Are you smarter than a fifth grader? Yes, of course

What are you about to read has been written with anger, with a bad loser spirit, with revenge, with the iniquitous spirit of the resentful person.

I’ve just checked three little things:

One: TV is managed and represented by a bunch of assholes. I’m an asshole, by the way. So I think I can fit there.

Two: TV has room for pretty people only. There’s no way a shitty cholo like me could ever burst in Peruvian TV screens unless he is used as a puppet everybody can make fun of.

Three: TV only embraces dumbass people, people of little culture. Well, there are some few exceptions.

Two weeks ago I went to the casting of “Are you smarter than a fifth grader?” I did my queue. That queue wasn’t even the one percent of the queue for the public of “Esto es Guerra”. There were a bunch of school girls shouting their heads off every time one of their favorite warriors passed by. Shit! I wish I was one of them, instead of having to wake up every morning at 6 am and sitting in front of a PC and watching the same faces all day long just to make a few soles.

A guy, who was getting in and out the channel building, gave us some papers with a lot of stupid questions in them: “What was the name of your favorite teacher?”, “How were your grades back at school?”, “What do you plan to do with the 30,000 soles?”  

I answered the truth: “Don´t remember”, “Good” and “I don’t know”. I didn’t want to be part of a circus by writing nice and false answers just for Brunito (the programme host) to ask me questions he neither I give a shit about.

I was 8 and I was up for my audition. It was my time to answer 8 questions. The guy I told you about said to us: “At least, try to hit three questions right. Remember: the most important thing is how you act before the camera. How much you know is not important”.

I acted well before the goddam camera. I didn’t show any kind of fear or shyness. I didn’t act as a clown either. That’s not my style yet. Behind the camera there was a pile of subnormal people which, by their tone of voice, looks and behavior, looked like graduated students from La Católica, San Martín and La de Lima.

One of those chimps asked me the questions:

“What was the name of the mine work system under the Virreinato?”

“Mita”, I answered.

“What is the name of the heart contraction movement?”

“Systole”, I responded.

“What civic ceremony we celebrate on October?”

“The combat of Angamos”, I said.

“If I have eight muffins and I have them divided by eighths, how many pieces will I have?”

“Sixty-four”, I calculated.

There were other questions which I can’t remember because, maybe, they were easier than those exposed here. The guy who was asking me those questions said: “Great. You have answered everything correctly.”

Everything correctly? You, pussy. And why haven’t you people summoned me for playing in the show? Don’t you see I need some green in my pocket? You prefer to have white, blue-eyed people in your show instead of having real Peruvian-type guys in a country which is entirely populated by cholos. While I was watching how the last white-skinned contestant took the 30 thousand soles, I said to myself: “You could have been there, big headed dumbass, if it wasn’t because nature made you ugly and cholo.”

Good luck next time.