There has been a lot of discussion about intellectuals and genius's and where they (him and/or her (the and in the miniscule possibility that they might be a she-man, mutant with a dick the size of the North Pole, which really means no dick at all since the North Pole is slipping into the fucking ocean and us as a species are getting more extinct by the day and prouder of that fact by the night, as we have stood up to a terrible world and brought it to our levels, all the hurricanes unleashed, the comets dropped from the heavens to break down creatures and tear away feeling, send it hurtling back toward that little dot of energy, that original Atom before Eve, that potential, send us back from whence we came and will have ever come, this is proved moot by us bringing the battle to the Universe, here burning carbon is a war tactic, here greenhouse gases is torched earth warfare (we are Sherman and the Earth are inbred hicks!). we stand athwart the world, the universe and bring her to where are the decision makers, where we decide the power of the winds, where we push out all thoughts of primacy, all thoughts of us 'not mattering' in the scheme of things! Really? We brought you Katrina, we raped the eskimos, we purged the Earth of it's nutrients, we tore children from Mothers, we ran slave ships from coast to coast, we dropped bombs onto fertile earth, we burned whole continents! Don't tell me we don't fucking matter!))really get their intellect from. One school of thought thinks that 'thinkers' are created in a vacuum. No outside force teaches them, they just pick up that fiddle and start plucking away, or twist words around in ways that astound, or numbers into intricate webs of logic etc etc etc etc etc. They just 'are', there is no cruel master who forces the knowledge down the throats of the young with hairy forearms. They don't need it; it is innate smarts. It is the four year old prodigy with electricity emanating from their finger tips and setting off reactions in the physical world, the human world, by inspiring beauty and imparting knowledge on us normal folks!

The other school of thought can be defined in one terrible word: context. Oh, Benjamin Franklin was a genius, was he? Oh, so was Emerson and (pick your philosopher ((((except for the notable exception of Diogenes: see, the point I'm going to make after I tear out of these parenthetical walls (oh, another one I have to break through)is that all these 'thinkers' were very fortunate in their upbringing and levels of comfort which allowed them to sit at their mohogony desks, drinking port, reading poetry, the classics, biology, raping slaves etc...not many Oliver Twist's can become genius's when they are getting fucked by lecherous capitalists with spiny backs and cruel teeth; where are they going to learn periodic table, when they are bent over a table by the bourgois pigs with a taste for porking! How about the sailors, the soldiers, the cooks, the labor men, the fish mongers, the whore mongers? Where the fuck will they get the time to talk about transcending father time and shining an innerlight onto your knowledge throught excersiing the right to a liberal arts (well rounded) education. Hmmm, the point is that the lucky few seem to have a better chance of being intellectuals than the dirty many, which brings us back to Diogenes (now we will jump back to the earlier parentherical) Ah, here we are; Diogenes was a believer that all civilization (as in dressing in clothes, chewing with your mouth closed, fucking behind closed doors, shitting in private) was a crock of crap and would delight in rolling around in the mud and trying to bring civilization with him. Oh, he would have a nice wank with himself in public (dirty (literally) tug job), he would piss on the philosophers in the marketplace(literally), he would act like a dog without the creature comforts that money would afford him. This is why we cannot include this ruffian in our point which will be made when we BREAK THROUGH TO THE ORIGINAL CHAIN OF THOUGHT))) They were lucky enough to be born into circumstances where they could spend their whole gilded life pondering the deep questions, which really don't matter (what happens when you die? Is there free will? What is happiness? Are we just a bag of bones tied together by sinewy strings of spinal fluid with animalistic instincts and the illusion of an ego/soul/conscience/etc? Well, who cares? (Obviously, all of these rich, white planters who would pull the wank from behind the slave shed. They had a great capacity for writing and the long forgotten art of conversation.

("Ah, Reginald! How goes your life, good sir? How's your crop?"
"Ah, Thaddeus! a wonderful year! Ah, the crops! The Crops! They are being picked, just as I pluck maiden heads from the crop of 10 summers ago."
"Ah, Reginald! Sounds lovely. So, what is the meaning of life."
"I've had some down time as of late and have decided that the development of self-control and fortitude is the true means of overcoming destructive emotions. Moreover Virtue consists in a will which is in agreement with our true Nature."
"Fascinating. Ah, it's time for my 3 o'Clock wank with my bumper crop from fifteen years ago."
"Pluck while still ripe. Time, as we know, is fleeting."
"Dost thou love life? Then do not squander time, for that the stuff life is made of. Now where is slave girl?)

Ultimately, it seems that the true nature of genious is elusive. OR it is a combination of innate intelligence and context (context meaning: the unique mixture of economic freedom and slaves)