My love for pseudo-intellectuals
Hope they don't get mad at me
When I was little, my biggest goal was to be smart. No, no, no, let me rephrase that: to not be stupid.
That’s a rather peculiar kind of goal. Because most goals have a clear beginning and a clear end. For example, another one of my favorites: "Learn how to cook soup" ended with: "I learned how to do it." But the goal of “becoming smart” is like trying to walk on the edge of the Earth. However, for my peace of mind, and yours, there are people who’ve already gotten there, meaning they have achieved this goal. Namely, my beloved "pseudo-intellectuals."
And before you rush at me with harsh accusations like: "Who are you to decide who's smart and who's pseudo-smart?", chill: we’re all stupid. I just get annoyed by those among us who try really hard to conceal their stupidity by quoting obscure intellectual books, the kind that are not mainstream, because, of course, those guys are alternative…
The type of people who say things like, “I’m not impressed by people’s clothes or their money, but by the beauty of their mind.” Okay, then why, my dude, are you wearing a shirt that costs more than my salary? Аnd to top it all off, you didn’t even bother to iron it.
There are also those who try to impress by using words that mere mortals don’t understand, just to create the illusion that only the "intellectual elite" can grasp their brilliance.
Well, let me reveal a truth to you: it’s just as pretentious and ridiculous as wearing a Gucci dress to a fair.
Back in primary school, I was constantly told: write briefly, clearly, and precisely. Meanwhile, the individuals I’m referring to love expressing themselves in long, vague, imprecise, and convoluted ways. Because, obviously, their goal is for you not to understand them. Quite the opposite: they want you to feel stupid in their company. To make you think they have something to teach you.
Don’t overuse fancy words. Not that they aren’t cool, by all means, expand your vocabulary. But if you overdo it, people like me will just picture you sitting in front of a dictionary for hours, trying to find the most obscure word to flex with.
And, even more mind-boggling—I would persume that your favorite book is The 48 Laws of Power by John Green.
Because it probably is. And one day, I’ll rant about it too. (When I gather the patience to finish it.)
A characteristic trait of these people is the so-called "gatekeeping" of information. Like that one kid who never shares their toys because they’re afraid someone might take them. And you, in turn, feel like that person who’s on the outside of the greatest inside joke (Olivia Rodrigo referrence). Pseudo-intellectuals do the same thing—except with knowledge.
Every now and then, I try to play pseudo-intellectual myself. To find common ground with the brainy high society. I enjoy reading Socrates, Dostoevsky, and I even have a thing for Sartre (no joke). (In fact, I’ll be writing about Dostoevsky here soon.) And it’s absolutely outrageous that they are easier for me to read than your convoluted musings about life.
After sufficiently despairing over the intellectual elite, and mostly over myself, I realized that even when you’re following the path of knowledge, you can still lose your way.
I’m sorry if I’ve been harsh. And absurdly sarcastic. Of course, everyone should strive to know more. And of course, I admire people who find the time to read and absorb all the things they do. Read good books, read bad books, think about them, figure out which are the good and bad ones for you. Write beautiful texts, write nonsense, never stop developing your mind. Learn something new every day. Go to the library, read that damn dictionary. But…do not make the mistake of taking yourself too seriously.
Because it’s always obvious when “knowing” is for others—and when it’s for the sake of knowledge itself.
