Sometimes, when I’m particularly sleepy, I drink coffee. It’s my little way of pistol-whipping my brain in the face and letting it know I’m in charge. There are times when I simply can’t afford to let old Grey Matter drift off and have to resort to sweatshop tactics circa 1982.
Often, however, this just doesn’t cut it. Scientists tell us that at any given time, we are using but a small fraction of the squishy stuff inside our domes. The rest, apparently, is busy playing solitaire, visiting AwkwardFamilyPhotos.com or sharing a spliff.
This, simply put, is not good enough. And so, in a desperate search for scientifically-sound solutions, I have once again turned to Hollywood.
Earlier this week, I caught professional handsome-guy Bradley Cooper’s latest flick, Limitless, at my local cinema.
Limitless taught me three things: Ponytails always look shit, narration is annoying, and one day a drug will be invented that boosts brain power by 1000 per cent.
All along, it seems, my parents and teachers were wrong – drugs do solve everything (they were, however, right about Bradley Cooper being really, really handsome).
The mind boggles at how un-boggled the mind would be if it were able to reach its full potential and win many consecutive games of Boggle.
Boggle, of course, has been the internationally-recognised measure of intelligence since the late 80s (it was only recently replaced by the show “Numb3rs”).
No longer would we navigate this bright and wondrous world as intellectual plebs. The smart pill would be the biggest breakthrough since cavemen learnt to google things.
If my brain received a 1000 per cent chemical boost, I would be able to perform all manner of miracles.
I could complete an intermediate Sudoku, cryptic crossword or one side of a Rubik’s Cube. I would no longer have to pretend to understand Dylan, 2001: A Space Odyssey or anything that comes out of Charlie Sheen’s mouth. I could even, if I really concentrated, say the alphabet backwards.
The possibilities are endless.
Parliamentarians would gain the extraordinary ability to actually explain their policies beyond the ever-popular “because… (insert rival politician) is a robot/communist/puppet/racist/part-time rapper”.
Stephen Hawking would become intelligent enough to realise that no one likes a smart-arse, while Colonel Gaddafi would learn that a full-scale uprising means people don’t like you very much.
Americans would be able to enjoy classic British and Australian comedies without having to reduce them to steaming piles of US-branded sadness and Arrested Development would actually make money.
Celebrities would write their own “autobiographies” and the phrase “should of” would disappear forever.
Excitement would sweep across the globe, just as it did when World War II ended or The Matrix almost made the 90s cool.
But how long would the dream last?
What will Eddie do when people actually start making it to the million-dollar question and he can no longer make snide and condescending remarks?
How will internet scammers cope when people finally realise it’s probably not a good idea to post their date of birth, license number, pet names and passport number on Facebook?
What will Scooter Braun do when he realises he has a stupid name?
And if we are all equally intelligent, how are we supposed to feel superior to our colleagues, siblings, spouses, leaders, coaches and parents?
Personally, I don’t care. I’m way too jacked up on coffee as it is.
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