Hindsight. Or The Lamentation Of An Inherent Lack Of Foresight.

Such a funny thing Hindsight is. Truly, there's naught better than a good dose of Hindsight to instill a grim desire to kick yourself in the Hind thereby falling off a cliff. Or into a pothole filled with Lava.

Let me explain. The following is one of several email conversations with Noamaan, a generally nice chap with whom I have an unfortunate and weird indirect history, i.e. I stole Erica from her, then he stole her from me. Or to be more precise, as Erica constantly insists, "the chap who she left for me, and whom she left me for."

I can't help but find some basic level of humour whenever I think of that. Hehe.

Noamaan:
Well about the intellectual stimulation... my brain cells are not firing either since i left school and joined a college full of dim witted north indians. To tell you the truth i don't really have too many interesting thoughts about various subjects cause i don't really read that much nor do i get to see as many non commercial, thought provoking films as you guys get to (lucky bastards). Hence i don't think you'd find too much if you try picking my brain.

Square:
Hehe... I like the honesty when you share about your friends. Do you share it with them as well? I'm starting to like you better already.

N:
'tis true that we do get exposed to quite a bit of thought provoking elements where we are studying. So sad it's not usually within the classroom environment. Then again...

However it would be rather intersting disecting your brain... the dude that 'princess' Erica left me for... ha ha. So oil up your rusty brain, and send me an interesting mail. Chances are i wont know what the fuck your talking about. As you know intellectualism is an external concept, if fewer are the people who can understand you, the more intellectual you are... never mind.

S:
But then you go and take the humble route. What the fuck, man (or 'ey' as they say down here in middle earth). If you don't have much of a brain for me to pick, what the fuck ey, do you think you're going to be able to pick mine, ey?

I don't normally invite intellectualistic exchanges with people I hardly know, especially not with my girlfriend's exes. Too much interference there, if you know what I mean. But obviously, I think (as yet) you're someone whom may be worth exchanges with (my thoughts influenced no doubt by the princess). So, quit being humble and just speak.

Intellectualism is an external concept?

Take the following assertion:

Intellectualism = external concept is like Beauty = external concept.

Got that?

[In a Rednecky kinda drawl, or better still, as George Bush Jr.] "Y'see, Beauty's skin deep... Uhh... Can you pass me a stack of ribs, dahrling?" ... as brilliantly clichéd by millions of (unfortunately not very eligible) young (and old) men trying to secure themselves a seat on the evolutionary train, as they flail themselves desperately, upwards of course, at the socially-dictated and universally accepted 2nd-tier of the sub-level species made out of a chap's blinking rib.

Or maybe we are the actual rib by-products. Whatever.

But that premise doesn't exactly thrive when applied to your claim does it?

"As you know beauty is an external concept, if fewer are the people who can understand (appreciate?) you (your beauty), the more beautiful you are... never mind."

So what is it that defines intellectual thoughts? Popularity? Or Eccentricity?

I say that if fewer are the people who can understand you, you need to learn how to express yourself better, mate (try Speech & Drama lessons), not bask in a redundantly dumb glow of glory and leaving the masses fucked out of their wits.

Now, if you don't understand what I'm saying, I will be more than happy to explain it in length and breadth and depth if neccessary, till you do.

There you go. My mail. Kinda more aggressive than I normally am, but then again, I'd just had a shitty evening with the family and am suffering the after-effects of a Neil LaBute play ("Bash") which was pretty damn engaging. You could say that I'm basking in a redundantly dumb glow of arty-fartyism.

If you are the sort to share your honesty with your friends (and acquaintances), that is.

Needless to say, with Hindsight lenses firmly in place, I feel like the Village Idiot. Thought I was being, I don't know, a strange combination of challenging, intellectual, macho, funny, sarcastic and whatever else, but I was just putting the piss in "take the piss out of square cause he doesn't know!"

* Fade in "Scotty Doesn't Know!" from Eurotrip OST. Loudly, to commemorate how colossal an Idiot I truly am. *