See that kid over there?
Fat boy?
Yeah. Dude's a
fighting game genius. Doesn't matter what game, doesn't matter who's the opponent, he'll win. It's weird.
Sounds like he's in need of a
manager.
Most definitely, but I find it intriguing.
How so?
Why does a species produce an individual possessing a talent that is entirely useless to the further well being of said species?
Well, suppose aliens invaded and they had a twisted fascination for people playing video games. They would kill off every individual who did not share our fat friend's talent. The remaining individuals of the population would then mate and create offspring also possessing the gene of
video game badassery. Thus the species would survive this evolutionary catastrophe. Fat boy's talent is a random mutation generated by the gene pool for just such an occasion.
But video game badassery is not genetic, it's too complex and too specific to be genetically encoded. Genes specify traits, strong eye-hand coordination, fast reflexes, basic behavioral building blocks. A number of these genetic traits are required for said badassery, but nothing so specific. Genetics only provides fertile ground for fat boy's talent.
There's something else at work.
Hmm… It would appear the underlying mystery is
talent itself.
What exactly is talent?
Genes are too broad, behavior learned through traditional study is too slow and too clumsy.
Certain genetic predispositions are required, yes?
Mmm... agreed.
Then maybe what's at work is some mechanism of learning that is
hitherto unmentioned.
The talented still study and practice, they just learn and make connections much faster.
But why is it so specific? Why does fat boy suck at everything else?
Intent. Fat boy likes fighting games more than he likes anything. He
concentrates more, doesn't get disappointed, or frustrated. He feels at home playing. It liberates him, while everything else is taxing.
So if we gave him something similar in genetic requirements as his fighting games, say driving, fat boy might become a Formula 1 champ, but only if he felt as passionately about F1 as he does about fighting games.
Except he's too fat to fit in the car.
Shall we make him run a bit then.
We shall.
HEY FAT BOY, YOU'RE A FILTHY BAG OF
ASS CUM. IF WE CATCH YOUR JOYSTICK LOVIN' ASS WE'RE GONNA TAKE YOUR BALLS AND FEED THEM TO YOUR MOMMA.