Recently I complained about ridiculous spam I’ve received, but I just have to make a quick addition to that list. This is a title that just popped up in my inbox:
“Tired of being second best in bed?”
I’m trying my best not to laugh out loud at work; I’m not sure if the spammer really intended the humour, but I sure hope he did. I mean, come on. This is funny on so many levels, and it’s the perfect serve for a snappy response:
I’m never second best - I always come first!
Almost makes me want to click that darn link to see what he’s trying to sell.
And I know that it’s April 1 - I just can’t be arsed to make some inane attempt at a joke here. I’m going for the Grumpy Gamer approach: 100% April Fool’s Day joke free!
E-mail is incredibly useful, and since I’m not terribly plagued by spam I’m fairly happy with that means of communication. But every now and then a few spam mails get through, and my cat-like curiosity makes it inevitable that I have to take a look at what they’re trying to sell this time.
…And I’m constantly surprised by how ridiculously formulated spam can be. Let’s have a looksee at what’s in my Trash folder:
First of all we have the enlarge your penis spam. Sure enough, they’ve found something that’s bound to cause a subconscious nervousness in all but the most well-endowed males, so it’s bound to catch one’s eye at least the first time one sees it. Good going, spam! Too bad that it’s always written with appalling grammar, so there’s no chance of receiving a treatment other than a quick press of the Delete button. If I were ever even considering trying some procedure like that (not that I need it! honestly! really!) I wouldn’t let anyone who can’t spell or apply proper punctuation near my precious parts.
Then there’s the cheap software spam. I don’t get the point of this. Sure, in Asian countries (and other places) it might be common to buy pirated software but in the West (or rather cold North) most people I know either buy the full price version, or download it for free. I never see people choose the middle option - it’s the worst of both worlds. “Hmm… Let’s see… I can get an official version of this DVD for $25. Or a pirated one for free. Oooh, but look here! A pirated version for $5; I’ll take this one!” Personally I go for another option: “$25 for a DVD? Screw that (unless it’s 300)! But if I see it for $10 I’m taking it, ’cause I really want the extra material.”
The we have all the spam for celebrity porn. Okay, I may be going out on thin ice here, but I personally see no reason why I’d want to watch celebrities do naughty things in the first place. They’re not trained professionals, so the sex will be boring to watch anyway! Delete!
There’s countless more examples of bad spam that seems badly put together, and not really thought out. But the prime example must be something that’s started to pop up the last year or so:
“Hello! I’m tired tonight. I am a nice girl that would like to chat with you…”
What the… If I were looking for a nice girl to talk to, why would I ever want to talk to a tired girl?! Sheesh. I don’t know what these people are thinking. Are they trying to make some strange connection between tired and bed and sex? Have these people ever seen a tired girl? Sex would be a pretty low prio thing in most women’s minds if they’re tired. (With exceptions of course. I’m trying to write something mildly amusing here; not make general comments about how women work or don’t work. So if you were thinking of writing “oh-oh-oh, you’ve been with the wrong kinds of women then,” just don’t.)
This “I’m tired” business must be a cultural thing. Somewhere in the world it has to appear appealing to people, but it just raises one question in my mind: if she’s so tired, what’s she doing by the computer spamming e-mails instead of going to bed?
Mathematics is not one of my strengths; if I put my mind to it I can get by, but I lack the discipline to become skilled at it. I’ve read some calculus and algebra and combinatorics and statistics and whatnot, but in general I’ve just taken some courses only to forget everything I’ve learned shortly afterwards. The only maths I use regularly, except for simple arithmetic, is trigonometry. (It’s quite useful for 2D games.)
Logic is a completely different matter though. My job as a software developer at a Large Multi-National Corporation(TM) demands that I keep many of my skills sharp: the ability to juggle many ideas and projects, the ability to deal professionally and courteously with customers, and the ability to drink copious amounts of tea. Oh, and let’s not forget the ability to actually write code. Many non-programmers seem to think that maths is necessary for programmers, but in reality it’s logic that’s in high demand.
Speaking of skills at work, another thing that I tend to do there is solve sudokus. I find great comfort in spending my lunch breaks listening to the ongoing conversations while I solve a sudoku and - if something interesting pops up - add something to the discussion. Solving a sudoku is relaxing; you know that it’s solvable as long as you apply some logic, so you can take your mind off the possibly-unsolvable problems facing you in real life. At one time I did many sudokus per day, but now I limit myself to at most one for the sheer pleasure of it. A friend of mine mentioned that sudokus can be used to measure stress as well: if you find yourself taking too long on a standard sudoku, it might be an indication that you’re too stressed to think straight at the moment. True enough, but I find that if I’m too excited about something it also makes it hard to concentrate on the problem at hand. But then again, I suppose that that could be classed as stress as well, albeit of the positive kind.
Incidentally, speaking of sudokus, did you know that Benjamin Franklin used to amuse himself with mathematical puzzles similar in principle to sudokus when he was not busying himself with inventing just about everything you could imagine? Read the article and be amazed at the 16-by-16 magic square with bent rows that Franklin devised. You know about the magic square, where each line has to add up to 15? This is a magic square where each line has to add up to 2056. And all the coloured areas also have to add up to 2056. I’m just shaking my head at the complexity of the puzzle.
Read the article above to see more puzzles.
At one time I was pondering if I could devise a meta-puzzle game, where each puzzle mechanism would be unique, and one part of the problem would actually be to figure out the rules themselves. I started examining the sudoku to get inspiration, and quickly decided that it’s above my current skill to actually bring that idea to life. The idea is seductively simple: create a formal definition of the sudoku, and then expand that definition to encompass other mathematical puzzles. After you have created a suitable grammar of mathematics puzzles, you simply create a generator for new exciting puzzles. But in reality, this is much too complex for a layman in mathematics.
However, after having read about Franklin’s exploits in the puzzle domain, I wonder if this would have been something he would have enjoyed to create.
Sir Edmund Hillary has passed away at the ripe old age of 88. I had never heard the name until I browsed National Geographic’s webpage today; I’ve missed out on a very cool person. He and Tenzing Norgay were first to climb Mount Everest on May 29, 1953. Upon completing this deed he returned to the base camp and exclaimed “We knocked the bastard off.”
That’s just so cool.
And here’s something he wrote about the pair’s final steps to the top:
“Another few weary steps and there was nothing above us but the sky. There was no false cornice, no final pinnacle. We were standing together on the summit. There was enough space for about six people. We had conquered Everest.
But my dominant reactions were relief and surprise. Relief because the long grind was over and the unattainable had been attained. And surprise, because it had happened to me, old Ed Hillary, the beekeeper, once the star pupil of the Tuakau District School, but no great shakes at Auckland Grammar [high school] and a no-hoper at university, first to the top of Everest.
I just didn’t believe it.”
I’m getting chills all over from reading that. A part of me has always wanted to do Adventurous Things(TM). As a young kiddo I even dreamed of having business cards with the title “Hacker / Adventurer.” A few days ago I realized that it’s about time that I get business cards for my little KarjaSoft venture…and that I could finally have that desired title!
But then it struck me that I haven’t done as many adventurous things as I’d planned in younger years.
Sure, I’ve done a fair bit. Spent time in Germany as a 12-year-old, living with a friend of the family away from home. Hitch-hiked around Sweden at 15, where I received strange invitations from creepy old men. Travelled all around the US for two months, where I ended up at various hostels and parties and weird situations. Got lost in the Cyprus mountains and had to be rescued by the police. All very fun and all, but it’s not adventuring! Adventuring means wearing a cool hat and a whip, and visiting old ruins! Or climbing mountains! Or going out in the rain forest with a machete and rope (you always need rope), looking for some doctor or another!
I still might choose the title “Adventurer” when I print my business cards, but if so I’m going to have to earn the title in the coming years. I’m adding “become an adventurer” to my todo list!
Does anyone remember the Gizmondo; a handheld system that was launched in 2005, and claimed to be the best thing since sliced bread and Jesus combined. (Sliced Jesus?) Gizmondo wasn’t exactly what you would call a hit, and if I were thus inclined this is where I would make a pun about the word “hit.” See, Gizmondo was brought to life by Carl Freer and Stefan Eriksson, and the latter one’s claim to fame comes from totalling an Enzo.
You were too pretty to die so young!
Anyway, to make a short story shorter, Gizmondo died and no one cared (except for all the investors who lost millions). Read more about it all here. But now things are changing; it’s time to care again.
The Gizmondo actually wasn’t that much of a joke, hardware-wise. It had a decent 400 MHz ARM CPU, 320×240 resolution, NVIDIA 128-bit GoForce (not a misspelling) 3D 4500 GPU…and some cool things like a GPS and GPRS connectivity. Essentially, the device was good enough to play some games, and was tailor-suited for connectivity applications. (Car GPS, check. SMS services, check. Social gaming possibilities, check. Etc etc.) Apparently, Carl Freer also thought that the Gizmondo was a pretty nifty piece of hardware, ’cause he’s bringing back the Gizmondo. (Warning, Swedish article.)
The plan is to release the old version of the Gizmondo in May 2008, and a new improved one in time for Christmas 2008. With my non-existing psychic powers I foresee that the second coming of the Gizmondo will end in tears, and it’s doubtful that we’ll even see the May launch. A console launch needs funding, and Freer is not likely to get much of that after what happened the last time. So, he’s trying to make the Gizmondo cheap(ly) and work with Open Source to cut down on costs. In addition, he’s producing the hardware on credit - a Chinese company in Shenzhen is offering to produce the Gizmondo in exchange for exclusive rights on sales in China. If Freer manages to pull this off I’ll be in awe; it just seems too improbable that anything good will come of all these schemes!
However, it’s hard to deny that if he manages to get the console out to the public, and if there’s funding for a PR campaign, and if the claimed 35 available game titles really are available at launch, things might look brighter. The name Gizmondo may be a joke right now, but it’s hard to laugh at the connectivity possibilities the device has; there’s a slight chance that it might find a niche for itself after all.
If nothing else, it might become another homebrew favourite like the GP2X. It might not be what Carl Freer wants, but he should be thankful even if it just comes to that.
On a Swedish IT news site there are a few interesting headlines; one of which is that Sweden is “best” in Europe at using the Internet. (Link; beware - it’s in Swedish.) First of all, let me object to the word best. Let’s see. What constructive criticism could I conjure against that use…? Maybe…the fact that it’s complete and utter bollocks! Best is a marvellous word for quantifiable comparisons within a clearly measurable area, but in what way is Internet use a measurable area? And what exactly would “best” imply? That we’re best in Europe at finding warez? That we waste time on the Internet instead of working? That we know how to write good Google keywords? The phrase is completely ridiculous and says nothing at all.
And on the note of Google, there is another headline at the same site: Why Google is Making Us Dumber. Basically, that article insists that Googling stuff makes us dumber; for instance we no longer do conversion arithmetic by hand (or by head, rather) - instead we use Google features for those kinds of things. Well, let’s see if I remember my logic classes; I’ll try to make a modus ponens situation out of this. But I’ll leave out the predicate logic.
If P then Q, where P = “increased Google use” and Q = “getting dumber.” And I’ll introduce R = “increased Internet use” as well, and state the intuitive hypothesis that if R then P. Then we have the following:
(R -> P) AND R
-> P
(P -> Q) AND P
-> Q
Thus, Swedes are getting dumber. If you trust strange logic and strange articles you read on the ‘net, that is.
I won’t really waste any time on disputing the “Google makes you stupid” claim - it’s clearly ridiculous and a prime example of backward-thinking. The same was said when calculators were invented. “Oh no, the kids won’t learn how to do simple arithmetic anymore now that they have a machine for it.” Granted, I expect that kids today can’t do simple arithmetic, so I guess this example sucks. Still, I’m convinced that the productivity gains from automating simple tasks vastly oughtweighs the small setbacks in basic knowledge.
But wait, there’s more! I have yet another point to this little blog post. Some people might have read my little rant about coffee, in which I claimed that coffee was the cause of major wars. I received some interesting (IRL) feedback to that; most who commented on the post were confused and didn’t really see the point of it. That’s okay, ’cause I was planning on bringing up the point later - like now. In the coffee post I claimed, for example, that coffee was the cause of the War of the Golden Stool. That was complete and utter rubbish. Just as all the other coffee-related anecdotes in the post. Have you guessed the common thread through this blog entry by now? No? Okay, I’ll continue.
The post sounded confident and it was backed by enough facts to make it believable; no one really cared to question my claims since the topic was dull, but I have seen many search entries for the War of the Golden Stool that led to my site. I keep imagining that some kids have used my lies as interesting anecdotes in their schoolwork, and that a few teachers are scratching their heads in confusion right now. I hope that both those teachers and those kids have learned a valuable lesson about using things on the Internet as resources for their essays. There’s basically no guarantee that anything you read on the net is true, regardless of the imagined authenticity.
This goes for the article about Google making people dumber as well: it’s a personal opinion backed by no facts. It doesn’t matter that a major Swedish IT news portal picked it up - it’s just as much rubbish regardless of who thinks that it might be valid.
In my youth I was a nerd. Oh yes - I know that it’s hard to imagine. Surely I couldn’t have been one of the geeky losers; I who became awesome and cool in every way? Well, no, I wasn’t. I was pretty damn cool - I simply had nerdy interests like programming my Amiga, reading copious amounts of geeky literature, and role-playing. The last bit is something I’ve all but forgotten these days, but reading about the Disappointment in the Demonweb Pits made me recall an amusing series of events.
It all began when a friend of my brother’s introduced me to Drakar & Demoner, a Swedish “equivalent” to Dungeons & Dragons which takes place in a world called Ereb Altor. All in all it’s probably a pretty shitty system, but it served nicely as an introduction into the weird world of role-playing games. Table-top ones, that is; I had played several CRPGs before this. Go Ultima IV! Anyway, I quickly decided that this was great fun so I got my own set of rulebooks for D&D. The Swedish D&D that is. I also found some friends who were interested in trying it out.
The first roleplaying session I had with my friends was…interesting to say the least. More than a dozen people who had never roleplayed before sat around, trying to grasp the concepts of this strange way of playing a game. Some had an intuitive understanding of the possibilities: a pair started making out in a bar in-game, and went to do the nasty in a tent. Another person wanted to find people to mug. Yet another tried to explore the town. Then, of course, there were others who just didn’t get the appeal at all and wanted to kill everyone so we’d be over and done with the session. All in all it was pretty amusing for most involved, and eventually I ended up with two or three regular players. Alas, they had no idea of how to be Dungeon Master (or as we call it in Swedish: “game leader”) so I ended up with the task of making up stories for them.
Then, just as now, I was a lazy bugger so I mostly bought pre-written stories and modified them slightly for my group. Essentially, I removed the parts involving lateral thinking, logic, or any attempts at non-linearity - those things were too complex. (Do I sound bitter? I don’t mean to sound bitter. Really.) One of these pre-written adventures I bought wasn’t just an adventure: it was a whole city called Krilloan and a large campaign which took place inside the city. When I was just about to set loose my little group of brawlers inside Krilloan, we received an unexpected addition: another friend of mine had heard of our fantastic exploits and wanted to join in.
Sounds great, huh? The problem was that this friend was a bit…well. More geeky. “More geeky than what,” you ask, whereupon I reply: “More geeky than just about everything.” This is the kind of person who, when asked what kind of music he listens to, answers that he listens to in-game music from computer games. Yes. Well. Anyway… To put it bluntly: the other people in my role-playing group found him irritating and obnoxious, and really didn’t care much for his being part of their exclusive group. Still, I couldn’t very well tell him that so he ended up making a character and joining the campaign anyway. Ain’t I a real softie.
Things went okay for a session or two, but eventually the others got really annoyed at the geekier of us geeks, and decided to have their revenge. They communicated through notes with me that they wanted to covertly purchase black masks and black cloaks, and coordinate an ambush on the geek character. They attacked him in a dark alley, mugged him, and slit his throat. Game over. But he got to create a new character and join in again instantly (through some story-telling magic) so no real harm was done. And it was frankly pretty awesome to see his confusion during the following sessions, where he discussed with the others who could have been behind the attack. “It must have been this baron we’re after! He must have hired some assassins!” The others nodded and agreed - that must have been it.
Things were fine for another two sessions or so, until the group found a magical chalice. This was an artifact belonging to an evil church, but that didn’t stop my usual brawler players from being stupid.
“I try sensing some magic off this thing.”
“Oooh, you definitely feel the radiant magic emerging from the chalice! It’s just full of power…”
“Hmm.. So, guys.. What do we do with it? Hey, I know! Let’s pour some wine into it!”
“Oh, nothing happened. Well, it’s a chalice, so…I’ll try drinking the wine from it.”
This is where the geekier guy chimes up.
“No! Dude! This is an artifact from an evil church - you can’t drink from it! Who knows what will happen?!”
The brawlers got quite annoyed at this sensible interruption and growled: “Well, you drink it then.” Of course the geekier person of the crowd refused; but it was too late. The other players held him down and forced his mouth open while they poured the wine down his throat…and then he fell down limp, stone dead.
“Well. Damn. I guess he was right!”
My friends were real bastards.
Have you heard of the War of the Golden Stool? Or the Russo-Japanese War of 1904? Maybe Tecumseh’s War? They all have one thing in common:
Coffee played an important role in starting all of them.
The 20th century had barely begun when serious conflicts once again arose between the British Imperial government of the Gold Coast and the Ashanti Kingdom. The latter was a semi-autonomous African state that co-existed with the British; but it was never an easy co-existance. The British constantly tried to assert their authority over the Ashanti after the demise of the slave trade, and twice the Ashanti had risen against the white invaders. In 1900 Sir Frederick Hodgson tried once more to impress the Ashanti: he demanded their submission, and that he would be seated on the Ashanti’s Golden Stool - the stool that, as he understood it, acted as a throne to the Ashanti people. The Ashanti couldn’t resist the white men, and he eventually got his wish; however, as he sat down he decided to drive his point home even further: he smiled, relaxed, and had a cup of hot coffee while he sat on his golden stool. Little did he know that the Golden Stool wasn’t just a throne - whoever sat on it also symbolised the direct embodiment of the Ashanti gods. And the white man sitting there drinking the black liquid was too much for the proud Ashanti: to them it symbolised not only the rise of white gods, but also white gods who would devour the black peoples. Thus began the Third Ashanti Uprising, or the War of the Golden Stool in 1900.
The Russo-Japanese War was a completely different business: in the early 1900s both Russia and Japan had massively imperialistic ambitions, and due to their close proximity they - of course - became bitter rivals. Both countries competed for influence, trade and territory in East Asia, and Japan desperately wanted to convert itself to a modern power. After the Sino-Japanese War (1894-1895) Japan defeated China; this led to the Treaty of Shimonoseki in 1895 in which China yielded many territories to Japan. One of these territories were the Liaodong Peninsula. Three Western countries, Russia, the German Empire and France, tried to apply pressure on Japan to relinquish its claim on the Liaodong Peninsula, because on this peninsula could be found Port Arthur. Russia especially desired this port, since it was the only warm-water port available in that area, and the only viable place in which they could import luxury items from the Pacific. Luxury items? Like what? Yes, you guessed it: coffee. Thus, another war was started in coffee’s name.
In 1811, North America was full of strife. The great War of 1812 stood just around the corner, but before it another war broke out: Tecumseh’s War, or Tecumseh’s Rebellion. Tecumseh was a Shawnee cheif who led an American Indian confederacy against the United States in the Old Northwest. The two principal adversaries in the war, Tecumseh and William Henry Harrison, had both been participants in the Battle of Fallen Timbers at the close of the Northwest Indian War in 1794. That war ended with the Treaty of Greenville, in which much of present-day Ohio was ceded to the United States; however, Tecumseh never signed the treaty - he continued to fight the United States and William Henry Harrison through the years, and ignited the American Indians to a great rebellion in 1811. Why did he do that? The story has it that the two leaders sat down in 1794 to discuss the terms of surrender, in order to come up with a solution that would be acceptable to both parties. Things were proceeding fine until a fateful moment. William Henry Harrison had brewed a pot of strong coffee and, in a friendly gesture, offered a cup to Tecumseh. The latter gladly accepted, tasted the brew, and then exclaimed: “By the ancestors, this is the most vile and putrid liquid I have ever tasted! I thought you wished to come to a compromise - yet you offend me with this awful beverage,” whereupon he stormed out of the pavillion. And he never forgave Harrison until the day he died.
In short, what I’m trying to say is that coffee has caused so much pain and suffering in this world; if we had any sense we would make the disgusting habit of coffee-drinking illegal, punishable by public flogging. It doesn’t matter that you try to disguise the black brew with nuts and milk and cream and whatnot - it’s still an awful thing to put in your mouth. Much better to rely on the magnificent flavour of tea. If you’re ever in Linköping I recommend that you try the cactus tea from the central tea boutique. It has just the right amount of sweetness without tasting like perfume (like most fruit teas do).
Oh, and did I mention that cool people play Sheeplings?
I just have to get it out of my system: I love 300! You know, the gory movie about the Spartans who stood up to the Persian empire, based on a comic by Frank Miller. I’ve seen the movie twice so far - once as a DVD rip (Shhh! Shhh! Don’t tell anyone!) and yesterday I saw it again at the movies. While I love it, the other geeks I saw it with were divided: some thought it was a beautiful action flick, and some were quite disappointed. Personally I’m not sure why I love it; given my loathing for Kill Bill and similar action-only movies I really shouldn’t approve of this two-dimensional fantastical portrait of a slaughter. Induction really isn’t applicable in real life, it seems.
But what differs between Kill Bill and 300? Why do I approve of the latter but not the former. Well, one obvious thing is aesthetics. Kill Bill is essentially a mix of a gangster flick and a samurai flick (or something like that), while there’s no missing the fact that 300 is an animated comic. Every detail in the movie breathes comics - from the way they almost exclusively utilized blue/green screens rather than real environments, to the over-the-top one-liner-based dialogue. Not to mention the constant posing. I think this is a prime example of how cliches can be used to create something grand - and probably grander than what would have been created with more restraint. Movie critics apparently aren’t too fond of the movie, and that’s understandable: I would hazard a guess that the movie’s simplistic script and cliches are poison to a reviewer schooled in film theory. Maybe it takes a layman to appreciate this kind of entertainment; after all, it has performed marvellously at the box offices.
Another thing that struck me is that Kill Bill is the story of one person, compared to - say - 300 persons. 300 persons fighting for a greater cause than their personal revenge. The epic quality of 300 is most definitely something that appeals to me much more than the down-to-earth feeling of Kill Bill: there’s no sense of greater cause in the latter. Also, it doesn’t hurt that the Spartans are doomed from the very beginning; I have a very nasty addiction to tragedy, and people giving up their lives almost always send shivers up my spine. I’m quite aware that my Goth tendencies are at fault, but I prefer it that way, thank you!
A third thing that separates Kill Bill and 300 is the gender of the protagonists. Male chauvinist pig that I am, I probably have a bias against female warriors. Or - more realistically - I probably can’t identify with Kill Bill’s main character in the same way that I can identify with Leonidas of Sparta. And to tie things up with the previous paragraph: I also find it easier to identify with the driving force of the Spartans than with whatever-she’s-called in Kill Bill. Epic sacrifice is much more appealing than personal revenge.
Okay, I’ve established some of my reasons for liking 300. But there’s more. For instance, the movie is extremely - and I mean extremely - close to the original comic, visually. This worked wonders in Sin City, just as it does in this movie. I also love tiny details like how Thermopylae is translated into Hot Gates. It makes sense - since they are speaking English it makes sense to translate the names of the places as well. It’s especially effective in this case, since Hot Gates has an undertone of Hell that - probably - wouldn’t have been very obvious if the Greek name was kept. Speaking of original Greek names, I had to refresh my memory on the battle of Thermopylae after seeing this movie, and I might as well sum up some important things I noted. All so that you don’t have to bother with it.
- The Spartans didn’t face Xerxes with only Arcadians at their side. Rather, there were also 400 Corinthians, 1,000 Phocians, and many many more. In total, the estimate lies at 7,000 people holding Thermopylae against the Persians.
- The Persians supposedly numbered millions, but modern estimates suggest “just” 200,000 land-based troops.
- In the movie there’s a lot of talk of Sparta’s freedom against Persia’s slavery. I think they forgot to mention the fact that the Helots were slaves to Sparta, and 1,000 Helots were with the Spartans at Thermopylae.
- The oracle’s prophecy isn’t elaborated upon in the film, but according to Herodotus the original prophecy was that Sparta will be destroyed unless one of their two (yes, two) kings give up his life. It’s speculated that this is a reason why Leonidas decided to stand at Thermopylae.
- And much much more. This is all rather fascinating, actually, but I can’t be arsed to write more.
Finally, I just have to mention two things:
- If you haven’t seen 300 yet, do it!
- And… Since 300 and Sin City were successfull, please please please please God let them make a properly dark and gruesome version of Miller’s Batman: The Dark Knight Returns as well!
I decided to write an informational piece about Mensa. You know, the fabled seat of high intelligence, whose members strive toward excellence and the betterment of mankind. Or something like that.
What is Mensa?
Mensa, according to the homepage, “provides a forum for intellectual exchange among members. Its activities include the exchange of ideas by lectures, discussions, journals, special-interest groups, and local, regional, national, and international gatherings; the investigations of members’ opinions and attitudes; and assistance to researchers, inside and outside Mensa, in projects dealing with intelligence or Mensa.”
Personally, I would say that Mensa provides a forum for self-loathing individuals to attempt to receive some self-esteem, and exchange inane ideas with other semi-intellectual members who also lack the ability to produce something fruitful instead of debating useless details.
Who can join Mensa?
In order to join Mensa you need to have attained an official IQ score at or above the 98th percentile; you need to be among the “smartest” 2% in the world. In case you’re wondering: no, online IQ tests aren’t acceptable - you need to take tests that are graded by professionals in order to qualify. Online tests often test things that aren’t strictly IQ-related, and they also often show a better result than a proper test. Remember that the next time you get an IQ of 152 on an online test.
One common rebuttal against IQ tests is that they measure nothing at all, except the ability to take IQ tests. It’s a relatively valid claim: IQ tests measure a form of logical thinking, but skips many other types of intelligence. However, what they measure is one type of thinking that is quantifyable. It’s not easy to measure, for example, how socially intelligent a person is, so IQ tests simply ignore those bits and measure what they can measure instead. Does that make the tests irrelevant? Most of the time, yes, but they still measure something comparable.
What kind of people join Mensa?
To quote the Mensa homepage: “Mensans range in age from 4 to 94, but most are between 20 and 60. In education they range from preschoolers to high school dropouts to people with multiple doctorates. There are Mensans on welfare and Mensans who are millionaires. As far as occupations, the range is staggering. Mensa has professors and truck drivers, scientists and firefighters, computer programmers and farmers, artists, military people, musicians, laborers, police officers, glassblowers–the diverse list goes on and on. There are famous Mensans and prize-winning Mensans, but there are many whose names you wouldn’t know.”
I can elaborate a bit on that. Mensans can theoretically be of any profession and any personality, but most of the time you tend to see:
- People out to prove something to themselves or the world (The Insecure)
- Complete and utter introverts with bad social skills (The Nerds)
- Accomplished people who seek new groups to impress (The Braggers)
- Relatively normal persons just looking for something new (The Bored)
Note that this list isn’t complete, and the choice isn’t binary. (Ehm. Qaternary I mean.) Sometimes you encounter a person who completely fulfills a stereotype, but most people have a fuzzy level for all four archetypes. (I wonder if I can use the word archetype in this context; either way it looks cool.)
What can you expect from Mensa?
Again, to quote the homepage: “The society welcomes people from every walk of life whose IQ is in the top 2% of the population, with the objective of enjoying each other’s company and participating in a wide range of social and cultural activities.”
In reality, what you get is pretty much what you’d expect from a group of semi-self-claimed highly intelligent people:
- Mailing lists with a mix of insanely stupid comments, insightful knowledge and Asperger-like anal retentiveness
- Small social gatherings where people discuss nerdy topics and drink beer, and either watch each other with a “how the hell could this guy pass the test” look, or genuinely try to find common topics in order to become friends with the others
- Large social gatherings where… Hm. I really don’t know. I guess everyone listens to lectures and try their best to impress others with their
useless trivia insightful knowledge
All cynism aside, I do think that Mensa is a great place for some people. You know that the others who have joined have passed a decently difficult test of logic, so they can’t be really stupid per se (just irritating). And given the spread of people who become members you’re bound to run into many new and exciting faces whom you never would have met otherwise (although there’s a great risk that you’ll mostly see college students). And the gatherings actually provide an excellent way to meet new people (unless you’re…you know…able to go to normal parties and be charming and interesting to normal people).
“Why are you so full of contempt for Mensans,” you may wonder. “Who are you to judge people like that?” I judge all the Insecure and Nerdy people, because - Bog help me - I’m the biggest Insecure Nerd of them all. Feel free to e-mail me at karja@mensa.se if you want to complain about my hypocrisy.
Some final anecdotes
I have a friend who’s one of the smartest people I know. He once insinuated that he wouldn’t want to take the Mensa test, because the blow to his confidence would be too great if he failed. Another extremely intelligent friend of mine routinely ridicules Mensa for only containing wannabes out to prove something. An ex of mine scored quite well on an IQ test, but she simply sees no reason to join Mensa. All three people are - I regret to admit it - probably more intelligent than me. The point of all of this? Don’t assume that people in a high IQ society automatically are more intelligent than non-members.
Once I was having a stroll with a girl, and for some reason we ended up discussing intelligence. No, that usually doesn’t happen, but she was interested in the topic. We talked about our opinions of ourselves and I made a suitably modest comment, along the lines that I have verified that I’m a pretty intelligent person. Her reply was, “you don’t seem like it.” That’s a very interesting comment. Personally, I’m of the opinion that the ability to fit in and adapt oneself is a better measure of intelligence than showing off knowledge and/or quick thinking. (But, of course, opinions are like arseholes.)
Sometimes it’s easy to get fooled by numbers. 2% doesn’t sound like much, but that’s one person in fifty. Seriously, that’s a bloody huge number of people! I work with IT, and I would hazard a guess that not many people in my department would fail to qualify for those two per cents. Whenever one gets the urge to feel proud of one’s supposed intelligence, one only has to think of all others who ought to qualify in one’s surroundings. (I love the word “one.”)
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