A Bold Prediction
Question three, inspired by this article.
University of Virginia: “Make a bold prediction about something in the year 2020 that no one else has made a bold prediction about.”
I don’t mean that as some sort of cliché here, because I am literally amazed, and I use the term “literally” not in the new sense that is just a new kind of exclamation, but in its literal, original sense: that I really am… amazed. I mean what do you people want from me?
Let’s break down your question here:
“Make a bold…” So you start out by requesting that I start or create something that is fearless. Oh, this is going to be exciting. I can do this. I am just thinking about what college I am going to, you know, starting out my adult life, filling out an application and this next question starts out with, “Make a bold…” What could this all be about? I am sure from such a prestigious university as this one that it is going to challenge me, make me think, be clear in the direction that I should go here when all is said and done. That the evaluators take their job seriously and will consider all applicants by this one single answer, this one request to start out bold. I look forward here, chin jutting out with pride, toward the future with this institution, and see bright things ahead.
“…prediction…” Ah, yes. Here we get to the meat of the issue. Of course this school wants us to look forward. We don’t want to look to the past. The past is for weak minds, for those pusillanimously cowering in the corner of their mind, their job, their relationships. For we are the Creators, we are the Initiators, we are the Fearless. We look to the future knowing full well it is coming at us ceaselessly, and we stand, chest out, steel in our stares, iron in our feet, the heat rushing through our souls to succeed in all endeavors. This brave institution wants to see into the depths of what we see, in ourselves, partnering with you in pride and accomplishment forseen. Let’s move forward!
“…about something…” Okay: “something”. This is getting interesting. We’re going to be looking for a bold prediction about something. We are going broad in scope here. We are still soaring above the earth, looking down, and we see… something. Well, maybe we’ll get a bit more specific here. I mean it’s only two words. Let’s keep reading.
“…in the year 2020…” Hmm… You’re losing me a bit here. But that’s alright! I know you, University of Virginia, wouldn’t steer me wrong. I am a college applicant in the year 2013. We should be able to see what may or may not happen in the year 2020. It’s only eight years away, we’ve got the world at our feet, clamoring for our attention in everything we do, and everywhere we go. We’ve got unboundless information at our fingertips. Sure we have to swim through loads of garbage and distractions on the way to find out who sang back up for that one band back in the seventies that we enjoy now. And, sure we don’t have flying cars regularly soaring through the sky-highways yet, and there are still calories in our food. But gosh darn-it: This is the Future. We should be able to see a mere eight years ahead. I can be bold in my predictions! I have a subscription to Wired magazine. Well, my friend does at least, and I look at it when I’m there. But don’t shortcut me off! I’m a visionary! Just you wait. Let’s finish reading this question off, baby!
“…that no one else has made a bold prediction about.” You’ve deflated me now, University of Virginia. I’m like one of those arm-waving air guys. I was root-a-toot-tooting along, cheering for my front-runner, “One arm up, the next one! And back again! Rah!” Head bobbing to the music you were playing. Then suddenly, a masked man with a knife, jumps out of the bushes, and slashes my left thigh, five inches high and a mile deep. All my energy is draining out of my leg. I want to cheer, want to lift myself to my former ecstatic glory, wave my tentacle like fingers high. But no; I pitch myself forward on my weakened leg only to be washed in the face by unrefreshing, oily smelling air. Despair fills me.
Can I make it up again? Can this hurt be healed? Perhaps. As I said we are living in the future, we are in fact The Future; albeit a future where the questions of mustard and robot aliens fill our college applications. But as I said before: I look always to the future boldly. I look toward a future where post-modern idiosyncratic uniters are abolished from forming college application questions. They’ll want to know where my loyalties lie. They look toward the advancement of logical questions such as “When you become an incredible success, because of the wonderful job our collective has emboldened to you, will you look favorably to giving us a portion of that “success”, for the government has withdrawn funds because of the kooky questions we developed back in the early teens of the modern millennia, and we have had to reduce tuition costs because students who can succeed are finding other avenues besides those of higher institutions that don’t hold to such ridiculousness?”
That, dear readers, is a bold prediction you can hang your hat on!