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True genius is certainly an inborn gift, that cannot be manufactured, even with the benefit of a lifetime's education and an obnoxious personality. If you're like most people, with a mass-production mentality, appearances are what count anyway. Armed only with a sense for the bizarre and a will to deceive, you can be well on your way to chat-show fame.
You should spend your nights alone, in a candle-lit cave, memorizing sundry facts from the Encyclopedia Britannica Micropedia and clipping newspaper fillers from the New York Times. A TV Guide subscription is essential for memorizing the public t.v. schedule and the story lines of "gritty, realistic" shows like Hill Street Blues.
Firing Line is required viewing for any fake worthy of the title. You must grasp the opportunity to rustle a multitude of patented polysyllables from humble Mr. Buckley, witnessing the powers that a pseudo-intellect can bear, as the guest left-winger squirms in his seat and wishes death to Roget for allowing a thesaurus to fall into Billy's shameless hands.
Your personal living habits should border on the disgusting, as a tidy home will certainly raise doubts concerning your priorities. Piles of obscure hardbacks and cryptic scribblings on cocktail napkins should fall naturally into disarray, waiting to impress the uninformed.
Intelligence and eccentricity go hand-in-hand, and you won't be taken seriously as a genius unless you show a self-destructive flair. For this reason, heavy drug abuse is common among the tortured possessors of great minds. From the uncorked spirit of Dylan Thomas to the Technicolor opium dreams of Coleridge and Baudelaire, seemingly sublime verse, full of symbolism and meaning, pours freely from the unhinged mind.
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