The Patrick Kinney I was friends with growing up was scored at 156 Stanford-Binet. At this time I had only scored 148 at the age of 9. It was only later in the military that was revised to 183. Both Patrick and I just naturally understood he was the brighter of the two of us. That didn't stop the two of us from having tons and tons of fun, building blinding arrays of flashbulbs to detonate at night to try to mimic the glare of an atomic blast. We built guns that fired foam and superglue we thought we could use to stick people to walls. We kept modifying our short-wave radios to receive bands that civilians didn't even know existed. Patrick and I both went on the bus into Lincoln, Nebraska to attend the civil defence classes after school and the two of us surpassed every adult in there in about one week. Kinney and I together were exactly like two evil super villains who had discovered their soul mate in the other. We drew up vast plans to conquer the planet using white noise, secret microwave dishes to fry attacking armies, even at one point discussing using the moon as a slingshot to accelerate asteroids at targets on Earth that opposed our benevolent regime. He and I had a bunch of notes and graph paper in a folder on the ATOMIC CANNONEER 2000, a gun bristling with every imaginable weapon you could imagine plus it dispensed gum. This folder of notes would travel for a while with me while I added to it and then Patrick would continue the design engineering on his end of the weapon our loyal cadre of bodyguards would wield. It fired a tactical nuke salted with cobalt for tougher challenges.
See what I mean about my early experience? Here is a Neanderthal easily drafted into a power scheme by a melonhead. The two of them become good friends and before you know it the Neanderthal is helping with all of these things. It often is a natural meeting of minds. The Neanderthal is enchanted because here is an intellectual peer. Someone to talk to about something, anything. As opposed to the manboons. The "logistics and support" role passed naturally to me. I would be the Captain of the Guard in our coming new order. Patrick would describe the outlines of his long range vision and I would be in turn the one who delegated the necessary tasks to bring it to fruition.
The Patrick I knew could literally think circles around this guy above. I mean, scream around his head like the Roadrunner. When Patrick and I really got going, teachers complained the two of us talked so rapidly it was impossible to comprehend our conversation. Several teachers believed the two of us had intellectual disabilities. This was at a time when I had just won the school spelling bee and Patrick was doing calculus as a 12 year old. Everybody - I mean, everybody - teachers first and foremost - hated our guts except for a very small fraternity of casual friends who orbited around us. We were never disciplinary problems at school of any kind. We were simply different from the other kids for the most part and this earned us their hatred on all sides.
The guy above looks like a typical academic hovering around 120, just enough brains to prevent him from ever realising he is a moron. His ambiguous, weak arguments drifting from one hilarious bit of pseudo-science to another misconception most laymen have debunked are simply unrepresentative of the person I knew in any way, shape or form.
I literally do not recognise him in the soul. The body type, face and eyes match but it doesn't sound like it could possibly be him. He was so much smarter than this gibberish I cannot tell you.
IQ loss and gain are documented throughout human life. I feel something must have happened to Patrick. I don't know what it is. The kid I was friends with in school passed more brain cells in any given bowel movement than the academic above has in his entire head.
There is one other possibility. It is possible that 40 years later, I realize that I used to believe this guy was brighter than I was. I may have grown astronomically since then and it is my perception and memory that are fooling me. I used to look up to Patrick and this guy, I just see as so far beneath me as to be of almost no consequence. He just can't think very well and it shows in the video.
I guess if you really wanted to be brutal, you could conclude that a kid like Patrick who goes into the university system looks like this when he comes out. Literally ground into dust. That is the most agonisingly disturbing possibility of them all.
P.S. There's always the part about no more meat for peasants. Only the ruling classes ate grass-fed beef in Egypt and Sumeria and probably every empire going back for a 100,000 years. The melonheads are always irked at the rabble eating meat and want to switch them back to early death sentences on grains and carbs. So they manage to sneak this into every discussion of climate. Because farting cows. Show me the chemical equation that demonstrates methane making the water vapour mantle a better heater insulator as it increases. Not that cows produce any significant amounts, anyhow. The average volcano belches out more in ten seconds than all the cattle on earth ever have in centuries. I have actually heard that methane is used in refrigeration because it conducts heat out, not traps it in. You can chill just about anything with methane.