Archive for March, 2008

Does Forgetfulness = Stupidity?

Saturday, March 8th, 2008

Well, folks, I think it’s finally happened. I’ve crossed over to the other side. Just like a good cop gone bad or a shrink who turns loonier than her patients, or even a Jedi Knight who joins the dark side, a la Darth Vader. This stupidity specialist may have officially earned stuper (that’s right; short for a miserably stupid person) status.

We’re all forgetful at times. We forget to buy milk when milk was the reason for going to the grocery store in the first place. We forget to remove the keys from the ignition before locking the doors of the pick-up truck. We rent movies only to discover upon viewing that we’ve watched them before… and not even that long ago. We forget people’s names. We may even forget people. And how about that cell phone? Ever leave one behind or think you did, when in fact, it was buried deep within the confines of your swimming pool size handbag?

Does this kind of general forgetfulness automatically give a person complimentary membership to the minimalist school of thought? Are we stupers when we are routinely forgetful? If so, count me in.

My personal, troubling foray deep into the ranks of stupidity occurred when I was asked to read a book. I am a voracious reader. But sometimes, even as I read, I start to forget what I have read. For instance: take a chemistry or trigonometry textbook. My sixteen-year-old asked me to read a page from his chemistry book, and then explain it to him. I read a paragraph and found myself immediately forgetting what I read. The words and content were systematically erased, vanishing from my memory as quickly as they entered. I tried again and the same thing happened. Stupidity had raised its empty head. And that head belonged to me. I became frightened of becoming that which I found most offensive.

But it wasn’t my fault. The text was so wretchedly tedious, my mind refused to process it. I believe this manner of forgetting is to be expected sometimes, particularly when reading books of little wit and even less interest.

We live busy lives. And forgetting happens. I can’t tell you how many times I’ve placed various objects in what I thought were secure, but obvious places, and then completely forgotten the location of this obvious place. I misplaced a pair of large (Ritz cracker size) earrings that I hid when moving. I finally located them… seven months later, in a shoebox with similar missing items. I hide things so well, that even I can’t find them.

If forgetfulness is a character flaw of stupers, than stupers would rule the earth. I know it seems that way sometimes anyway, especially when driving on highways or shopping at huge warehouse type chain stores, but a poor memory does not a stuper make.

The process of forgetting is inevitable among stupers and non-stupers alike. The difference between the two is, non-stupers generally remember that they forgot. Not so for the diligent dolts.

Exercise care. Stupers are out there.



Stupidity’s Favorite Words: “Can’t Do”

Wednesday, March 5th, 2008

The average stuper (short, once again, for a problematically stupid person) will tell you that almost anything can’t be done.

Henry Ford had great difficulty pushing his novel car idea past stupers; he kept getting stuck in the mud they eagerly flung at him. They thought he was loony and perpetually rocked his boat. It was all Henry could do to keep from slipping. Even his own father tearfully begged him to return to his $25 per week job and forget about his dang blasted automobile ideas. But nothing could hamper Henry’s made-up, determined mind. Undoubtedly, he did not regret ignoring those whose very existence depended on telling him what could not be done. He chose to utilize his own head instead.

For decades, my friend Debra practiced as a dentist. Tired of peering into mouths all day and standing on weary feet, she longed to switch careers and start her own beauty product company.

“People, including my own mother, thought I was demented for wanting to give up my salary and gamble it all on something I had no experience in,” Debra recalled. “It took me a while, but I did it, and I don’t miss wrestling with teeth or tongues one bit.”

Restricted minds are minute minds. They shrink from lack of use. And, consequently, become limited in capabilities. If I may once again provide a photo of the oppressed mind, you can see for yourself (you may need a magnifying glass):

And now, the active mind (you may need shades):

If you’ve got a dream that you long to transform into reality, make sure you don’t share it with stupers. Unless you’re searching for excuses for why it can’t be done.

Great ideas often receive violent opposition from mediocre minds ~ Albert Einstein

Great minds like to think.


When Stupidity Wears a Stethoscope

Tuesday, March 4th, 2008

The ideal doctor-patient relationship is one in which the two enthusiastically partner together to successfully solve the patient’s health issue(s). And everyone lives happily ever after.

However, this may not be the case if a stuper (short yet again, for an unfalteringly stupid person) is involved. This occurs when there is a physician whose ego is so enormous, the patient can barely squeeze into the room with him.

I’m certain there are cases where the patient can be troublesome, but based on my personal experience, I’ve found that most often, it’s the lack of an open mind (one of the character flaws of stupidity) on the doctor’s part that contributes to stupidity.

A few years ago, Sam, became ill with a serious bacterial infection. He went from doctor to doctor, searching for a cause and a cure. He ended up seeing a total of ten physicians before making progress. Doctors #1-9 were idiots.

The first doctor passed him onto a specialist, Dr. B. After examining Sam, Dr. B prescribed a medication. Sam did some research. He learned that certain food allergies could have contributed to his infection.

“Should I keep a food diary or stay away from certain foods?” Sam asked. “Would that help me?”

“You can eat whatever you want,” Dr. B assured him.

Sam’s condition worsened, and the medication gave him a severe reaction and pain. Dr. B cut down the dosage, but Sam saw little improvement.

To make this long story short, Sam became a nomadic patient, traveling from physician to physician; his health only became worse.

“I kept thinking there was something in my diet that caused my illness,” Sam recalled. “I mentioned this to Doctor #7 who was a renowned specialist at UCLA. He too told me it was not food related. When I continued to ask him questions about foods, I really rattled his chain. Literally. He wore a heavy gold chain around his neck, and every time he got nervous, he’d grab hold of it and start shaking the thing. Anyway, he had me take numerous tests to find out what I was suffering from. In the end, he said he believed it was a bacterial infection. Sheer genius.

“I told Doctor #8 that the medication was making me worse. He told me he’d seen hundreds of patients every week for years, and not one had any type of reaction that remotely resembled mine. He sent me to a specialist. This specialist wanted to operate. She said it was my only hope. The thought of going under the knife made my knees buckle! I decided to try going off the drug, and told the specialist what I was doing. She thought I was crazy, but said I could try it for one month, and then she’d operate.”

“As soon as I went off the medication, the severe pain and the side effects vanished. But I still had numerous other problems from the infection.”

It wasn’t until Doctor #10 that Sam made real progress.

“This physician told me about a diet that helped some of his patients. I went on the diet. My bacterial infection soon disappeared. It had been that simple.”

The average doctor spends no more than twenty minutes per patient. Why don’t more physicians allocate more time for analysis and understanding? Yes, dear readers, it’s stupidity’s wicked cousin, greed, steadfastly at work.

I hope the noble members of the medical field realize that I’m not pointing my finger at them, but at the practitioners who entered the field with good intentions, but who either never found their calling or lost it along the way. Intelligent physicians do not regard patients collectively, as a whole, but as individuals, each with his own unique reactions and needs. There are excellent doctors out there; finding them is the key to obtaining a happy relationship.

How to tell if a doctor is a stuper:

  1. Wears too much jewelry (flaunting the way they spend fees is improper);
  2. Unwilling to listen;
  3. Closed minded;
  4. Speaks in medical mumbo jumbo; and
  5. Places ink on the feet of a pigeon to stamp prescription forms, ensuring that only an expert can decipher his mysterious medical code.

Thinking is a choice.


How to Avoid Resembling the Epitome of Stupidity (Or How Not to Act Like a Stuper)

Saturday, March 1st, 2008

In order to avoid acting like a stuper (yes, short again, for a decidedly stupid person), I’ve developed guidelines or commandments which, if followed vigilantly, will aid one and all in at least appearing somewhat intelligent. Here are a small sampling:

  1. Thou shall not babble on aimlessly when talking to others or to thyself;
  2. Thou shall diligently use thy turn signal when changing lanes in traffic;
  3. Thou shall not talk loudly on the cell phone while sitting in a stall in a public restroom, standing in line at the grocery store or while riding thy bicycle in the street;
  4. Thou shall not be annoyingly nosy about the affairs of others;
  5. Thou shall not relentlessly whine and complain about thy problems to everyone who crosses thy path;
  6. Thou shall not readily dispense medical advice unless thou art a licensed physician (being married to one does not count);
  7. Thou shall not allow thy dog to run loose all over the neighborhood and/or use neighbors’ front lawns or porch steps to deposit their duty;
  8. Thou shall not form a human wall while strolling on the busy sidewalk so that no one may pass around thee;
  9. Thou shall not lock thy lips on the bumper of the car in front of thee, thereby tailgating; and

10. Thou shall not allow thy gaping mouth to resemble a fly trap by leaving it partially open while maintaining a blank expression on thy face so thee looks like the epitome of stupidity.

This is only a partial list, but I think it’s a start. Should you catch yourselves, dear readers, engaged in any of the foregoing, please remember what category you may fall in.

There are only two races on this planet-the intelligent and the stupid. – John Fowles

Great minds think.