A fools brain digests philosophy into folly, science into superstition, and art into pedantry
They say the mind is a temple. Unfortunately, some people’s temples are built on shaky foundations, more like quicksand, with a leaky roof and an interior designer who got drunk on stale beer. Hand them the finest wisdom of the ages, and what do they do? They turn it into nonsense faster than you can say “Shut up.” instead of marvelling at the elegance of physics or biology, they’re convinced their Wi-Fi signal is actually powered by the spirits of ancient hamsters running on invisible wheels.
Mixing up Einstein’s relativity with their inability to be on time for lunch is one thing, however, bring up quantum mechanics. Next thing you know, they’re waving crystals and saying, “This stone cures migraines by altering probabilities in the multiverse.”
At a concert, while everyone else is swept away by the music, they’re whispering, “Technically, Beethoven’s third note was off-tempo compared to metronome XIII in 1802.”
In short, the fool’s brain is like a digestive system gone wrong: wisdom in, nonsense out. Instead of nutrients, it produces gas. Instead of truth, indigestion. Philosophy curdles into folly. Science rots into superstition. Art is overcooked into pedantry.
The saddest part? The fool doesn’t even realize it. They sit there smugly, proud of their intellectual casserole, while the rest of us are choking on the smoke alarm of their thoughts.
So maybe the ancients were onto something: wisdom is not just about what you take in, but how your brain handles it. And if you can’t process it properly, maybe just stick to pizza. At least pizza digests predictably.