It has been several days since I made the half surprise discovery that I am a genius, by turning my sock inside out (see Yes I am a Genius), and during those days I have plumbed the depths and heights of intellectual isolation, yes, its lonely at the top.
Last night though, I met two fellow sock geniuses, and debate relentlessly raged quietly and pleasantly for around four minutes into the night. It started when Angie reported that she chose to accumulate a wide range of very brightly coloured and patterned socks, in order to make the laborious task of pairing easier. Imagine my disbelief. Was she not aware she was sitting next to the original sock genius? My moment to shine had arrived. “A foolish ploy!” I announced, loudly enough to ensure both members of my audience could hear, and would possibly become captivated, “My own strategy is far in advance, simply buy many pairs of the same colour, then all your socks will pair with each other! Look at my fine black socks!” The congregation looked at my socks and nodded, “My God, he’s a genius” I assume they were thinking, but then, Angie after deep thought remarked that perhaps owning a collection of entirely black socks was boring. “What nonsense!” I replied, but I couldn’t deny it, the suggestion had been made, and nothing could stop its avalanching progress. I am a boring sock wearer. But this was as nothing to great minds such as those surrounding the table, we pondered, fell into deep meditation, and brooded on the conundrum until Jo said “Why not buy many pairs, of the same brightly coloured sock? Perhaps in an electric blue?”
“Of course!” said I (being a sock genius I was well qualified to recognize a good suggestion), and with that, the conversation drifted slowly, like an iceberg or a thin jam, toward something less interesting.
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