Do my three Purple Hearts count?
Scout1222 wrote
bashfully Thank you.
Meanwhile, in addition to being a Jedi Knight, a graduate of the Wilfrid Academy of Hair and Beauty Culture, an accomplished Betazoid Empath, and overall Miss Smarty Pants, I stay physically fit by working here. I’m the pretty one, the third from the left.
The details of my life are quite inconsequential… very well, where do I begin?
My father was a relentlessly self-improving boulangerie owner from Belgium with low grade narcolepsy and a penchant for buggery. My mother was a fifteen year old French prostitute named Chloe with webbed feet. My father would womanize, he would drink. He would make outrageous claims like he invented the question mark. Sometimes he would accuse chestnuts of being lazy. The sort of general malaise that only the genius possess and the insane lament. My childhood was typical. Summers in Rangoon, luge lessons. In the spring we’d make meat helmets. When I was insolent I was placed in a burlap bag and beaten with reeds- pretty standard really. At the age of twelve I received my first scribe. At the age of fourteen a Zoroastrian named Vilma ritualistically shaved my testicles. There really is nothing like a shorn scrotum… it’s breathtaking- I highly suggest you try it.
:eek:
In resume speak:
I was selected to participate in the first G/T program in the state.
I was awarded a large scholarship to a very good university, where I earned a B.A. and a partial masters in Anthropology. In four years.
I recently pulled together an exhibit store that generated the highest net proceeds in the history of the institution.
I was photographed for an article in Southern Living last fall.
In reality speak:
My mommy and daddy thought I was real smart. I have a Liberal Arts degree and I couldn’t hack grad school. I work in retail. Guess that puts me in the bottom tier of Dopers, eh?
Well, my mom says I’m special…
I have a lot of impressive credentials. So when I give my two cents on a column, it is REALLY important you listen to what I say. Or not. You could even judge what I say on its own merits, and focus less on supposed measures of expertise. As an engineering professor used to say – “So you’re a genius. There are lots of geniuses walking the streets.”
Do you think I should try & go for a degree here, or should I go here, or should I go here? I like the look of the campus at this last school.
OK smart people, if you were a Jedi Knight, a Betazoid Empath, and a Rockette, as I am, which one would you attend?
I’m smart, but unambitious. I was in the TAG program in grade school, and honors/AP classes in high school. I don’t remember what I got on the PSAT, but it was good enough for a National Merit Scholarship, and I got a 1425 on the SAT without any kind of studying or preparation, and a 33 on the ACT, and a 3 on the AP English test (without having taken the AP English class). I tended to get Bs and Cs in school though, because I never put much effort into homework and such.
OK, I’ll give the OP a few truthful answers to his question, then I’ll knock it off for awhile.
- I have a degree in Philosophy from a really snotty East Coast liberal arts college.
- I worked at an equally snotty Wall Street investment bank for ten years.
- I took the SATs when I was a sophmore and scored in the top 2% of all students taking the SATs that year.
- I had, by far, the most badges in my Girl Scout troop. No one came close. Wusses.
My mom thought my sister was special. 
-XT
ell, I got a bunch of publications, and four patents, but the thing I can ue to prove I’m a Smart Guy is this little reproduction of my Doctoral Diploma that the University of Utah gave me. It fits in my wallet. I’ve never heard of another school doing this, but I think it’s really neat. And I actually got some use out of it. In order to get into the Widener Library at Harvard (or several other of their sacred book buildings) you need , unless you are a student o faculty there, permission from God. It’s excruciating to have those books so tantalizingly close, yet unreachable. But if you’re a legitimate scholar, Harvard will let you use the Readin Room there for something like six das a year. My card lets me prove I’m legit without having to drag around the actual sheepskin.
I’m taking on the world with an International Baccalaureate diploma and a PADI Advanced Open Water Diver certificate!
I have an M.D. from Harvard, I am board certified in cardio-thoracic medicine and trauma surgery, I have been awarded citations from seven different medical boards in New England, and I am never, ever sick at sea. So I ask you; when someone goes into that chapel and they fall on their knees and they pray to God that their wife doesn’t miscarry or that their daughter doesn’t bleed to death or that their mother doesn’t suffer acute neural trama from postoperative shock, who do you think they’re praying to? Now, go ahead and read your Bible, Dennis, and you go to your church, and, with any luck, you might win the annual raffle, but if you’re looking for God, he was in operating room number two on November 17, and he doesn’t like to be second guessed. You ask me if I have a God complex. Let me tell you something: I am God.
1410 on the SAT, 172 on the LSAT, a BA in foreign policy, and a letter of admission to Columbia Law.
Oh, and I wear glasses.
I’ve consistently gotten borderline genius IQ scores, but I meet people who make me feel like a moron all the time. I can’t spell to save my life, and I wake up some days convinced someone stole my brain and left me with a cabbage in its place. My bachelors and PhD from prestigious schools don’t mean squat unless I can produce, which I try to do. But there’s always somebody smarter; always. If there was ever a time I really thought my credentials made me special, my day-to-day work environment puts the lie to that notion on a regular basis. Tooting my own horn seems fatuous and self-defeating when I compare my achievements to some of my peers. I’m happy to be a reasonably productive person with the occasional intelligent thing to contribute. But if I put all my sense of self-worth into my bona fides, I’d need look no further than my left or right side on the average day to figure out I need to seek elsewhere for self-affirmation. Harping on whatever credentials I might have would be a sure way to wind up feeling like a failure. Like I said, whatever scores or awards I’ve got, there’s always somebody doing better. Plus, I’ve met people with fewer letters next to their name than my own who can think circles around me. And I’ve met people with quite a few more who couldn’t reason their way out of a paper bag. You find out pretty fast, in industry especially, that credentials mean exactly jack if you’re not contributing something new and useful every day. Anyone can get a PhD. Precious few can really think.
[Hobbes] How did you emboss this? With a screwdriver? [/Hobbes]
My creds are all in the sig…
:::::looks in toilet::::: Yeah, that’s mine.
See, I know my shit!
I can’t beleive that gag was left so wide open.
High school dropout
4.0 GPA during college-never finished-bought a house
3 patents
Certified to NFPA 1001, 1002 (Firefighter I and II), Hazardous Materials technician, former EMT-A, and Paramedic
EPA certified refrigeration technician Type I & II/609
EPA certified lead inspection technician
CDL-A, endorsements P,X
Owner of general contracting company
Principal in company which manufactures automated fume removal systems for fire stations
Adult evening education instructor
Member National Fire Protection Association
Member International Association of Electrical Inspectors
From my peers-I’m the guy they call because I’ll figure something out
From Littlecats-My Daddy knows everything
I, for one, concur absolutely, and approve of your credentials.