Most of my adult life I have been haunted by the disparity between my high intelligence and my low wages. But if you can't fix one end of a dilemma, you can perhaps hack away at the other. I have found a solution in strong drink, the steady consumption of TV programs and the unquestioning acceptance of thoughts provided to me by politicians and preachers.
5 comments:
So true, so true.
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Excessive IQ, like excessive height, is, in this mental midget society, of little or even negative utility. There is no point to being seven feet tall, or having an IQ over 135, except for the ability to see over everyone else's head.
Otherwise, you're like the average IQ guy driving the short bus: You still have to go where the less able want to go. Don't expect them to reward you for being smarter, or taller than them. Be thankful they don't tear you to pieces.
And be grateful you're able to cope with half-wits always being in the majority. It's easier being smarter than being taller: You can't hide taller. And it doesn't help you cope.
The worst thing you can do under the circumstances is to value yourself, your life, by retarded standards. If money were everything, then Buddha, Christ, Einstein, Darwin, Bach and Van Gogh, Orson Wells and Jack Kerouac were all losers.
Only pimps and prostitutes value everything solely in financial terms: They'll do anything for money, and nothing means anything to them except for its' cash value. Unfortunately, they are now universal role models. Doesn't mean you have to follow them...
Take some comfort in your abilities. Retards, Gawd bless 'em, are completely unable to appreciate the finer things in life, like art and literature. They are unable to understand what's going on around them. They don't even know where their home is on a map. They have no sense of history, no awareness of culture. To them, civilization begins and ends with the advanced creature comforts. They are just comfortable cavemen and women. They ask nothing, they contribute nothing, they regret nothing, they long for nothing. They are, goddamn them, happy. Insofar as a troglodyte is capable of true happiness.
You have a choice: be smart, or be happy. If you prefer happiness over intellect, send for free instructions on my patented Icepick Lobotomy, as seen on TV. Not sold in stores. Not available in the Deep South. (The market's already saturated.) Void where prohibited.
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