Hi, I’m uneducated. Umm, well, I did go to college, several times. I called it “adult kindergarten.” I was an art major most of the time which explains a lot. Finished with an undergrad in Psych. So maybe I’m just naïve, unworldly, sheltered and unabashedly think it’s okay to ask dumb questions.
You need that background before I begin inquiring how much I don’t know about the Mensa organization or its members. I am curious about a lot of things. Like, are they considered a “society” or an “association”? Maybe they are thought of as a “herd” or a “pride” of Mensa folk. I like that a group of zebra are called a “dazzle,”maybe they would consider being called a Dazzle of Mensa? That sounds pretty lofty, kind of special in a spectacular, glittery way, don’t you think?
Actually, otters are called a romp and if I were a menserian (?), I would like to be known in a group called a Romp of Mensa. Off on a tangent, sorry. My paintings trail off like too, but never mind, that’s another story.
In any case, I have known only one person that belonged to that organization and although I liked him, I did not think of him as particularly brilliant. There were no flashing arrows above his head pointing down at him saying “here is an intellectual giant!” His main preoccupation for every day of the week was how his hair looked. It was a mantra in the form of a question: “How does my hair look?” End of mantra, rinse and repeat. Wait a second! Come to think of it, perhaps he was lowering himself to the general public’s level, my level. How will I ever know or even ask him? Of course, he would be smart enough to tell me something that wouldn’t hurt my feelings yet show that he really is smart enough to belong to a “smart group.” Or maybe he doesn’t care whether people think he’s smart as long as his hair looks good.
Are there “smart stores”? Do the benefits of belonging to this “wisdom” (that’s what they call a group of wombats – honestly, I didn’t make that up) entitle them to “smart store” coupons? Or do they go to stores at all? If they were really that smart they would be able to make everything they needed to live.
Oh good grief, I am so dumb. They probably own all the stores, right? If I were one of those people, I would own a combination grocery store and Macy’s. Macy-Mart. Done, no need to bother with the rest of the riff-raff or the “clew” (bunch of worms).
So really, what do they do all day long? What do they do when they get together? Trade “smart cards” (and I don’t mean DC metro cards). Or do they sit around smoking pipes, drinking 100 year-old whiskey with butlers serving them carrying silver trays asking if they would like some more water laced with “smart?” Wait, Smart Water (Smartwater®)! Hey that already exists! Maybe they are the ones behind that stuff. They own it and are selling it to see if the rest of us will buy it thinking it will make us smart. If it did, then we’d realize how dumb we actually were to buy it and they would walk away having made all the money. Jeez, maybe those people really are smart. They probably invented “smartphones” too, with the same devious scheme. They’re all rolling in the dough while we are blabbing away on little boxes that emit microwaves into our brains making us dumber and by comparison, them smarter.
While we are blabbing, they are sitting around in their libraries with 14-foot ceilings loaded with leather-bound books, having efficient conversations. They are probably using one word thoughts because the rest goes without saying:
See, what I mean – they know exactly what they’re talking about while the rest of us are pounding away at grammar and spell check wondering why everything they just said is underscored in green. They, however, are laughing at all us peasants – “grist” (that’s a group of bees). We’re just the worker bees, grunts as it were. By now they have stopped chatting. No need for smartphones to explore their subject any further. They all know what just transpired while we’re Googling® each word of that conversation. They probably own Google® too.
Well, I’ve had fun wondering, about all this. Now I’m going to Google® Mensa and see how much of a cloud (gnats or sometimes grasshoppers are called a cloud) I’ve been living in. (I do think we should call them a “googol of Mensa”.)