Sunday, November 30, 2014

On Intelligence - Updated

According to the standard tests, my IQ is higher than 98% of the people in America.  The information I glean from this fact is as follows:

-  In a country of about 300,000,000 people, that means there are 6,000,000 motherfuckers who can crush me like a bug.  Six fookin' million ... that's a lot of motherfuckers.

-  None of them are on (insert social network of your choice).

Something you'll notice about Smart Fuckers is they compare IQ like members of the NRA compare penile implants.  It can be very funny to watch.


Some regard my speech as crude and vulgar but I don't support killing anyone so the problem is in the definition of crude and vulgar.

-  This problem is endemic in Facebook but Zuckerberg has no monopoly on mindless provincialism no matter how much of a pretentious display he makes of it.


There is some loneliness in intelligence as what point is there in talking to people who never understand what you're saying.  This is also a reason I'm a worthless piece of shit as I didn't talk to my ol' Dad enough and he's the only one on the planet who would have had any idea what I do or why I do it ... except for my ol' Mother as she understood crazy better than he did.  If I told her I need moonflowers then she would have said 'of course' and not just to agree me as she would have understood the necessity.  She knew the music better too as she could sing a cappella and the only way that works is if you hear the music in your head.

(For the young 'uns:  I don't remember her singing in California but she frequently sang "Que Sera Sera (Whatever Will Be, Will Be)" while she cooked in Australia.  Even if you think you don't remember, it's in your head somewhere.  Play the Doris Day version and trigger it.  That's no dream as she really was singing it in the kitchen.  I'm pretty sure this was the happiest time of her life.)

Cat resembles my ol' Dad in some ways as she's a very bright woman but if I do something simply for the sake of absurdity then likely it will throw her.  Don't take that to mean Cat doesn't understand absurdity as she has plenty of her own.  On what she and her boy regarded as their last holiday trip together, there was an 'event.'  He was growing up and was wanting to spend more time with his friends so they figured they would take a last trip and enjoy it together.

But ...

She ran out of money and many freeways in Europe are not 'free' because they are actually tollroads.  She devised a way to get the pair of them home as she thought, hmmm, if I pull up close behind a big truck then I can sneak my truck through right behind it before the tollgate comes back down.

As I imagine you have already surmised, this plan did not work.  I can't tell you how she got out of it as only Cat can tell it right and she will have you crying laughing.

What I can tell you is the boy said after their return, 'Mom, next time you take a trip, I'm GOING!"


Yep, that's how you do it.


Lotho is much like my ol' Dad as he's one smart mofo but he sees me doing crazy stuff and it makes no sense to him ... but he puts up with it because I'm his brother.  This doesn't make him a stodgy mutant as he was trippin' balls for the final Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young tour and I'm not sure you were there.  I know Laughing Gecko and Cadillac Man were there, one of whom was also trippin' balls.

One of Life's Biggest All-Time Heartbreakers was in hearing Lotho talking about being tone-deaf and that gave the realization that music won't make him cry.  I've always thought we were kind of temporally-displaced twins so it was really spooky to hear that.  After years and years of playing, I can sometimes hit a bit that will make me cry and not because it sucked.  The irony of all ironies is that intelligence has nothing to do with it.


Some regard my current situation as failure and there's no question of that financially but I can play now with better instruments and of many more types than I ever imagined.  I can get hammered any time I feel like it and play what I want when I want, all with lights that in this small space make it seem like Madison Square Gardens.  If this is failure, you may want to review your definition of success as I haven't seen the inside of a cubicle in five years or so.  The only part I regard as any kind of a failure is that it's difficult to share it with you even after forty years of trying.


There is only one answer and only ever has been one answer:   shut up and play

The above is where intelligence applies as you'll often see juniors asking how to be creative but these Dagwoods are already creative or they wouldn't be asking.  The actual question is 'am I lazy' and, given that the Dagwood is posting the question on a social network, the answer is clearly 'yes.'  Shut up and play.

A standard rule for writers applies equally to musicians and it's not about intelligence but rather discipline.  You will go down to that typewriter and you will sit there for eight hours even if you don't type a single word.  If you do not do that then you may think of shopping for cabbages, boning the little hottie who doesn't want you, or where you're going to find some reefer ... but ... you probably won't think much of typing anything.  That's the discipline and it's vastly more important than intelligence.

Shut up and play ... and keep playing until you like what you hear.  It may take years but it's the same as getting a puppy:  the pup isn't just for Christmas.  The Mystery Lady can tell you all about puppies as Mi Joy is about three years by now and Tinkerbell can tell you for sure as hers is brand-new.

No comments: