Is it elitist of me to hate stupid people with a passion?
Does it make me a ruthless bastard?
I think it might be so.
It’s no fault of their own, I suppose, that they were born with a certain mental capacity.
And at first their stupidity’s dismissed with a laugh or a piteous glance, but after a while, I kind of want to smack them in the face with a glove.
First, there’s the harmless stupid people.
‘lolol ur hair is so pretty!111 i lyk teh smell of nail polish kk’
This type are akin to the sweet, sad patients at the Autistic Home for Kids.
I can pat them on the head and walk away, but I don’t think I’d be able to resist the urge to lock them in a cardboard box if they followed me around and insisted I partake in their bumping-head-on-concrete-wall activities.
Then there’s the stupid people who think they’re Aristotle.
‘I r so smart dat lol i cnt even finis dis sentenz!11’
People who always have that I-think-I’m-being-enlightened-by-a-great-epiphany-but-I’m-actually-contemplating-the-marvel-of-smartie-production look on their faces, and ask you in all philosophical seriousness if you think smarties were made in a river made of chocolate or a lake made of chocolate.
If I don’t grit my teeth and run away now, a kick in this person’s shin will be inevitable.
Finally there’s the most revolting class of stupid people.
The ultimate combo: stupid, oblivious to it, and consequently mentally unhinged.
Grasp of reality is totally flimsy, usually associated with people in isolation because normal people can’t stand them, develop split personalities, and often fall into the category of Retard.
I’m very sympathetic towards them. For the first 5 minutes.
Prime example, I’d have to say, is our neighborhood stalker, Neanderthal Booruwa.
The patient thinks I’m anonymous, when all my friends, including a bunch of bloggers, know who I am.
Then spews an enormous pile of shit, info which is easily accessible if one is jobless enough to google the email address on my profile page.
Threatens to tell my mommy (LOL) and for some reason tells me he knows my uncle. (o_O)
Then pretends that he has accomplished rocket science and that his dream of being recruited by the CIA is finally going to come true.
Mister, I almost sighed in sympathy imagining you crying yourself to sleep now that you know your dream must die, but then I realized your brain’s too deficient to accept reality, and I felt like throwing a bunch of medication pills at you instead.