Yes, indeedy I do. Frustration consumes me. Stupid people, and their stupid-ness, consume me. In my line of work being frustrated by stupid people [if the teenagers I work with can be classed as people, heartless bitch that I am (today)] is a daily concern. And yet, it’s obviously not stupid in the sense of being dumb/thick/intellectually challenged that really pisses me off. It’s stupid in the sense of making ridiculous comments, not having a valid argument to compound a point, always being right even when wrong, never listening to reason, making false judgements about people just because of the way they look or act or speak, standing in my way when it’s obvious I want to be there [well, d’uh], presumptive superiority stemming from an egotistical character … the list is endless.
And so it’s ironic that at times it is I who becomes the most stupid person I know [physically know, obviously I could never be as stupid as people like Bush, with miniscule apologies to Bush fanatics].
I am intelligent. Not only do IQ tests reveal this [at anything from 116 – 152 depending on when taken, my state of mind, my tiredness, and whether my Logical Thinking Friend has come out to play], but I know it anyways. Cleverness, on the other hand, took one look at me and just managed to refrain from sticking its head in the nearest old-fashioned gas oven. The only time Cleverness got off its backside and made life easy for me was when it worked together with Intelligence and earnt me a 16/16 [or a First] for my Religious Studies dissertation [and yes, I am proud of it]. Previously to this Cleverness had taken a long holiday to some distant corner of my mind when I took my GCSEs [so that Intelligence stumbled a tad, got confused and could only help me get five A-C grades] and later spent far too long hibernating whilst I completed my two A’Levels, gaining the minimum grades required to get me to uni.
[If I was an eighteen year old now Cleverness would deliberately stop working painstakingly with Intelligence and I would not get to university, what with everyone needing three A’Levels. And university was the making of me so it’s all a bit sad really … thank goshness that I’m old and don’t have to live through that again]
But it isn’t all about exam results and gaining irrelevant qualifications which fundamentally account for nothing, something that pains me but is, oh-so, true.
So, what precisely is it that makes me Intelligent, but Stupid?
It’s the things I say – stupid, ridiculous things that I don’t actually realise are stupid until people look at me in perplexed amazement. It’s the way I stumble over my words thus creating a blush in my cheeks as bright as a London bus – word-stumbling makes even the most intelligent among us look stupid. It’s my innocent outlook on the world and taking everything at face value [I just this second got that from The Blokey, he didn’t even have to think about it] – apparently this makes me naive, but in a funny way. It’s the way I’m so loveable [yeh, I got that from Him too, bless his little cheeky-chops and no, I don’t suppose it is proof of my Stupid-ness at all]. It’s my slightly autistic characteristics. The way I detest eye contact. The way I start off listening but then start to daydream and forget to listen because my mind is thinking of something else, or possibly thinking of nothing at all, and it’s scary when that happens. My ability to [unintentionally] ignore people even when they’re right next to me. My refusal to talk to people I don’t know even if they’re simply trying to pass the time. My lack of balance [I could fall over for England, even when Wicked Cycle Women don’t knock me over]. My inability to remember simple instructions or information. My forgetfulness. Taking everything literally. The passion I have for my daily routine. Not getting some jokes unless they’re explained to me in-depth. Seeing the good in everybody, always. And yet getting thoroughly peeved with people when they annoy me. But they’re still good.
We’re all Stupid to a degree. I simply choose to be proud of my Stupid-ness. If I wasn’t intelligent then maybe I wouldn’t be so proud of it. Or maybe I simply wouldn’t have the capabilities of being proud of it.
And on a totally different vein, we’re off to see Creep. Gory fun! Or, possibly, a pile of poo …
please God bless all the stupid people in the world and let them be proud of it xxx Elsabeth