no tomfoolery

“Wise men talk because they have something to say, stupid men talk because they have to say something.”

I was not always an intellectual snob.  I used to downplay my cerebral gifts because I didn’t want to project an egghead image to the world.  Growing up in the eighties, I looked up to vapid fashion victims as my role models.  I defined myself by my appearance rather than my brain.  Later in life, I discovered that knowledge is power, and I learned to embrace my inner Dexter.  Nowadays, I do not suffer fools gladly.  I do not expect everyone I encounter to have a brilliant mind, but I do demand a certain level of communication skills.  I have always been clever, but now I would like people to consider me intelligent.  Having wrestled with my own demons, you would think I would have more tolerance for our dumbed down culture.  But I have no patience with these retarded robots.  This is not a new phenomenon, but there is plenty of discourse about our idiot nation.  In particular, it seems as if Hollywood has become invaded by mentally-challenged young starlets.  Tinseltown has never been a Mensa convention, but there has been a wave of simpletons vying for our attention.  Don’t get me wrong.  Stupid people have a right to exist, I just don’t have to sit up and listen to them.  Unless I am trying to sell them designer jewelry, of course!  This nitwit cultural trend has produced an avalanche of pop songs about this breed of dense divas.  Pink, Garbage and other pop stars have taken their own musical pot shots.  But Thomas Dolby summed up our generation of blockhead babes back in 88.