Boy Genius...

So I don't know if anyone else was as bored as me saw the article on MSN's home page this morning about Kid Geniuses? Anyway, I was intrigued, so I read that article and then clicked through to another .one. The second article was on cracked.com so it was funny as well as informative. Then I saw something that caught my eye...

"Some consider William James Sidis the smartest man who ever lived, with an estimated IQ of 250 to 300. For the sake of comparison, you only have to have an IQ of 136 to be a mere run of the mill genius, and your average person is somewhere in the 85 to 115 range"

and I had to call in Sean, my very own Boy Genius.

Me: So I'm reading this article about child prodigies and guess what? You are just a run of the mill genius! You aren't even like a super genius or anything. And my IQ qualifies me to be a run of the mill genius too. What do you think of that??

Sean: Did you look at the pictures of those kids? I'm pretty sure I don't want to be that smart if I have to be that dorky. And that one? Yeah, he took a vow of celibacy. Are you kidding me? No way.

Me: He probably just wanted to not get distracted by the whole boy/girl thing.

Sean: Or he was a huge dork and couldn't get a girl to go out with him.

Me: This one was performing operations at 7! What were you doing at 7?

Sean: plotting total world domination.

Me: Oh yeah. You were a little scary back then. I'm just saying. If it hadn't been for those chubby little cheeks...

Sean: Obviously those kids are some serious overachievers with no idea how to have fun. I'm just pacing myself.

Me: well you better do something impressive soon. Slacker.

Sean: That's it! When I build the world's first spaceship built for long term space travel, you are soooo not invited.

Me: Whatever Mr. Average Genius Joe.

Seriously, can you imagine raising one of those little guys? Sean was hard enough. I wonder if the three year old kissed his mom before heading off for a hard day of college physics???

♥Spot

It's Friday? Where did the week go?

So I've got to tell you guys...I'm exhausted. It has been a humdinger of a week. Between Mo's illness and this whole daylight savings time BS, I can barely see straight. Throw in the guilt I'm feeling over not devoting at least two hours a day to NaNoWriMo and I think I might be on "overload". So in the interest of preserving my sanity and yet still providing you with a half way decent post, I dug out something old. Well, not that old. Couple years tops. And by 'couple of years' I totally mean five. And yes, it is poetry again. Sorry for those of you who showed up for funny and got poetry instead. Sometimes we can't have what we want (because I really want to be done with my novel and to be able to take a 3 hour nap. Neither is happening today). Sometimes the candy bowl is filled with dum dum suckers instead of chocolate. It happens. Stop whining.

The Muse

So you traded in your faerie wings
all fluttery opalescent brilliance,
swapped them for some demon horns
slightly bent and always in need of polishing.
Took off your flowing dress
of softest velvet petals,
and cloaked yourself in thorns instead,
sharp, poison-tipped things.
No longer accompanied by lilting notes
softest breezes, natures murmurings.
Now, you're lulled to sleep by
the cacophony of human suffering.
Instead of the innocent laughter
of children and young lovers-
you prefer the anguished wails
of the dying and newly damned.
When I chanced to ask you why
the choice, the change?
You merely gave me your recently
perfected satanic smirk
and replied-
That finding lost souls and luring them
to the seductive darker side
was far more easy then inspiring
the unimaginative masses.
Far more fun to cause tears
then to lighten the sadness.
On the whole, you'd simplified your life,
cut your losses and moved on.
And wasn't there something that I'd like..
fame...fortune...beauty...
you could cut me a deal.

SMT 03/04

Like it? Great! Don't like it? Well that's okay too. To each his own.

Hope everyone has a fabulous weekend,
♥Spot

Come in for a "spell"

Okay! I do not have hardly any time today. Mo (Lulu) is home today and as usual when she's home we have to go to town and run her fifty two errands. Yes, I know that she's old enough (I mean she lives on her own now. Kinda) to go alone but I enjoy spending the time with her. So, I have a ton of things I'd like to blog but they will have to wait. So today I'm going to give you what I hope is a treat. It's in keeping with my "October Ghosties" series but it's not a ghost story. It's not even a story. It's a ...wait for it...poem. Hey! You in the back of the class! I do not want to hear any groaning! Poetry is good! And you're going to like it! (And if you don't, don't tell me). Just kidding. I'm open to all constructive criticism.

Anyway it's just for fun. We were driving to pick up Mo from girl scout camp one year (I think she was like 10, so eight years ago) and it was an hour and a half drive from where we live. Along this one back road (and I do mean back road) we passed this old cemetery on a hill. And me, being me, and extremely bored, I started writing a poem in my head. And the following poem is what I came up with. I'm also giving you a picture, to set the mood. I hope you enjoy!



The Spell


In an old dark cemetery
Upon a lonely hill
Beside a fallen oak tree
I feel night’s eerie chill.
The moon is full above me
The ground wet beneath my toes
To stand here is to court Death
Or so the story goes.
Two candles sit before me
A stick of incense burning near
I chant a secret litany
My voice rings loud and clear.
It is not fame or fortune
Nor beauty that I seek
It’s for Love I’ve made this journey
To the graves by Deadman’s Creek.
My lover lies with another
Her skin so ghostly white
As I call upon dark powers
To end her life this night.
She stole him with her magic
A bold and daring plan
But not a game she should’ve played
For I hold the winning hand.
Her breath will cease, her soul take leave
Before the dawn’s first light
And I will have my sweet revenge
With the work I do this night.
Her death will not be called a crime
No fingerprints to be found
Although my ma calls it a sin
To wish her in the ground.
And as they put her in her grave
Beside the coffin I will stand
As we walk away that day
I’ll take back my lover’s hand.
It’s sad to have it end this way
A part of me will miss her
Backstabbing lying slut she is
And yet she is my sister.*
So if you’d steal another’s man
Bear my tale in mind
It’s hard to tell just what might happen
If you choose to cross that line.

SMT 07/00


*My sister has never ever tried to steal my man. Just wanted to be clear on that.

And obviously, when I copied the poem it had a date on it. So I guess it was 9 years ago. =]

Hope you enjoyed,
♥Spot