A commercial that’s been running through my head lately is that credit card/identity theft one where the person whose identity has been stolen speaks in the voice of the thief and talks about how they spent the victim’s money. No, not the old lady cleaning the pool. The other one. With the black woman under the hair dryer. Speaking in a male voice, saying, “I bought parts for my robot. My girl robot. This is going to be the best prom ever!” The voice, her lip-syncing, it just cracks me up.

I wonder if they recorded the soundtrack first, or whether she recited the lines and somebody dubbed over them. I suppose the latter is easier, but the former would be more impressive.

If you do any amount of web surfing, and since you’re here I assume that you do, you have seen thousands of pop-up ads by now. And, like me, you are probably on to their tricks. Some are disguised as games, some as surveys, but they all are just trying to entice you to click on them.

One that I kept getting was for an IQ test. I’d seen it a number of times, but the other day I got it just before 5 o’clock at work. I guess I was in a gullible moment, so I took the test. It was certified by a Ph.D., people! (Anonymously. Uh-huh.) Whatever.

So, I answered their 40 questions, the style of which seemed very much like the IQ test I took in grade school. And of course they asked for a name and Email address at the end, big surprise, but they claim that they don’t sell or distribute the names. Again, whatever. Just tell me how smart I am.

I scored a 136. Which is near the number I scored in grade school. I’m going to assume that the first test was age-appropriate, and the scores are comparable. Which I am going to take as confirmation that I am almost a borderline genius. This is a belief that I already hold, and am more than willing to have a web-based quiz reinforce.

Scoff if you want, it’s exactly what I expect from my intellectual inferiors. You’re just jealous. Your weak little brain can’t grasp the concept of my greatness. You don’t want to believe that you will live out the rest of your days never achieving the type of mental prowess that circulates my skull this very minute. It’s sad really. In my more contemplative moments, I weep for you.

Of course, I fully anticipate that I will be inundated with comments and Emails from people claiming to have scored in the 140’s and above. You people are clearly lying. Diaryland is rife with small, petty, people delusional about their own intellectual prowess.

This test also had a second aspect to it. It labels your intellectual type. I am an “Insightful Linguist”. (I wish they had chosen the adjective “Cunning”, I could use the publicity.) That means that I “have the natural fluency of a writer and the visual talents of an artist”. Aww, go on… No, seriously, go on! And “a creative and expressive mind”.

Some who have read this site would disagree, but, if you insist, O.K.. You’re right. I’m brilliant.

So what does a man of superior brain power think about all day? What insights into life can I offer you that would ease your burden and illuminate your dark and dreary day as you slog through your meager existence? Well, be sure to write this down in that scrawl that passes for “written language” in your world, because I’m only going to say this once. The secret to happiness, the reason why we’re here is…

Whoops, look at the time. Gotta get to work.