Things That Chap My Ass About Clueless Morons

The human race has stopped evolving.

No, wait, that’s wrong.

Human intelligence has stopped evolving.

Yep, evolving I said and evolving I meant.

And don’t start in with that whole, but, Jim we don’t believe in evolution, we think the human race was intelligently designed crap either. Intelligently designed? Take a look around. We’re ass deep in clueless morons, you can probably see four or five from where you’re sitting right now, and it’s getting worse. Intelligently designed? Sure, maybe a few folks were designed by intelligence, but the evidence at hand would seem to indicate that the rest of the human race was just thrown together like a bland tasteless meatloaf made from whatever crap God happened to have in the fridge.

Seriously, folks, if God did made the idiots I run into every day, well, I’m guessing He was either hungover or doing it while he was talking to somebody else on the phone and not really paying attention.

On the face of it, evolution is a whole lot more likely.

Evolution is based on the concept of survival of the fittest. Now, people have managed to pervert that concept into all kinds of stupidity and most completely fail to understand what “fittest” means in the context of evolution – but still the concept is valid. See what that phrase actually means is that the process of natural selection over time increases the probability that those creatures with characteristics favorable to survival in the current environment will, well, survive. And have kids. And pass those characteristics on to the next generation.

See basically, evolution is the process of getting rid of idiots.

Take rabbits for example. Predators love rabbits. Everything eats rabbits – hawks, eagles, wolves, coyotes, bears, lynx, bobcats, weasels, lawyers. Everything. A rabbit doesn’t have big claws, or razor sharp spines, or the ability to spit poison or operate a flamethrower. A rabbit has basically one defense – sit absolutely still, if discovered run like hell and zigzag a lot – usually though, the running doesn’t really help. It’s the sitting still and being verwy verwy quiet part that is the rabbit’s actual defense. Now in any group, there’s always one jackass. The stupid loud guy, i.e. the clueless moron. You know him, he’s the guy who spent a weekend in the hospital after shooting bottle rockets out of his ass like he saw those guys on MTV doing. Yeah, that guy. Every group has one. Even rabbits. Take a colony of rabbits, sitting down at the local Starbucks, enjoying a lettuce frapachino. In walks a large hungry red fox. The rabbits freeze. The fox, being in a hurry, doesn’t notice them and goes over to the counter to order – and bang! the door flies open and in hops Fluffy, the booger eating rabbit, completely oblivious to the danger. The other rabbits motion frantically towards the fox, freeze Stupid, freeze! But Fluffy doesn't get the message. “Yo! Fellas! What’s Up! Why so serious? Why so serious? Who’s up for a game of ‘chicken’ with the Bald Eagles?” and that’s the end of that (it also explains why you find rabbit hair and little globs of flesh under the seats at Starbucks. Nature is brutal at the watering hole, kids. What? Well, it depends on the Starbucks. Sure). See, evolution is about weeding out the idiots.

The problem is that once a species evolves intelligence then it’s very likely that the process of natural evolution stops.

Now, admittedly we’re working from a single sample here, and not a particularly good one. But it would appear that once a species evolves enough intelligence to eliminate predation this allows the idiots to breed, and they do. A lot. And as a result there ends up being a lot more idiots. Need an example? Australia. A while back some idiot brought rabbits to Australia. Now for some damned reason and despite the fact that every goddamned thing in the rest of the world eats rabbits, as it turns out nothing in Australia does. Nothing. They've got some pretty weird creatures in Australia, and not one of them eats rabbit, including Australians (who mostly exist solely on beer and headbutting). It didn't take long for Australia to be overrun with rabbits. I've been there, you literally have to wade hip deep through the damn things. The entire continent is slowly settling under the weight of billions and billions of bunnies. Here's the thing (and you didn't think I had a point did you?), a lot of them are retarded. Rabbits that would have gotten weeded out of the gene pool like Fluffy up above, survived and went on to marry idiot female rabbits with big hair and boob jobs and have a whole shitload of idiot children. Remove the predators, allow the goofy bastards to breed willy nilly, and you eventually end up ass deep in idiots. That's what happens when you screw with the natural order.

Allow me to illustrate:

I had to go into to town yesterday.

I stopped by the Post Office.

The Palmer Post Office.

You know what I think of the Palmer Post Office.

Yesterday’s visit didn’t change that impression one bit, and if anything reinforced it.

See it started with the whole bait and switch thing in the parking lot.

The empty parking lot.

Woohoo! Thought I as I pulled into the parking lot, there’s nobody here! How often does that happen? (well, OK, once a week. On Sunday. You got me there). I looked through the windows as I walked - clutching my package, hope in my heart, sun on my shoulder, the wind in my hair -towards the door, and there was nobody in line.

Holy Mackerel, I though, it’s the Rapture. Finally. I’ve got the place all to myself.

I made the woohoo sound again, maybe more than once.

Well, turns out it wasn’t the Rapture after all, damn the luck (and really, when is that going to happen? Sooner would be better, there’s a lot of born again assholes I’d like to see sucked right up into space, just sayin’). There was one person at the window.

Hey, only one person? Usually the damned line is twenty or thirty people long, one person is great!

Turns out, it depends entirely on the person.

Because see, the woman at the counter was actually the poster child for frozen evolution. The veritable queen of cluelessness. Somebody who should have been run down and eaten by saber-tooth cats long ago.

She had packages. Lots and lots of packages. I don’t know how many, but it was a lot. Big ones, small ones, tall ones, short ones, round ones, rectangular ones, odd sized ones, regular sized ones, oversized ones. Some were actual postal boxes, some were recycled from a previous life, covered in scratched out bar codes and addresses and a label for canned peas (1 dz, canned, green, packaged for individual resale). They all had one thing in common though – they weren’t addressed. She was doing that at the counter. I watched, clenching my fists, as she filled out address labels one at a time, slowly and laboriously and oblivious that anybody was in line behind her.

She chatted with the postman while she filled out the labels. Nice weather we’re having, isn’t it?

Others arrived and formed a queue behind me.

They made comments, only one person in line. Woohoo and so on and so forth. Foolish, hopeful people.

She wanted insurance.

Behind me in line, a guy began to cough. No, not like cough to clear your throat, more cough like he was infected with swine flu. Hack, hack, cough, cough, wheeze, hurrrumph, cough, hack, snork! And here’s another sickly bastard who should have been pulled apart by dire wolves long ago. Do us all a big favor, would you Bobo? Stay the fuck home, I don’t appreciate being covered in your mucus and chunks of your fecund lung tissue.

She needed delivery confirmation.

Cough, wheeze, hack, snork!

Another evolutionary dead end arrived, this time in the person of a large hirsute type with a giant mug of coffee in one hand. Literally, one of those ass crack construction types who carry the obligatory mug big enough for an entire pot of coffee – you know the sweaty asshole who takes the entire pot of the good stuff and leaves you with nothing but day old decaf. He then proceeded to slurp loudly, and smack his lips after each gulp.

She wanted stamps.

Cough cough, wheeze wheeze, hack, snork! Slurp! Slurp! Gulp Smack. Gulp ahhh smack. Snork!

Anything else, Ma’am? No? Your total is…

Cough, cough, wheeze, hack snork! Slurp gulp slurp smack smack. Snork!

She fumbled in her purse and finally pulled out a checkbook.

Somebody started tapping impatiently on the package desk. Tap tap tap.

Cough, cough, tap tap, wheeze, hack snork! Slurp gulp slurp ahhh smack smack. Tap Tap. Snork!

If the next person through the door was playing a kazoo and carrying a banjo we’d have a complete bluegrass ensemble.

A checkbook.

A goddamned checkbook. The bitch was going to write a check.

We’re damned near a decade into the 21st Century, and the clueless bitch is writing a check? I mean, come on, it’s like paying your taxes to the King’s Factor with a couple of bushels of hand threshed wheat and a brace of rabbits. It’s 2009 for crying out loud, can we please get the hell rid of checks?

Cough, cough, Tap Tap, wheeze, hack snork! Slurp gulp slurp smack smack. Tap Tap. Snork!

I hate check writers. I hate them with the passionate heat of a thousand fiery evangelical ministers denying that they were caught snorting cocaine off a gay prostitute’s ass.

What’s the date today?

Gulp tap tap gulp, slurp. Snork!

Make it out to who?

Wheeze wheeze, pardon my phlegm, hack. Slurp! Tap. Tap, wheeze.

How much was it again?

Cough, cough, wheeze, hack snork! Slurp gulp slurp smack smack. Tap Tap Snork! Everybody now, you know the words!

Now we get to the rest of it. See you can’t just write a check, can you? Oh hell no.

She proceeds to fill out the check resister and balance her checkbook.

I swear to the Intelligent Designer – this, this is the best you can do? Seriously? Excuse me while I roll my eyes in derision.

Snork!

What we need here folks is to get evolution back on track.

How do we do that, Jim? I hear you ask.

Folks, it’s simple really.

First we need some saber-toothed cats and a couple of dire wolves…