The other day I was watching the quiz show “Who Wants to be a Millionaire” with my mother. One question was about some horror movie director. Mum knew the answer and said the answer was so obvious everyone should know it.
“Well, I didn’t,” I said.
“How can you not know?”
“Because I don’t.”
“That’s a bit of trivia that most people know.”
“Well I don’t know trivia,” I said.
I have never taken the IQ test and if I do I’m bound to fail. I reckon if my intelligence was measured against the human definition of intelligence then, as we say in the UK, I’m as thick (stupid) as two short planks. I don’t see any point in knowing trivia; that’s what the Internet is for.
I have never enjoyed collecting data just for the sake of it. At secondary school, my favourite subject was French. I don’t know why, it just seemed easy and fun to learn French. I was always top of the class in French. Every year I received a prize for French. Apart from that I was lucky to be in the top 5. In the A-stream, we didn’t have much of a choice when it came to what to study for our final year exams. It was either the Arts or the Sciences. We had a choice between Geography or Physics. I couldn’t stand Geography and wasn’t too keen on Physics either. I chose the lesser of two evils: Physics. We had to choose between Chemistry or History. History was a nightmare as far as I could see so I chose Chemistry. I even chose Additional Maths over another subject, possibly Bible Knowledge. Biology, Literature, English Language, and Maths were compulsory. If I had a choice I would have dropped Literature as I didn’t see the point in studying Shakespeare. As far as I was concerned, the guy couldn’t even write English; and what use is Shakespeare to an African? French was my saving grace.
At my final year exams, I ended up scraping through Chemistry and failed Physics, Maths and Additional Maths. When I came to England I had to retake all the subjects. Again, I failed Physics and Maths. I finally passed Maths at the third attempt.
It’s never too late to discover what you’re really good at. I discovered social science in college, though I focused more on media and culture. My passion for French waned somewhat. I also realised I was very good at seeing meanings imbedded in texts and all around us. Then again, I had to learn to let go of meanings as one can get trapped in meanings.
So human intelligence-wise, I’m quite thick. I don’t use big words because I don’t know big words. I reckon my vocabulary is about 1,000 words, if that. OK that’s not strictly true. I went to college so I do know some big words like: plagiarism, patriarchy, homogeneity, diaspora, multidisciplinary, didactic, dialectic, polemics, oxymoronic, discursive, bombastic – to name a few. I tend to live by the maxim: KISS – Keep It Simple, Stupid.
What does intelligence mean for me?
Intelligence is the ability to release thoughts and experiences at the drop of a hat.
Intelligence is asking a question and being still so I can receive the answer in thought; or being able to attract the exact experience in response to my question.
Intelligence is being able to connect with people.
Intelligence is always being inspired to produce great articles.
Intelligence is being in bliss.
I reckon God must have zero IQ. Can you imagine the omnipotent being cares about human doctrines? Why would God want to know stuff? All He needs to say is “Let there be such and such” and it is. I reckon the reason why God wants us to let go and let Him do the work is because He can’t explain how He does stuff in words. I bet He doesn’t even know how stuff happens. Things just happen.
Because I still have the tendency to analyse stuff, I believe this raises my IQ to about 10, which is bad news. At least an IQ of 10 means I’ll still fail IQ tests, which has to be a good thing.
I am a thicko and proud of it.
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