Intelligient young man

	-67	Intelligient young man is a forced meme? Heckin' downvoted

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This aryan is an admirable gerontophile
You can appreciate him by ordering a paid-for 'za to their house

Pedo-meter 3000: ▲

Why yes, Intelligient young man is a gigachad.
How could you tell?

This page is coal. (You) VILL help by completely recarbonizing it.

Intelligient young man (also known as Intelligent young man) is a NAS inside joke that was first posted to /soy/ on April 3rd, 2026. The original image comes from a 2020 Shutterstock photo, captioned "Young african businessman smiling while standing in co-working office."

Just one of the many strange CSS elements that began popping up on /soy/ threads afterwards, along with another graphic on the bottom right corner.

For reasons unknown to the goyim, Slitherjak made a post on /soy/ with the image, stating "soyjaks will be banned forever starting now. fuck you." The photo was also forced onto the top of the /soy/ board with strange banners, updating every few seconds, and threads that contained images of him got custom CSS elements. With the speed and sheer amount of these additions, its likely that this "event" (or whatever the fuck its supposed to be) was planned way in advance before taking place, but it's still too soon to say.

As of April 3rd, 2026, the sudden outbreak of intelligent young men has been confined to /soy/ alone, but Dr. Fauci has commented that it may spread to other boards if we all don't wash our hands and social distance.^{[It just will, okay?]}

The tragic backstory & rise to glory

Before he was known as an intelligient young man, he was just Daquavius Dontay III; a young boy from southside Chicago who had a difficult upbringing. After his father Tyrone got swiss-cheesed by law enforcement (he was trying to use a counterfeit $20 bill to buy cigarettes or something), him and his mother had to move into Parkway Gardens, as they could no longer afford rent without Tyrone's child support payments. Throughout the years, the rise of gang violence, drug & alcohol abuse, prostitution, and shitty drill beats produced by 14 year olds with an FL Studio trial turned the once bright and jubilant Daquavius into a jaded, pessimistic teenager.

In the dead of night, where gentle birdsong and wind-chimes once soothed him to sleep, he was now kept awake by the constant cacophony of gunshots and sirens. During these restless nights, however, he sometimes pondered about what the future held for him. Perhaps these sounds were a desperate warning from the world, trying its hardest to convince him not to fall down the same path of hedonism and brutality that his peers had fallen victim to. Or, perhaps, they were a cold reminder of the dreams and aspirations that had been stolen from him by his environment.

The turning point arrived not through a grand epiphany, but in the heavy silence of a Sunday morning. Staring into a cracked mirror, the yellow sweater—a thrift-store find that was the only clean garment he owned—felt less like fabric and more like a shroud. He realized the gunfire and sirens weren't just mocking his poverty; they were scoring the tragedy of his life. Continuing down this path, his lasting mark on the world would be nothing more than a chalk outline on the pavement of King Drive, his final words spoken for him by a Lil Durk clone with 12 followers on Soundcloud, his final signature, a simple "L.L.D. 💔🕊️" on his friend Jamal's Instagram biography.

And yet, in this revelation, a sense of newfound ambition seemed to arise from his heart. He realized that even if the world had already written his ending in cold, grey ink, he was still the one holding the pen. He looked at the shadows of O-Block and saw them for what they truly were: a stage he had outgrown.

"I'm not a character in their tragedy," he whispered, his voice steady against the distant wail of a siren. "I'm the author of my own."

And so, he decided to edit the script, trading his bitterness for a textbook and his exhaustion for a relentless, quiet fire. The yellow sweater was no longer a shroud of poverty, but the costume for a brand new act—one where the music finally changed, and the boy from the concrete finally found his peace. He began treating the local library as a fortress, using the stacks of books as a shield from the noise of the streets. While his peers perfected their aim, Daquavius obsessed over calculus and computer science, viewing every equation as a way to impose order on a life defined by entropy. Along with his schoolwork, he also got a job at the Sproke factory, putting in 70 hours a week doing grueling manual labor, in order to save up for a new home outside of the city. It was beyond brootal. Some nights, coming home from the Sproke factory, he would slump backwards against the wall as a tear fell down from his eye, too exhausted to properly articulate his feelings. And yet every morning, he would wake up, put on his yellow sweater, re-adjust his glasses, and greet the day ahead with a smile.

And eventually, his hard work would pay off. He would end up graduating from the University of Soythern Illinois with a bachelors degree in Computer Soyence, and an offer from a brand new tech startup to develop new AI crime prediction models. As he grabbed the diploma with his hands and nodded at the dean, his mother, near the back of the crowd, shed a tear. Not from sorrow or anger like she had many times before, but of joy and pride. As the ceremonies came to an end, he walked over to his mother as they shared one last hug before he left to the airport to start his new life. She had one last request before he got in the taxi to leave, however; a photo of him to remember him by. And of course, Daquavius agreeed.

As the camera shutter clicked, his mother’s hands trembled with a pride that finally outweighed her trauma, capturing a moment that the city had tried for eighteen years to prevent. In that frame, the harsh neon of the sirens was replaced by the soft glow of a June afternoon, immortalizing the boy who had edited his own tragedy into a masterpiece—the graduate, the author of his own future; the intelligient young man.

Gallery

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  The original Intelligient young man
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