Day in the Life of an Idiot

 I've been seeing stray comments on Bluesky saying that we shouldn't call Trump, his cronies or MAGA red-pillers "morons."

There's good intention in those sentiments, but let me tell you a story...

When I was in my thirties I worked at a place called the Immigration History Research Center. It is part of the University of Minnesota and therefore the job came with fantastic benefits. My boss, however, was unhappy because I was writing a novel on the job. (Fair.) But, she couldn't make that case very easily because I am sly like a fox.

I had long told her that I suspected that the reason I made some number transpositions and misspellings was because I was dyslexic. I tried to do my best to correct things, but I thought it was likely a learning disability. But, I had never officially been diagnosed. She basically put her money down on the bet that I couldn't prove it. So, fully covered by my job, I was tested to see if I was dyslexic. Apparently, when you are an adult, one of the ways they double-check their work is to give you an IQ test. Because, truthfully? You could just be dumb.

The person administering my IQ test gave it to me out loud (because my dyslexia might skew the results). This led to some funny moments, like when I corrected his proununcation of Louis Armstrong's name and, at one point, had to ask for clarification if he really meant to say "masticate" in the context of graduation, as I was pretty sure that word was "metriculate." 

Let's just say it seems pretty clear I'm passing at this point. 

But what actually I remember the most about the IQ test is that there were a couple of free form questions at the end. (I really loved the storyboarding with the images, too. But, anyway, staying on point.) One of these free-form essay answer questions feels relevant more and more with each passing day.

The first was: Why do we wash our clothes? Without hestitation I said, "So they don't rot off???" and then, of course, explained, you know, that unwashed clothes are dirty and smell and will, eventually, rot. So you need to wash them not only with water, but also with soap. Bacteria is a real thing that exists.

Then came the kicker: Why do we pay our taxes?

I knew the answer then just as I do now. We pay taxes in exchange for government services. I pay taxes so I can have lovely federal highways. I pay taxes because I love the things that federal grants get my city, my state, and the country. I want my veterans to have mental and medical assistance and I fucking LOVE the United States Post Service (which actually needs no federal money because it has historically operated in the black, but you GET MY POINT.)  I give in order to get really, really useful things--not just for me, but for all of us.

The thing is that struck me then (and which I often return to) is that think about this. UNDERSTANDING what TAXES ARE FOR is an ACTUAL measurement of IQ. Like for real. It was ON THE TEST.

We can argue (and we should) that IQ tests are racist and not actually a great measure of intelligence, but they can tell us whether or not someone has absorbed the basic understanding of how the world works--including belief in invisible things, like bacteria. And, people who fail those tests, historically, were called "morons." It's not a nice word. We should drop it from all polite discourse. However, these people who are dismantling our governement system have not only faitled a basic IQ question, but who also are, frankly, not nice people. I feel like this insult does, in fact, fit the situation very specifically. 

It's literally ON THE TEST.

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P.S. Bonus ending to the story. My boss could not fire me. The diagonsis came back with a notation that said, in accordence with that ADA (Americans with Disablities Act) Lyda needs to be accomodated as part of her job. I mean, I quit shortly after? But... I still felt very righterously indignant.