Ponderings

Your humble author has decided to ponder the relationship between genetics and I.Q.

Yes, it's a contentious topic.

And it has made the career (the comfortable career) of crypto-racist Charles Murray, among others.

But, for this public pondering, I wasn't interested in any scientific, or even pseudo-scientific, examination. So, in a moment of clarity, I realized--what could possibly be less scientific than my family?

That's right, my family. That irrefutable argument for birth control that is my family. The particular member of that group that concerns me today is my uncle James (no, the names have not been changed to protect the innocent--or anyone else, for that matter). He is my late mother's younger brother, and is, by anyone's standards, an incredibly nice guy.

But he should know better.

First of all, he should know better than to trust e-mail forwards.

Secondly, he certainly should know me better than to send me e-mail forwards. Especially one like this:

Subject: Cancer (please do not delete!)

Hi, my name is Amy Bruce. I am 7 years old, and I have severe lung cancer from second hand smoke. I also have a large tumor in my brain, from repeated beatings. Doctors say I will die soon if this isn't fixed, and my family can't pay the bills. The Make A Wish Foundation, has agreed to donate 7 cents for every time this message is sent on. For those of you who send this along, I thank you so much, but for those who don't send it, what goes around comes around. Have a Heart, please send this. Please, if you are a kind person, send this on.
PLEASE HIT FORWARD BUTTON "NOT REPLY BUTTON".

With much editing to allow for proper formatting, but none for grammar or style.

For now, let's ignore the "what goes around comes around" threat. Yikes.

My uncle's mother, father, and one sister (my aforementioned mother) all died of cancer. His father, in fact, died of lung cancer. So you might think that he'd be wary of having his emotions manipulated for a prank. He's also a small business owner. So you might think that he would be able to see through bullshit. Finally, he's had internet access for the better part of a decade now. So you might think that he would be wise to e-mail forward scams, or at least know of snopes.com or truthorfiction.com or even Google, for chrissakes, where he could look this crap up on his own, and find out that the commendable Make-A-Wish Foundation has an entire goddamn page up about how the freakin' Amy Bruce thing is, like many other e-mail chain letters, a hoax.

If you thought any of that, though, you'd be wrong. Wrong, wrong, wrong.

All of which makes me consider the link between genes and intelligence. Because, if there is a strong link, I've gotten this far in life completely on luck, bluster, and absolute bullshit.

For the record, my uncle James, nice guy that he is, has no idea that I have this web log, nor that I am, basically, publicly flaying him.

Also for the record, my father's family isn't any better than my mother's. Just in case you were wondering. Which you probably weren't.

You were probably wondering how I managed, despite my genetic handicaps, to work a computer. Or even a hand mixer.

Keep wondering.