The Not Very Intelligent Design of The Idiot Donald Trump

Idiot Donald Trump unaware of Dunning-Kruger effect

Many people are using the term, “The Idiot Donald Trump”. Many more are merely saying that Donald Trump is an idiot. His Chief of Staff, John Kelly, is reportedly one of them. It’s also reported that Kelly regularly mocks Trump’s ignorance.

Idiot Donald Trump
The Idiot Donald Trump with Kelly

Rex Tillerson was fired after refusing to deny that he called The Idiot Donald Trump a moron. (Although it may have been because Tillerson angered his erstwhile sponsor and medal-awarding buddy, Vlad Putin.)

Idiot Donald Trump 2
Good Boy Badge for Rex

So how did an idiot get to be President of the United States? James Clapper says it was because of Putin. And James Clapper’s one of the few people who’ve seen more than enough classified information to allow them to reach that conclusion.

Idiot Donald Trump 3
Rex and Vlad laughing at the fool

Although Putin supplied the last straw, a significant minority of voters do actually support Trump. They believe Trump’s a straight talker. Because Trump tells them he’s a straight talker. The fact that The Idiot Donald Trump contradicts himself on a regular basis and straight out lies the rest of the time seems to elude them.

America is in the process of providing evidence that humans may not yet be sufficiently intelligent, on average, to ensure the survival of a decent democracy.

The following excerpt from Not Very Intelligent Design discusses the Dunning-Kruger effect and a perfect example, The Idiot Donald Trump –

INTELLIGENCE

Below average intelligence. To utter those words in public is to risk being chastised by any social justice warrior who happens to be within earshot. But half the population does have a level of intelligence that falls below the median, regardless of how you define intelligence. It’s merely stating the obvious. An indisputable fact. At least among those who don’t need to redefine words in order to try to explain their woolly thinking.

It’s said that if you don’t know who the mark is at a poker table, you’re it. It’s the same thing for intelligence. If you can’t tell who the stupidest person in the room is, you’re probably it.

But that doesn’t take into account the Dunning-Kruger effect. Which explains why the stupidest person may believe that they’re actually the smartest. The reason for this is that really stupid people have such limited knowledge that they have absolutely no idea how much they don’t know. Which can cause them to think that perhaps they know a fair bit about something when in fact they know very little.

People who score 95 percent or more in exams, usually estimate their result will be two or three percentage points below their actual score. Because they know exactly what they got right and don’t give themselves the benefit of the doubt on things that they may have got right by luck or guesswork. People who score 75 to 90 percent generally estimate they’ll get pretty close to what they in fact score. They’ll know what they got right, and add a few points for things they may or may not have guessed correctly. People who score 50 or less usually overestimate their result, sometimes by a lot, because they’ll give themselves credit for all their answers, even though a lot of them will be wrong.

Einstein, or somebody else, said that one of the effects of a great amount of learning was that it made one aware of how much one still didn’t know. Which is not a realization that occurs to the brutally ignorant. As Bertrand Russell said, “One of the painful things about our time is that those who feel certainty are stupid, and those with any imagination and understanding are filled with doubt and indecision.”

Donald Trump is pretty much always the stupidest person in the room, or in fact the stadium, but nevertheless he rates himself as a genius. Nobody, believe me, nobody demonstrates the Dunning-Kruger effect more effectively than Trump. The most extreme example the world’s ever seen. Nobody’s ever seen anything like it. Never. Thinking everybody else is not as smart as him might explain why he tells so many lies. He thinks people won’t know he’s lying. About a third of the population rate Trump as a straight talker who says what he means. They also don’t recognize that he’s a barely-literate ignoramus. Which is testament to the first paragraph in this section. And that they are so stoic in their support is testament to the above Bertrand Russell quotation.

If you’ve spent any time in conversation with stupid people, you’ll realize that the designer of mankind once again failed in terms of dishing out a reasonable amount of smarts to a reasonable amount of people.

Thankfully the highly intelligent minority have contributed disproportionately to the advancement of humankind and civilization, and with the collective pooling of knowledge since the invention of the printing press, that advancement is likely to proceed at an ever increasing pace. There are some potential handbrakes to our continuing advancement, notably nuclear war and/or the ascendancy of groups of people who regard science and human rights as blasphemy, but hopefully those threats will not further metastasize.

Intelligence – 0/10 to 9/10 (It varies. The 10 is reserved because the most intelligent people are probably yet to be born.)

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Not Very Intelligent Design in heaven? Better ask God

Not Very Intelligent Design in heaven?

Kneeling Man: Oi, God! Does your will being done on earth, as it is in heaven, include Not Very Intelligent Design  in heaven?

God: An insult with your very first question? That’s not very nice, Neel. Had a tough day?

Kneeling Man: Nothing five or six drinks can’t take the edge off. How old are my grandparents?

God: Is this a trick question? We both know they died a long time ago.

KM: Yeah, but how old are they in heaven? Are they old like I remember them? Or are they in their twenties? Or maybe they’re just kids. Do people get to decide how old they’d like to be in heaven?

God:

KM: God? You still there? If everyone’s in their twenties what’s to stop you trying to hook up with your great great great great grandmother? That’d put a kink in the continuum.

God: There’s no such thing as age in heaven.

KM: Really? So how do people look? Young or wrinkly?

God: People don’t have physical characteristics in heaven.

KM: So why do you look like an old man in all the pictures?

God: I’m God. Those rules don’t apply to me.

KM: Do any rules apply to you?

God: Yes and no.

KM: God, I hate that answer.

God: I mean yes the rules apply, but I make up the rules, and I can change them, so in that sense, no.

KM: Moving on. You’re saying we’re designed in your image for life on earth (a Not Very Intelligent Design in my opinion), but we’re not designed in your image for life, or whatever it’s called, in heaven. Seems like the wrong way round don’t you think?

God: Mysterious ways, Neel, that’s how I roll. I’m going to ignore the blatant plug for your blasphemous book.

KM: You mean my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design?

God: Damn!

KM: How will I recognise my grandparents if they don’t look like they used to? If they don’t look like anything?

God: There’ll be a spiritual connection, Neel.

KM: Where would that come from? We hardly even knew them. We used to hate going to visit them. It was a really long way, winding roads, all the kids got car sick. It was like going to the wicked witch’s house. It smelled of old people. When we arrived grandma would plant big slobbery horrible kisses on us which we couldn’t wipe off fast enough. Why would there be a spiritual connection?

God: You won’t have to spend time with them if you don’t want to, Neel. It’s heaven. You get to do whatever you want. You enjoy yourself all the time. It’s great.

KM: What if their idea of enjoyment includes spending time with me?

God:

KM: God? You still there? God?

God: They’ll get to enjoy spending time with you, without you actually having to be there.

KM: They’ll be tricked into thinking they’re spending time with me, even though I won’t be there? So it’s just smoke and mirrors.

God: There are different versions of heaven for different people.

KM: Sounds like you’re making shit up as we go along here.

God: Isn’t that what we do?

KM: Is dirty old Uncle Johnny up there?

God: The kiddy fiddler? Of course not.

KM: But he repented, made peace with God. Then he went to church every Sunday. The priest forgave him. Are you saying the priest’s forgiveness doesn’t count?

God: He might be in Catholic heaven.

KM: There’s more than one heaven?

God: There can be as many as you like, Neel. As many as you can imagine. For some people, heaven’s all classical music and wispy goodness with not a trace of sex and drugs and rock ‘n’ roll. For others, there’s wine in abundance, mile long rails of coke and hordes of randy virgins, who happen to be quite expert at the sex act, despite their lack of experience.

KM: So you’re saying heaven exists only in people’s imagination?

God: Where else are you going to find it? You don’t have any trouble imagining it’s not there do you?

KM: Nope.

God: And other people find it easy to imagine it is there. A loose concept of heaven keeps everybody happy.

KM: You’ve just admitted that everything about heaven is imaginary.

God: So what? It’s what you believe isn’t it?

KM: I come to you for an argument, God, not meek acquiescence.

God: Perhaps if you get some rest, you’ll be able to imagine me as a more cantankerous old bugger next time.

KM: Knight God!

God: If you like. Night, Sir Neel.

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Be best stablest genius. Not Very Intelligent Design in the White House.

Be best. Be fastest. Be tallest. Be richest. Be stupidest.

Be Best
Be Best Besty Bestest

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, you up?

God: Yes, Neel.

KM: What do you think of Melania Trump’s Be Best campaign?

God: I suppose she tried her best.

KM: Ha, ha. Not much evidence of that. Not much evidence of any affort at all. The pamphlet was an old one with a few changes. That’s not being best, that’s just plagiarism. It’s not even clever plagiarism. It’s just laziness with a few more deliberate, White House lies thrown in.

God: It’s a good word, plagiarism. It’s almost Biblical. Like blasphemy.

KM: You really don’t care about this do you?

God: What’s the big deal? Nothing new about plagiarism. It’s been around since before the Bible. Some say…

KM: All right, all right. Enough with the Bible stuff. How about the bit that is new? The logo.

God: She tried to make it be best?

KM: Doesn’t really roll off the tongue does it?

God: They say she designed it herself. I guess you’ll say it’s Not Very Intelligent Design.

KM: It’s not only Not Very Intelligent Design, it’s bad grammar. Isn’t the point of the campaign to encourage people to get educated, to learn a skill, rather than just having a go and being satisfied with crap?

God: How do you know she didn’t study graphic design?

KM: Ha, ha, good one.

God: She had to do something.

KM: I’m not so sure about that. I think a low profile might be a smarter option for her.

God: Is that it? She used an old pamphlet and you don’t like the logo. So what?

KM: Apart from being bad grammar, there’s also the whole concept of being best. Being better is something that can be aspired to, but there’s only one best. If you don’t win, you’re not best. Therefore, you’re a loser.

God: Sounds familiar.

KM: Exactly. Are we sick of winning yet? It’s the same sort of crap people like Lewis Hamilton say all the time. I want to inspire young people. If I can do it, so can they. No, they can’t. That’s just bullshit. Only one person per year can “be best” as in World Champion. Everybody else trying for that has to fail. If Lewis Hamilton inspires a hundred thousand kids to try to become a champion like him, ninety nine thousand, nine hundred and ninety something are going to fail. There’s simply no space for everybody to be best. It’s a logical impossibility.

God: Can’t argue with that.

KM: It smacks of that tired old fat-cat talking point that poor people are lazy and deserve nothing. They should pull themselves up by their bootstraps. Not going to happen unless they’ve got boots. With straps. And nobody’s going to make any lemonade either, unless they have sugar and water and pots and pans and a kitchen. Some people work two jobs on minimum wage and can’t afford to pay the rent on an apartment with a kitchen. Not everybody can be rich. It doesn’t work that way.

God: I think you’re getting lost in your rant, Neel. Drifting off the point.

KM: No, it’s the same point. Rich assholes telling poor people to try harder. Especially rich, privileged assholes who’ve got where they are through inheritance and grift. Be cleverest. Be tallest. Be richest. Be stupidest. Be best stablest genius.

God: Are you done?

KM: Not quite. Because here’s the worst part. They not only dish out this useless, condescending, illogical piece of shit advice, which they’ve put almost zero time and effort into, they expect to be thanked and applauded and congratulated for it.

God: It takes all sorts, Neel.

KM: Very profound. You designed ’em, big boy. Not your best work.

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Not Very Intelligent Design? Socrates vs Testicles

Testicles swinging in the breeze – intelligent design?

Testicles
Socrates vs Testicles 419 BC

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, I found some pictures of Testicles in an encyclopedia. I think maybe I should have put them in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design.

God: Uh huh.

KM: They’re about things from way back in the day before your son, the sweet, sweet, sweet baby Jesus, was even born.

God: I can see that.

KM: Do you know what they are?

God: Of course I do. I know everything, Neel. You know that.

KM: Do you think I should have put them in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design?

God: That’s a very unsubtle attempt at SEO, Neel. Probably won’t work either. Anyway, what do Greek philosophers have to do with your trashy book?

KM: No need to be snarky. You gave us free will. Freedom of expression. Some of us like trashy.

God: Answer the question.

KM: Well, it explains the background behind the naming of our testicles.

God: You sure about that?

KM: Yep. Socrates is obviously in pain here.

Testicles 2
Testicles are not a good place to be kicked

Scholars are divided on whether this is A, a depiction of the infamous incident in the Greek forum in 419 BC, when Testicles scored an emphatic but immoral victory over Socrates, by kicking him in the spuds, or B, a more mundane occurrence later in the same year with Socrates’ anguish arising solely from the nauseating monotony of seemingly endless Testicular stanzas, Socrates having learned not to interrupt Testicles no matter how painful or boring one of his poems may be.

God: Nauseating monotony indeed. I think you’re making shit up here, Neel.

KM: We all do it, God. You not only made it our speciality, it’s how you came about.

God: What about the other picture?

Testicles 3
Testicles asserting his manhood

KM: This one’s definitely from the the post-tolchock-in-the-Socratic-yarblockos period. It shows a scene in which Testicles, now unquestionably the alpha dog in the forum, holds up a finger to indicate one more poem. Behind Socrates the assembly groan and wail their displeasure, clearly indicating that their ears can take no more, as Socrates begs for mercy, and possibly hints at offering an unsavoury favour in return for aural reprieve.

God: Sounds like bullshit to me, Neel.

KM: If it was written in a book, such as Not Very Intelligent Design, that would make it just as true as stuff written in other books, like the ones about you, for instance.

God: You sound like you need a good night’s sleep, Neel.

KM: Night, God.

God: Night, Neel.

KM: Behold the medieval super heros – Knight God and Sir Kneel Ingman. Arise, Sir Kneel.

God: Do you just say anything that comes into your head?

KM: Pretty much.

God: Night, Neel.

KM: Knight God.

For those who’ve not yet read it, here’s an excerpt about Testicles from Not Very Intelligent Design which is associated with the above rant.

TESTICLES

Testicles was not a Greek philosopher. He was a Greek poet. Famous for being the worst of all the Greek poets. Testicles, the body parts, were named after Testicles the Greek poet because most Greek citizens, if offered the choice, would rather take a swift kick to the nuts than sit through a long and tedious poetry recital by Testicles.

A gentleman’s bollocks hang down between his legs in a sack that offers all the impact protection of a sheet of soggy toilet paper. Which is crazy, as the nuts themselves are as sensitive a body part as anyone would ever care to imagine. Even a mild impact or gentle compression of the plums, is enough to make a man’s eyes water. And a decent kick in the nads will drop any man to the ground and have him writhing in agony for some time. Delicate organs, permanently swinging in the breeze, constantly at risk of accidental knocks or squishing is an obviously stupid design fault. So, why are they hanging out like that? The reason they need to be on the outside, apparently, is that they only function correctly a few degrees below core body temperature. So they need to be air-cooled. Seriously.

What genius would design a body part that didn’t function properly at body temperature? And then come up with a sack as a solution to with the problem. It’s as clever as an outhouse at the bottom of the garden.

What makes it completely ridiculous is that it’s so very easily fixed. Make them operate at body temperature, like every single other organ, and put them inside. Out of harm’s way. (To look on the bright side, I guess we’re lucky our kidneys and lungs aren’t hanging out below our armpits.)

Human testes initially develop inside the abdomen. Later, during gestation, they migrate through the abdominal wall into the scrotum. This causes two weak points where hernias can later form. Prior to modern surgical techniques, complications from hernias, such as intestinal blockage and gangrene, usually resulted in death. Another great feature of this total design abomination.

Sloths, elephants, anteaters and birds are just some of the many animals with internal testicles. Which obviously work perfectly well at body temperature. So there’s no excuse for this design stupidity. Or is it worse than mere stupidity? Is it deliberately sadistic? Why the hell are they so bloody sensitive?

The male tuberous bush cricket, Platycleis affinis, has testes that account for 14% of his body weight. It’s a good thing for Jiminy that his plums are inside, rather than hanging out in the breeze. If a man’s nuts were of the same proportion, there’d be a couple of rugby balls flailing around his knees.

Which is nothing compared to Viz comic book hero, Buster Gonad, the boy with unfeasibly large testicles. During a storm, Buster’s gonads were zapped by cosmic rays which enlarged them to an enormous size. Buster’s gonads are so big he has to use a wheelbarrow to go for a walk. True fact.

Balls on the outside  –  0/10 (Stupid beyond belief.)

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The Not Very Intelligent Design of Knees

Knees – the weakest link?

Kneeling Man: Oi, God, I just realised I didn’t put quite enough about knees in my new book, Not Very Intelligent Design.

God: Really? I think you said more than enough about everything, quite frankly.

Knees need a smaller hammer
Knees are tapped with special hammers

KM: When it comes to knees, I understand why you stuffed up.

God: I don’t stuff up. I may work in mysterious ways, but I don’t stuff up.

KM: Your first four commandments are all about praising you, right?

God: Sort of, ish, yeah…

KM: And that involves us getting down on our knees, right?

God: That’s the traditional way.

KM: Your knees don’t need to be as sturdy as ours because you don’t pray to yourself, do you? Or do you?

God: Of course not.

KM: In fact lying around on soft clouds all day means you hardly use your knees at all. So you see, making us in your own image was a stuff up. Because human knees give a lot of trouble and pain and often need replacing well before the rest of the body gives up.

God: You think I should do another big flood and start over with Humans 2.0?

KM: If you do, make sure you read my book first.

God: I know what’s in your book, Neel. I know everything.

KM: Yeah right, I’m tired. Good night.

God: Night, Neel. Sleep well.

KM: There’s another stuff up. The fact that we need a sleeping pill industry.

God: Are you still talking?

KM: No. I’m trying to sleep.

For those who’ve not yet read it
here’s an excerpt about knees from
Not Very Intelligent Design

KNEES

Knees are a problem. Mainly because they’re just not strong enough for the job. Any kind of load or stress can injure them. Fear can make them tremble, as can upright coitus. Ligaments and cartilage are easily torn. Knees can fracture, swell and freeze. And when they get a bit of age on them they can develop osteoarthritis. They should be built out of a tougher material. Like titanium. Which they probably will be if you have to have them replaced.

Knees are often hit by doctors with small hammers, although nobody’s quite sure why. It is thought that the practice was first seen in a movie called Doctor Doctor in 1943, which was the story of a single woman who was so keen to have a son who was a doctor that she legally changed her surname to Doctor, and then named her first born son Doctor, just to make sure. Unfortunately Doctor Doctor didn’t manage to qualify for medical school and went to work in a hospital as a janitor.

One day there was an emergency, and on hearing someone call doctor, Doctor Doctor looked up and before he could dispel the error, was rushed by the arm to the emergency room. A dazed looking patient was sitting on the edge of a bed and Doctor Doctor, who happened to be carrying a small hammer, was asked to diagnose the patient’s condition.

Knees
Doctor Doctor’s original knee hammer

After a moment of bewildered hesitation, Doctor Doctor commenced the consultation by giving the patient a light tap on each knee. The reflexive kicks caused the nurses to start giggling which encouraged Doctor Doctor to repeat the action. The ensuing hilarity and applause caused more and more people to gather round and Doctor Doctor was carried away in the moment, performing more and more intricate rhythmic tapping routines on the knees of the unfortunate patient, who subsequently required bilateral knee replacement surgery.

After being dismissed by the hospital, Doctor Doctor began to perform the routine as a side show in a travelling circus, before turning the act into a new branch of medicine called Reflexology, thus finally fulfilling his mother’s dreams.
Knees – 3/10 (Too fragile, insufficiently flexible.)

Excerpt from Not Very Intelligent Design –  available HERE.

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Not Very Intelligent Design

Neel and Mark Ingman were talking one day. Which produced an idea.

Let’s assume the position that man was designed by an intelligent designer.

Then, let’s analyse all parts of the human body with regard to the expertise of the designer, all the while approaching the subject with honesty, an open mind, and with all due respect.

To some, Intelligent Design is an important subject worthy of serious academic study. To others it’s as worthy as a thesis on The Promiscuity of the Tooth Fairy.

Mark Ingman has never seen or experienced anything without feeling the need to criticize, rate and redesign it.

When he walks into a house he’ll often observe that the bathroom is in the wrong place, and that the alignment of the structure totally ignores the path of the sun.

Neel Ingman is not as belligerently opinionated, but is still prepared to discuss and, if necessary, debate any topic at any time, with anybody or anything.

Sturgeon’s Law says that 90% of everything is crap. Mark Ingman thinks at least 99% of everything is crap. And when it comes to houses designed in the last hundred years that rises to at least 99.99%.

Most conversations with Mark and Neel involve something getting a mark out of ten and may contain up to 90% digression and nonsense.

Available Soon

 

Not Very Intelligent Design is a thorough examination of the human body from top to bottom with every part being rated out of ten, in terms of excellence or even plain competence, given the tools of the designer.

It’s also bursting with fun facts and tall tales, and true ones too, that may or may not be closely related to the body parts we know so well. The body parts that we were blessed or cursed with.

To find out the overall rating, the ultimate score, the final reckoning…

Be sure to reserve your FREE copy by subscribing now for new posts and an email reminder.

NOT VERY INTELLIGENT DESIGN

COMING SOON!

The Not Very Intelligent Design of Hair

The Not Very Intelligent Design of Hair

The Not Very Intelligent Design of Hair

Excerpt from the book, Not Very Intelligent Design

HAIR

People spend a lot of time, money and effort on hair. It needs washing, cutting, styling, straightening, curling or colouring. Some people find that it even needs replanting. Or plucking. In days gone by, a noble hairline (these days known as a fivehead, being approximately 25% larger than a forehead) was achieved by women having the front of their scalp plucked bare.

The plucked forehead phenomenon originated after the Queen of Belgium’s fourth cousin, Philomena Pluck, was mercilessly ridiculed as a young woman by other junior members of the royal court on account of her massive frontal scalp area. Pluck endured the taunting for some months before formulating a plan to rise to the throne, thereby ensuring that her appearance could no longer be mocked. By systematically poisoning, throat slitting and eye gouging her fellow courtiers, fifteen in all, Philomena cleared the way to be the unchallenged heiress to the throne. A royal stenographer was reported to have referred to her as the “hairless heiress” shortly before his disappearance, an incident not unconnected with the Queen’s fatal fall from her bedroom window the following day, ensuring that Philomena was an heiress no longer.

Queen Philomena decreed that any woman with an ignoble hairline would not be received at court or be eligible for marriage to any nobleman. Thus the noble hairline became immediately fashionable and, perhaps surprisingly, remained de rigueur for more than thirty eight years following her untimely death.

A lesser known fact arising from this saga is that Philomena’s resolve, in dispatching so many people so relentlessly in her drive for revenge and power, is the origin of the meaning of the word “plucky”. (Dispatching is a technique where tufty patches of hair on an otherwise bald pate are removed in the interests of uniformity, but its origin is not related to the dispatchings of the Plucky Princess.)

So what’s the point of a hairy scalp? Hair that keeps growing and growing and needs cutting annoyingly often, even if only for purely practical purposes? Long hair gets in the way. And the longer it is, the more of a nuisance it is. Long hair can end up in your soup, in your mouth, in your eyes on a windy day, or between the sticky fingers of the pervert sitting behind you on the bus.

Scalp grown hair affects our self perception. Usually adversely. How’s my hair looking today? I wonder if it needs a cut? What’s fashionable right now for someone like me? It’s hard to feel good when you think your hair looks bad. Look at the lengths some men go to to pretend they’re not going bald. Tattooed stubble. The hair piece. Or the full rug. The punch ’n’ grow. The comb-over. The spray thickener. And even the reverse comb-over with orange spray thickener and glue, which can only possibly look sensible in a mirror.

Short-haired cats and dogs have hair that grows to a sensible length, long enough to provide coverage and protection from the sun, and then it stops. They never need a haircut and never have a bad hair day. Which would have been a very good solution for the scalp of mankind, and entirely possible given the technology available to the designer. The evidence for that being true is that short-haired cats and dogs were designed about the same time as man.

Hair anywhere on the head seems to be entirely unnecessary. Sufferers of alopecia totalis are only sufferers because they don’t look the same as everybody else and may feel a little self-conscious as a result. Black guys look good with shaved heads. Middle-aged, chubby white guys, not so much. But if nobody had any hair on their head, we’d all be happy that we’re having the equivalent of a good hair day, every day.

And then there’s facial hair. What’s the point of that? Women and children do perfectly well without it and don’t have to spend any time on maintenance. Would anyone opt for facial hair if it didn’t carry any social significance? And once again, why does it need to keep growing? Cats have facial hair, but around the mouth it’s only about a millimetre long. Without ever needing to be groomed. If nobody had facial hair there’d be no need to signal your affiliation to hipsterism, suicide bombing or any other absurd societal group by growing a huge unruly bush on your mush.

Most men are forced into a regime of daily shaving in order to avoid the itchy stubble sensation. And it’s well known that women do not appreciate stubble rash either on the face or on the inner thigh no matter how little they may complain at the time of acquisition.

Whilst on the subject of intimacy, a cat on your head doesn’t feel anywhere near as cuddly as a cat on the bare skin of your face, (provided you’ve had a shave), and the bare skin on bare skin sensation of touching someone you really fancy should be enough evidence for anybody to realise that all hair is really just a nuisance.

Hair – clearly an example of not very intelligent design.

Final Mark    –    1/10   (because it provides jobs)

 

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