I know nothing of "intelligence", though I assume it is not just a fanciful idea. I consider this a reasonable assumption because life, as far as I can tell, is more intelligent than I. What I do is commonly construed and measured as being more or less intelligent, but it's more accurate to say that what I do is more or less reasonable, given my circumstances and conditions, not all of which can be known and taken into consideration by the measurer. What I do is limited and governed by available information and the peculiar way I process it. Given enough accurate information and fair-minded processing, I get by. But over time, what I can't do has disastrous consequences, and what I can't do is see the whole truth and nothing but the truth. What I can't do is step out of myself and perceive the whole of what-is without special regard for anything in particular. What I can't do is be "choiceless awareness", intelligence, or call It what you will.
I am what I am, and what I am is limited. I can be no more than what I am. I can get better at what I do, be more reasonable, logical and fair-minded, but even the most reasonable, logical, fair-minded thought process is as structurally limited as the least. This is not to suggest that one shouldn't aspire to perfectly rational, non-delusional thinking, because one should. It's an ongoing, never-ending, enjoyable learning process, and the more one enjoys this process, the more familiar one gets with one's fundamental, structural limitation.
But can I, thought, ever realize my limitation, the whole truth about what I am? If I can, it isn't just because I diligently discover and honestly acknowledge what I can't do - though that's essential. It's because for some unknowable, inexplicable reason, the brain is illuminated and the whole truth about the human psyche is laid bare, exposing I, thought, as the factotum I am. Logically, this is the only way it can happen.
But were it not for Krishnamurti or some other guru, would one even entertain the idea of illumination, enlightenment? I think not. My function is to find out what I can and cannot do, and for me to entertain the idea that I don't really need to do this because something bigger and smarter and better than I can relieve me of the job is equivalent to trading the cow for a handful of magic beans. This failure of rationality, this defection we commonly refer to as religion, faith, or some other respectable word, is the capitulation of reason to the seductive power of wishful thinking. Just how many factotums have gone this route and are religiously watering the arid soil of desperation into which they've planted their precious beans, I shudder to think.