Stupidity: The Next Evolution

Let's face it, we are nearing the end of what humans are capable of. This isn't a lament it is just a recognition that in order to move forward as a species we must be willing to leave more and more of what we consider "us" behind. Past generations created machines to do the heavy lifting and made vehicles to transport us to places that we could not travel to with our own two feet.  Eventually we concocted computers to do our deep thinking and more recently our short term memory has been replaced by a google app on our smart phones. Scientists have also made exponential leaps in recent years toward the eradication of potent diseases and have explored the benefits of cloning vital organs to increase our chances of survival.

Sadly though in spite of our inventive spirit we are struggling to reach a new frontier because of the limitations of our human bodies. Our eyes have a specific resolution capacity and spectrum of colors. Our brains do not process that quickly. Our tissue (the breathing, eating, shitting parts) are so haphazard and unreliable it is a wonder we can get anything done in a day besides keeping them running. They don't hold up when it's too cold or too hot. They are neither strong or durable and tend to operate very poorly without oxygen  or when placed under extreme gravitational pressure.

An Asimovian future imagines us blending with machines, having them assist us first as peripherals and then as androids before their eventual take over and destruction of the earth ala The Matrix. I disagree with this imagined end. I think (potentially) it would be much more gradual and much less violent. 

At some point it will become clear to humans that all of our action to enhance and further human life have been in vain.The human form is antiquated and has no place in the harsh comet colliding future. The computers that we have created will eventually surpass us both logically and artistically and our relevance will no longer exist. Certainly a few proud, ignorant fools may cling to their egos but the rest of us, the forward thinkers will eventually seek to bolster the superior race that we created. We will begin to feel silly and inadequate, our numbers will dwindle until we finally will ourselves out of existence.

So what then is the purpose and prevalence of stupidity in this day and age? Stupidity is a subconscious human defense mechanism whose purpose is to inhibit the annihilation of the species. What other possible reason could there be in a world where we know what the right answer is but continually choose the opposite?. Instead of living as civil citizens we desire to dream up absurd and logically unfounded reasons to go to war. We elevate idiots to the height of royalty and shower them with money and praise. We've accepted "nerd cool" as look so that ugly people can get laid and forget about their textbooks. We pass all of our life observations through a Larry the Cable Guy prism in order to achieve cheap meaningless laughs. we scoff at politics and philosophy and adamantly deny their application in our current lives. The word "thinking" has become synonymous with the word "boring." 

I won't deny that a small dedicated collective of forward thinkers exist who are trying to massage the world into a more intelligent era. However, the rise of intelligence seems to have bred a louder crop of apathetic idiots. The purpose of these idiots is to defeat intelligent thought or at least muddy and encumber its forward progress to extend the life of the human race. It is an evolution posing as a de-evolution that your grandchildren and your grandchildren's children will live to appreciate.

Guy Who Explains Things Unnecessarily

This one is sort of self explanatory but in honor of the topic, I will explain it anyway. 


Guy who explains things unnecessarily is everywhere, you could say he is everyman. To be fair, some men know their limits and eventually shut the hell up. GWETU is a close cousin to street smarts guy but is an evolved and perhaps more successful form. For all intents and purposes GEWTU might even be your own father so here's how to tell. For the rest of this blog I will refer to GWETU as "G".


"G" fancies himself an intellectual but he lacks what true intellectuals possess and that is important, useful information or in depth knowledge on any topic. "G" does however have plenty of information you already know/don't care about and he is particularly interested in proving his knowledge with or without your consent. 

Me: Hey "G" can you pass me that DVD?
G: DVD eh, so you want the ol' digital versatile disc or the ol' digital video disc.
Me: sure.
G: Ya know, before DVD's  we used to use VHS tapes.
Me: VHS huh, do you know what that stands for?
G: Nope, but, they did become the predominant form of taped movies edging out betamax back in the day. Heck, some believe it was a superior device, god bless advertisin'. But that was before they had all this new technology. Sheese, you can't even buy a regular light bulb anymore.
Me: Tell me about it.
G: Hey, didja know that the double yew besides the number on a light bulb means watts?
Me: Um, sure.
G: Hmm... all of this chatter has made me hungry could you make me a sammich?
Me: Sure what kind?
G: How's bout peanut butter.
Me: Ok
G: You gotta be careful when you make a peanut butter sammich. You gotta spread the PB smoothly so that both pieces have an even coat, not too thick, not too thin. Say, did you know contrary to popular belief that peanuts don't grow in trees? in fact they grow from a plant underground, thus the name Planters Peanuts.
Me: Really.
G: Indubitably!

This exchange could go on for hours. No indication of boredom, disinterest or annoyance can combat "G" when he is on a roll. You only hope in dismantling the conversation is cutting "G" off before he somehow integrates the thing he is explaining into a past life experience or a memory about a particular friend/family member with whom he had a bad experience. If this happens then you better get some popcorn because "G" is libel to continue explaining things unnecessarily until one of you falls asleep.

Fuck The Like Button

90% of my Facebook activities revolve around poking my father. It should come as no surprise that I do not like Facebook. I don't dislike it for the same trendy reasons that the wannabe misanthropists do it. I don't dislike it because I am counter culture. I don't dislike it because it is primarily a tool for stupid people to congregate and exchange ideas. I simply reject it because of its premise and that premise is to share your life experiences with your friends and family. As a misanthrope with no money, how many friends could I really have and how valuable could a tool like Facebook be toward serving my needs? If anything, Facebook only exposes and shares my secrets with people that I don't really like, secrets that I probably wouldn't have talked about if I didn't feel obligated.  

As I've said before however, the only thing worse than acquainting yourself with a piece of technology or service that you don't like is being left behind by society. So I've bought in to a certain degree I'm not trying to pad my friends list or push a religious/political/environmental agenda but I will send you some gifts in farmville and take a survey from time to time. If you are a loyal Facebook user the only thing I ask of you is that use the "like" button with discretion. 


When I pen a status update I think about it and I try to be clever or interesting. Below is an example of a recent one:


"I'm thinking about starting a company that sells equipment to help older cats live healthier more active lives. I'm going to call it: Feline Aids."


Granted this status may not tickle your funny bone and I understand that. I don't expect everyone on my list to like everything that I say. However, I will then see someone else's status like this:


"Just bought some batteries" 

This status gets 4 "likes" and a discussion about what kind of batteries/what size are your favorites ensues. I don't want to call people outright dumb so I'll have to do it indirectly. What the Fuck people? I know that thinking on any level is difficult but you are presenting and supporting the idea that you are an idiot by "liking" and engaging in these topics. If you are making these status updates you should be ashamed. Unless you are posting on Facebook to let your brother/sister know that you have walked their dog which you are babysitting then there is no reason to report it. The only thing you are saying to sane intelligent people when you make a useless comment is "I am boring and useless but I want attention because I am narcissistic." If you are "liking" and replying to these useless status updates you are saying "I am an idiot who doesn't have thoughts. Thankfully you've mentioned batteries, batteries are something that even an idiot has been acquainted with in life. As an idiot, I will now talk about batteries and praise you for bringing up the topic."

If you see something you don't understand, work to understand it. Inquire, ask questions. Being passive is a disease. Sure this entire commentary is fueled by jealousy but that's beside the point. It's hard enough for me to maintain the facade that I support the human race as it is please don't make it more difficult by liking the fact that some dumbass ate a cookie.

Rememberies Volume 2

The Job I Got Fired From (The really looooooong version)

To think back on it now, it seems like 10 years ago, well in fact, it was 10 years ago. Boy bands were at their zenith, the world had averted Y2K Armageddon and I, a fat headed boy of 19 (or 20) years was in pursuit of a career I could really dig my teeth into. My friend had recently secured a job at a collection agency. He told me that my qualifications were perfect for the job they had really low standards. I found my best dickie/sweater combo and bolted out of the house to fill out an application at their place of business.

The "business" was named Common Collection Agency, later renamed Common Corruption Agency by me. It was  the type of place that perpetually looked like they had just moved in. Row upon row of dirty desks were littered with giant old style computer monitors and uniform black multi button phones. I would liken it to a chicken coop if chickens had to make phone calls all day instead of pooping out eggs. 


Needless to say, my interview went well. I possessed the two things they required to work there, a pulse and a voice. I was hired and scheduled to start immediately. The next day I came in and was introduced to my cell mate team mate named Gary Hambley who was assigned to show me the ropes. I bet you're wondering how I remember a guys name from 10 years ago that I barely knew, well I'll tell you. In the collector world you have to make a lot of phone calls and many of them go to voicemail.  Regardless of who he was talking to, Gary made certain that the person on the line knew who they were talking to. "Hello, my name is Gary Hambley, H-A-M....B-Elly-Why" That's how he would say it 900 times a day. I can't complain too much about him as he was one of the good ones. I found a current picture of him on Facebook. Gary, if you're reading this, just email me and I'll remove the picture.

 There were two sides to the office. On one side they were doing legitimate collections for banks and credit cards. Our side however, was focused on getting people to pay off their Zellers card. Zellers is the equivalent to Target, perhaps a half a step down but not as pathetic as Walmart. The highest balance anyone could rack up on a Z-card was 300 dollars. From personal experience, the only person who maxes out their Zellers card is someone who can't afford groceries and has to make dinner with whatever odds and ends they can find at a department store. As a collector, it was imperative that we demand payment immediately. The only way to get paid immediately at the time was if someone went to Western Union and paid extra fees or personally delivered it. I don't know about you but  people who can't afford groceries and have to ride the bus don't knock down your door and thrust a valid check in your face. 

Needless to say our phone calls were many but our results were meager. Not to fear, a new section manager was hired by the name of Cleveland Pinder. Cleve was was a skinny black man of about 35. When I say skinny I mean Kenyan runner skinny. His origin was ambiguous because he didn't have an accent but if I had to guess I'd say that his parents immigrated from the Islands. As I recall Cleveland was short and slim but he compensated his small stature by having bulging white eyes. I suspect his hero must have been Mr T because his hands were covered with about 8 low quality gold rings. I don't know who said it first but my friend and I both referred to him as "Ludacris." we named him Luda because the first day he drove in in his 1989 Cutlass he had his stock stereo cranking out Ludacris at 9:30 in the morning. Cleveland will now be referred to as Ludacris for the rest of the story. Ludacris was poorly educated and I suspect everyone who has met him in his life thinks that he is a prick. Perhaps he is one of these people who have had to fight for every scrap they have ever gotten in life. Regardless, he was the killer combo of dumb and dickey.

After a few days of me and the other new recruits doing poorly Ludacris called a meeting. Earlier that day he passed me during break and spied me reading a copy of Bluebeard by Vonnegut. He shot me what I perceived to be a condescending look and minutes later said the following: "Some of you might be doing this part time or you might be going to University to get a degree but I chose collecting as a career." It was at this point that I released an unintentional and unexpected "Pssh" noise from my lips to indicate to him that I didn't respect his life's work. I was consciously forcing my bullshit detector to stop me from saying anything stupid but my backup bullshit detector sounded the alarm.  Who chooses hassling the elderly and people on welfare as a career without the benefit of the riches that a gang would offer? I don't know why little men in a position of dominance have to justify or build their mystique. Either way Ludacris was not happy and he cut the meeting short although he didn't address me directly. 

From then on Luda found ways to ride me hard. He kept demanding results and suggesting that I was not pursuing leads long or strong enough. He started babysitting me and tried to find ways to be condescending about my methods. My method went a little something like this: "Hello, please give me money because I don't want to yell at you. If you don't give me money the scary little ferret behind me is going to grab the phone and yell at you."  To be honest I wasn't very good at collecting. Many people found me to be pleasant and agreed to pay me on the phone but they never did. In order to succeed in job like that you have to willing to fill people with more shame and sadness then they already feel. 


There were several reason why I may have gotten fired but to this day I still don't know exactly why. All I know is that I was called into the big bosses offices and he told me that since I was working there for less than 3 months I did not pass their evaluation period. I inquired  why I was being shit canned but the coward could only muster "Uh, I legally don't have to tell you." Thinking back on it now they could have only fired me for 2 reasons: 1) Ludacris was insulted 2) My collection performance was poor. Either way it was a pretty weak move in my opinion to not tell me why I was being let go when I asked so casually and without hate or resentment in my voice. 

The funny part about this story is that I was fired at 11:30 in the morning and I had carpooled to work with my friend on that day. When they cut me I had to leave immediately. So there I was for the next hour milling around the front of the building waiting for my friend to come out for lunch. Before he came outside all of my coworkers filed out of the building and said "what happened" and individually I each had to tell them "yeah, I got shit canned."At some point Ludacris walked passed me and gave me and "I won" sneer. Finally my friend came out and I asked him for the car keys so I could sit in the car. For the next few hours I sat in the car and watch the daylight fade and the little lights come on inside the building. Eventually I watched the same people file out and walk past me and give me strange "What the hell are you still doing here looks." Finally my friend poked his ugly head out of the building got in the car and drove me away from that nightmare.