Dear God, Grant me the Serenity…To Stay Away

Dear God grant me the courage to ignore the intellectuals, the serenity to ignore the idiots, and the wisdom to know the difference.


Scratch that last part. I’ll use the wisdom part somewhere else. Same difference, I think. (I don’t want to use up my chances, here)


Having met some really smart people, I’ve always lamented why I was not as smart as them. And, having met some really stupid people, I’ve always been grateful that I am not as stupid as them. Irrespective of what others think of me, that puts me somewhere in the middle. And if academic achievement was any measure, I have documentary proof. I’ve discovered that most intelligent beings can be quite stupid, and vice versa. Which does beget the question — how do I know people are intelligent, if I do not have the intelligence to discern intelligence in other people. A person of average intelligence may discern stupidity, if at all, but not higher intelligence. Let’s go with seemingly intelligent. Just to help this post chug along.

So, this seemingly intelligent person made — what a below-average intelligent person, would recognise — to be a stupid statement about another, relatively intelligent person. But I am not below-average. I am perfect average. So I did make the connection. The seemingly intelligent person and the relatively intelligent person – both – are my friends. Undoubtedly, I have respect for them both. Because, undoubtedly, both are above-average intelligent people, and I am just perfect-average. I do have a theory. Most intelligent people don’t understand humour. I apply that to myself. When I don’t understand a joke, I realise, I suffer from overintelligensia. Yes. I coined that word. I should, however, tell you, that more often than not, I do get the joke. Almost 99%. Further proof of my average intelligence.

12.09.32: Wood Block & Bottle

While the two intelligent people were duelling (one refused, almost to come and play), I was the one getting all the cuts of the intellectually wielded sabres. I wasn’t there really, it was all happening in my head. I didn’t die; in those cross cuts. I survived. And here’s the moral of the story of dealing with intelligent folks:

Stay away.


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