A man dies and goes to Heaven. Unlike he had expected, Heaven is essentially a really long hallway with doors on either side, each with a short IQ range listed on it. Inside, he learns, the rooms are perfectly tailored so that the conversation will match the intelligence of the people in them. He opens the 170 door. "Well," comes the conversation inside, "I've always found Fourier transforms to be a rather limited way of interconverting what are fundamentally..." SLAM. Too rich for him. He heads down the hall a bit to the 115 zone and opens the door. "I just read 'Generation X'," comes a voice, "and though Coupland doesn't do too badly in identifying his generation's fundamental angst, I was a bit confused by..." SLAM. Not bad, but now the man was getting curious, and wanted to see what was further down the scale. He tries 95. "Hey, did you read the paper today? Says interest rates will go up again..." SLAM. How about 60? "Huh. Thought 'Married With Children' last night was pretty funny. Didn't get the bit about the hooters, though..." SLAM. It was getting pretty bad. He tried 35. The people inside were looking at one another and drooling. Finally, he came to the one marked with a 10. He hesitated, fearing what he would see when he opened the door. But he did, seeing only two guys inside. "So," one said to the other, "what size sticks do you use?"