Stanford’s dedication to tolerance is admirable, and the progress being made is worth celebrating. However, there is one group that has been left at the sidelines: the idiots.

I am a proudly foolish individual. I do not know how to read sheet music. I cannot play any instruments. I do not know how to pronounce many words, specifically tuberculosis, sew, monocles and rural, to name a few. Big books startle me; I have had to stay at least 20 feet from Green Library since I got here. I do not know who Aristotle is, and at this point I’m too afraid to ask. I don’t understand anything about math past trigonometry, and if you try to explain it to me I will become viscerally upset.

I have many questions for you geniuses out there. Why don’t you go backwards when you pedal back on a bike? What are taxes? How do I make out a check? How many nickels make a dollar? Who is that guy on the dime? What is the difference between a violin and a fiddle? Who is Karel? Will I be able to retire with the economy progressing as it is? What is a MemChu? Why is art always confused with what is fashionable? Why does high art belong to the rich? Why is French cinema like that?

Speaking of cinema, why do people think weird movies are necessarily good movies? Why do we praise authors like Marquis de Sade and Vladimir Nabokov who create traumatic pieces like “Lolita” and “120 Days in Sodom” when these pieces are obsessive and objectifying of victims of extreme violence? More importantly, how do you stay warm when you go swimming? How do you put up your bangs when you have short hair? Why are there so many trees here, yet so few swings? Can you imagine the treehouse building possibilities? If Stanford University is so great, then where all the swings? I’m extremely confused.

For equal treatment, I would prefer not to be asked to read books without pictures, watch documentaries with boring narrators or answer impromptu questions without at least three days’ worth of preparation. I refuse to do reading over 10 pages or homework that takes me more than an hour. Instead, I would like to nap, go outside and feel the sun on my face (the largest star in our solar system, I’m pretty sure) and live happily. Ignorance is bliss, and I would like to keep it that way.

All in all, I like not being as smart as the rest of you clams! But I hope no admissions officers read this — I’m almost certain they will break into my dorm, revoke my offer of admission and then drown me in Lake Lagunita to cover their tracks.

Contact Ari Pefley at apefley ‘at’ stanford.edu.