A Pocketful of Poesy was and is again a Poem-a-Day(-on-Average) Blog! For 2009, 2010, 2011, 2012, and now for 2017 and going forward, you may expect to see 365 poems every year, 366 for leap years.

but aren't they all random?

Monday, October 17, 2022

fullish deck

So first off, there is
no one (1). Ace pulls
double-duty as one
or fourteen as needed.

So if this were
the scale of human intelligence: 

2
3
4
5
6. 

7
(theoretical: 7.5)
8

9
10
J. (11)
Q (12)
K (13)
A. (14) 

Average would be 5, 6 or
7. That's not where it falls
numerically, but a statistical
bell-curve distribution bears
me out. Numerically, it would

hit right at 7.5,

leaving out the fact that the smartest
(Ace) is also sometimes 

the stupidest.

That's more realistic than some like
to get. In reality, you have to face facts:
no number one, and let it go at that.

Two
is the loneliest number now, somehow.

We don't find some undisputed #1 - and
then laugh to discover it's the dumbest
around!
Nor do we find human baseline
normal hits at the midpoint
of all intelligence possible.

It hits right strong flush
in the range of adaptively
adequate to thrive,
and with 
social creatures like us, that's
far less a competition than a

collaboration. 

If we take a step back, rationally 
each of us is playing with a deck 
of between 12 and 172 cards, but
only 52 of them can even be real,
and nobody has more than 38-44 
of those. The extra cards are made
-up woo woo horseshit in suits like 
cups, coins, swords and wands (or 
staves, if you overcompensate for 
what's in your hand). Sometimes 
SORRY! Or UNO, even Old Maid. 

These don't count, but they can mess 
you up if you shuffle what cha got 
and come up with a hand full of 
nonsense. 

That's the deck of intelligence 
each of us has. Nobody's all aces 
straight through, it matters the topic 
the field, the suit plus high card. 
We shuffle, we deal - this occurs 
cognitively, in the inkle, AKA 
the thinknoodle, the wonderknot 
- the brain's mind. It's normal, 
don't romanticize the thinking 
process, please. 

We pull from the deck and peek 
at what's in our hand, and we 

grin, 
or groan, 
or blush, 

or remain impassive. 
Inscrutable. 

Despite an amazing hand of 
five of diamonds, queen of
cups, ace of fives, nude maid
and SORRY!

who the hell 
put that ace of fives 
in there. Some might like 

to know. 

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