Confession: I’m an Intellectual Snob

            I pride myself on being one of the most kind people you will ever meet.  I am constantly told, “You’re the nicest person I’ve ever met.”  I came in second place for Class Nice in high school (I ended up winning Class Sophisticated).  So overall, judging by positive feedback, along with my own self-assessment against some abstract rubric of kindness, I’d say I’m a pretty generous, friendly kinda gal. 

....But I’m still a snob.

I'm not a snob in that traditional, superficial sort of way where a chick is on some sort of high horse because she's wealthy  or has the perfect ass-to-waist ratio.  I mean in terms of being informed.  While it may be more “acceptable” for me to judge others in terms of knowledge (or lack thereof) than on their personal style or income, it still makes me an asshole.  If you know me well, you’ll know that I frequently practice introspection, so I stay up-to-date on what I need to work on for self-improvement.  However, knowing that I need to abdicate my throne of (perceived) intellectual superiority does not make it any easier for me.

 Since I was young I always craved knowledge; I was an inquisitive youth, asking questions about anything and everything.  I wanted to learn as much as R. Kelly wanted that young poon.  To this day I remain a voracious reader, devouring page after page of text, reading encyclopedias, almanacs, and plenty of  lengthy tomes for fun, checking out extra textbooks at the library for what my brother calls my “extracurricular learning,” watching Jeopardy (and not just to watch Alex Trebek in all his geriatric hotness).  But not only have I always wanted more knowledge  (much like Marlowe’s Faustus) but I have wanted someone to share that with.  I don’t mean in a romantic kind of way; I just mean someone who is as nerdy as I am (and preferably able to suppress and eschew the lameness* that comes with being this voluntarily erudite) 

*sidenote: by ‘lame’ I mean its colloquial definition of ‘uncool’ and not the literal/archaic definition of ‘lame,’ which means crippled or physically disabled).  See how much of a nerd I am? 


I really don’t know why I trip about this, but I do.  I mean, I’m not a total grammar/math/literature/history/pop culture/music/art/etc. Nazi.  (Though after this post, I admitted that I’m probably a part of the Grammar S.S.). 

 But seriously. I know that some people aren’t big on autodidacticism, and thus aren’t going to understand when I compare Kierkegaard to Kant, or if I mention the sfumato technique in a da Vinci painting, or discuss the Magna Carta, or the Riemann hypothesis in mathematics, or the religious beliefs of Cathar Dualists, or if I hum a song by Yo-Yo Ma (who, though his name might suggest, is not a rap artist), joke that Jocasta (in mythology, not the comic) was the first M.I.L.F., or in pop culture, point out Katy Perry’s striking resemblance to Zooey Deschanel. I get that.  It’s not like I can’t carry on a regular conversation at the dinner table.  I’m not expecting someone to know all this stuff, and it’s not like I bring it up in daily conversation.  That would be pretentious and pushing the boundaries of rude, boorish behavior.  And it’s not that I think I’m better than them per se, but it’s very frustrating when I have to modify many conversations I have, unless I’m speaking to my father, brother, or a college professor (and since I graduated I can’t speak with profs anymore).  I’m surrounded by intelligent people; my mom, my boyfriend, and (some of) my friends.  It’s not like everyone around me is an idiot.  But there is a certain fulfillment that I yearn for; a veritable cavity of intellectualism that needs to be filled but is oft left void. 

           So yeah, I’m weird.  I’d like to reiterate this point: I’m not saying that people can only send me text messages if they include a quote from Ovid.  [And only in the Original Latin, of course.] But I still maintain that there are some things that people should know, especially if they are college educated.  And most people don’t seem to know these things, even if they have a B.A.  So bottom line: I have accepted that I will probably only be around language/culture geeks sporadically, and will therefore only have mental orgasms every once in a while.  But I have not accepted that even a basic awareness of certain facts seems to elude many people.  Like I said, I’m surrounded by smart people, but sometimes I’m not, so I’m often left having to talk about generic topics like Facebook, Gucci Mane (whose music is a disease) or Vodka. 

See?  I told you when it comes to this, I’m an asshole.