If you’ve been in Mensa long enough, then you’ve probably heard of “Densa,” the parody version of Mensa created for “the other 98 percent.” Densa actually has a website (it’s not the obvious “densa.com” but rather http://home.comcast.net/~czell/densa.htm), a Wikipedia page that explains how it came about (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Densa), and even a SIG (website at http://www.densasig.org/).
I’m making my own version of Densa only it’s not for the other 98 percent but rather the two percent—the two percent of the population with the lowest IQs.
I run into eligible Densa candidates all the time. Starting with politicians.
Actually, to be fair, most politicians are smart. Their problem is not a lack of smarts but rather the fact that they think we aren’t smart. Although many of the policies they’d like to push on us are, well, not too smart.
The next group that’d be a shoe-in for Densa is certain lawyers—all due respect to some of my friends and acquaintances, who are rather bright lawyers. Many lawyers, in fact, are smart. But some combine density and arrogance—a deadly combination. Thankfully, these folks aren’t neurosurgeons or airline pilots.
Another group I’d throw into Densa (or throw off a bridge, if I could) is some of the so-called “customer service” staff at certain retail stores. At some stores I’ve been to, if you’re finally lucky (or maybe, UNlucky) to find someone to “help” you after hours of looking, more often than not you’ll get an “Oh, that’s not my department.”
BEFORE you even open your mouth to ask a question!
The next time somebody does that to me, I’m going to respond by saying “Well, I was going to leave you a nice fat tip, but since ‘That’s not your department,’ I’ll find someone whose department it is!”
The next group of people who’d easily qualify for Densa are the worst drivers you see every day on the road. The ones who drive 40 miles per hour in the fast lane on the highway. The ones who could drive all the way to Orlando and back with the left turn signal on the whole way. The ones who turn and change lanes without ever using a turn signal, as though the turn signal stem on the steering wheel were covered in the Ebola virus or something. The ones who tailgate when you’re doing 70 on the Turnpike. The ones who have the hazard lights flashing—while the car is moving. The ones who weave in and out of traffic as though everyone else’s car were nothing more than an obstacle on the road. I could go on and on. You get the picture.
You could see it for yourself: just drive around your block once and I’m sure you’ll run into a few of these types of drivers (hopefully, you don’t run into them literally!). I’m halfway tempted, in fact, to print up some invitations to join Densa, dressed up as phony traffic tickets. I’d follow one of these drivers around, waiting for him to park so I can place one of the faux citations on his windshield and watch the sparks fly after that.
I suspect some of these drivers, anyway, would actually mail the Densa application in. Along with the membership fees. If they did, well, then I suppose they truly do belong in Densa.