I need to be accepted. I’m already accepted. Here, there was this thought: What if they don’t like me? What if they resent my presence …
In the same WP article, Mark Leithauser, a senior curator at the National Gallery explained:
Let’s say I took one of our more abstract masterpieces, say an Ellsworth Kelly, and removed it from its frame, marched it down the 52 steps that people walk up to get to the National Gallery, past the giant columns, and brought it into a restaurant. It’s a $5 million painting. And it’s one of those restaurants where there are pieces of original art for sale, by some industrious kids from the Corcoran School, and I hang that Kelly on the wall with a price tag of $150. No one is going to notice it. An art curator might look up and say: ‘Hey, that looks a little like an Ellsworth Kelly. Please pass the salt.’
(source: The Washington Post, April 8th, 2007)
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