"Fake Nerd Girls"

This topic has been coming up a lot recently, so I figure I’d throw my two cents in about it. For those unfamiliar with the phenomenon named in the title, Geekdom has been beset by an insufferable scourge. Yes, dear reader. With the increased popularity of “geeky” cultural niches has come an increased attention from the outside world, and with it has come… the fake nerd girl.

The rant about Fake Geek Girls typically begins by complaining about “Con Girls”. Not girls trying to rob you of your life savings by investing in a Chia Pet ponzi scheme, but girls that attend conventions- typically, girls at conventions dressed up as some character or another. The refrain goes that these girls actually know nothing about whatever franchise they’ve dressed up as, and are only using the Con as a middle-of-the-year, Halloween-esque excuse to dress up in fanciful, yet always slutty, clothing. Why, you might ask?

For the attention, the geek would respond!

Because according to this particular part of the complaint, Con Girls aren’t actually hot enough to hack it as bona fide Hot Girls on the outside; they’re just banking on the stereotype of geeks being inept with women to buoy their attractiveness up a couple pegs by comparison to girls these guys would “typically” have a shot at. (This is known as being “Con Hot”, and it is not a compliment).

Now- I’ll ignore for a moment the fact that the dudes complaining about this probably have no idea how much of a “true fan” Girl X actually is or isn’t, whether or not she’s dressed up. Book, cover, yadda yadda. I want to take a look at where this argument comes from, and then expose it for what it really is.

So where does it come from? Different people might have different underlying reasons for their aversion to “fake nerd girls”, be they dressed up or not: some might believe girls are using their bodies just for personal attention (as mentioned above) or professional attention (to sell some product or other); some male geeks might believe that a more attractive girl couldn’t possibly be interested in something so traditionally anathema to sex appeal, and so any interaction with an attractive woman in the context of their niche is more an act of pity on her part (and “I don’t need your goddamned pity!”) than a true display of her interest in the subject material.

I could go on ad nauseum; the potential reasons behind the accusations of someone being a “fake” geek girl are legion, but they all boil down to the same thing. I’ll list three statements, each progressively closer to the root of the issue; keep score at home and see when you pick up on it.

1.  “These fake geek chicks are terrible! They’re not even into this stuff because they like it, they’re into it for attention. I liked this Con more before they started coming.”
2. “These people are terrible! They’re not even into this stuff. I liked this more before they started coming.” 
3. “Ugh, this is terrible. Those people aren’t even real fans. This was much cooler before it was popular.”

That’s right, my fellow geeks. If you’ve claimed that you liked being a geek before your niche of choice became as mainstream, then you’ve moved out of Geektown and into that one town that everyone in America names with equal venom- Hipsterville.

Ponder that for a moment. Roll that word around in your head. Turn thee, Geekvolio, and look upon thy Hipster-y death!

See, back in the “glory days” I think some of our brothers yearn for- the days of (and here’s my street cred) reading Unearthed Arcana around Gygax’s basement, postulating on what would one day become the THAC0 system or some shit- liking things like comics (sorry, graphic novels) or fantasy card games was decidedly unpopular. But geeks loved them anyway, and would wax poetic about their +3 Dirk of Attentionslaying to anyone with ears and a pulse. That’s what made geeks so geeky. There was no question that professing their love for their niche would get them a first class ticket to a swirly; they professed anyway. And they would try to turn you to the Geek Side too, even if your expression was something akin to a root canal patient’s without anesthesia. I should know. If I had a dollar for every time I used D&D lingo in a middle school English class, trying to sound cool? I could probably pay off my student loans.

Point is- that’s what a good geek is supposed to do. He or she is supposed to look at another person and go, “Ears? Check! Pulse? Check! HEY DO YOU HAVE A MOMENT to talk about our Shiny Lord and Savior, Malcolm Reynolds?”

(One hopes there’s at least some context to this conversation. Bringing it up as a non sequitur typically sounds about as irritating as someone who can’t stop talking about how much they bench pressed- society tends to call those people guidos, or in the root latin, goddamn fucking tools… but I digress). Point is, a good geek is supposed to be a good spokesperson for their niche, thereby increasing the number of people who dig what they dig, and bettering humanity as a whole.

These Anti-“Fake Geek Girl” dudes don’t do that. They don’t see Random Girl dressed as Tifa and think, “Y’know, I should go see if she’s played any of the other FF games”. They don’t see the shared interest as a conversation starter. They see her as a threat of some sort, as if there’s some planetary stockpile of Geekiness, and they have to hoard as much of it as they can to survive the coming football season. I suspect that some of it derives from “I liked this hobby as a form of relaxation, but now with hot girls around I can’t relax anymore, so I’ll be a twat and hope they leave.”

…This is almost always followed a few hours if not minutes later with, “God, girls always go for the assholes. Why won't one talk to me?"

And of course, some of the Anti-“Fake Geek Girl” Guys (Contest Time: Someone come up with a clever acronym for that) are just Hipsters, pure and simple.

But fuck them.

Because fuck Hipsters.

As a really quick aside- I firmly believe that anyone who’s super into something is a geek. Video games, cars, food, weight lifting, vintage issues of Cat Fancy- whatever. If you get real tooled up about something to the point where you have to bite your own tongue to keep yourself from gushing about it out of context again, welcome to Geektown, here’s your pocket protector. But nontraditional kinds of geeks- people into cars, sports, and so forth- they’ve had fangirls tag along to their various big-ticket events for decades! When was the last time you heard a car buff start bitching about all the scantily-clad women that Honda brought with them to the last bike show? Or, when was the last time you heard your local armchair quarterback complain that he doesn’t think the Cowboys cheerleaders don’t really appreciate the game?

I suppose this is all a ranty and fairly roundabout way of saying shut up and accept the company, man! Whether it’s girls, guys, whoever. The more the merrier. And if you disagree, then…

Well, I’ll say it again.

Fuck Hipsters.

The X-Box Story

So, in the words of Ron White, "I told you that story so I can tell you this story."
This, my friends, is "that story".

It was some months ago now that I was playing a hand of cards with my boys. One of them, a gentleman with an infamous reputation for being a terrible cards player for how often he becomes distracted, became (you guessed it!) distracted and immediately slams his cards on the table. His eyes bugging halfway out of his head, he leaned over the table and into my face.
"HEY!" He exclaimed, "Do you have an XBOX?"

I leaned back so as not to catch another whiff of what he'd had for lunch (meatloaf and green beans, as far as I could guess), and shot a look at the other two patients. They were putting their own cards in order and were paying Patient 1 no attention. I should have followed suit, but being the fool I am, I answered.
"Uh... yeah. Yeah, I have an XBox."
He leaned forward again. How you doin', greenbeans and- a hint of vanilla? "DO YOU PLAY IT?"

I leaned back again, inadvertently scootching my chair a ways. "...No. Nah, man I don't. I'm too busy."

That was a bald-faced lie; I was certainly not too busy to play my XBox, I was in fact quite busy saving the universe as Commander Sheppard. But this guy knows his movies and video games, so I didn't even want to risk the potential for a conversation about the finer points of taking a Reaper to the mattresses. (I was also worried that it might branch into a conversation about taking Miranda to the mattresses, know what I mean?)

Anyhow. Where was I? Oh yes. I'd just told him that I was too busy to play video games.
"I'm too busy," says I.
"CAN I HAVE IT?!"

I blinked. He... wanted my XBox? My unit is so restrictive they can't even have a calendar on their wall. Not even a poster. They don't even have their own clothes on my unit!
"Um... no. You can't. Play... play your hand."
"I can't have it?"
"No."
"Aw."

A moment passed, and for a brief, shining second, I thought I could go back to my favorite work pastime; ignoring this person. But alas.
"WHERE D'YOU LIVE?"

Before I could respond to this, Patient 2 decides to offer me some advice.
"Yoooouuuu bettah not tell him wheah you live," he said sagely, never taking his eyes up from his hand, "Or yooouu wake up one morn', thinkin' you got an Ecks-Bawks but you WONT HAVE SHEEEYIT."

My cards are now everywhere. I have spit onto the table and probably onto Patients 2 and 3- but if 3 gets hit by my spray, I don't see his reaction; if 2 has been hit, he doesn't care. He ignores my reaction completely.
"Yoooouuuu wake up one morn', thinkin' you got an Ecks-Bawks, but he be PLAYIN' yo' Ecks-Bawks at YO' MOMMA'S HOUSE."

Why Queen Elizabeth Hates Holidays

11:20am- I wake up after a fun night on the town with a buddy of mine. After asking my plants how they slept, I move them back onto my balcony and wish them a good day.

11:28am- The bamboo and the oregano are arguing again, so I move them to opposite sides of the balcony. Personally I think the oregano started it but I don't want to take sides.

12:45pm- I lose a couple rounds of video games to mouth breathing 13 year olds. I disagree with their assessments of my sexuality and of my mother. I review the merits of introducing my mouse to the inner workings of my monitor. I decide against this- barely.

1:40pm- I begin writing this account. By now it is occurring to me just how little there will be for me to do today, as tomorrow is Easter and therefore nobody will be around to hit the town tonight. This disappoints me, and so I begin filling the day with things such as balancing my finances, laundry, and eating breakfast.

1:42pm- I have finished balancing my finances, my laundry, and my breakfast. This does not bode well.

2:02pm- My situation has deteriorated to the point where I am considering playing Warcraft.

2:03pm- I play Warcraft.

2:04pm- I remember why I stopped playing Warcraft for 3 months.

2:59pm- After being tricked into joining a Tough Mudder team, I get an email stating that team practice is today. An opportunity to embarrass myself in front of my team? Count me in!

4:02pm- I finish saving my terrible friends from their own blind fumblings through WoW, and grab a bit of lunch. I start imagining all the things that a Mudder team practice will include. Given the fact that my team is both comprised mostly of beautiful women, and our team is (apparently) going to compete in the Least Clothed costume contest, I'm confident that today's dry run will include an acceptable lack of modesty.

4:11pm- I receive a text from our team leader that practice is actually canceled due to everyone bailing- because of Easter. My dislike for family holidays grows.

4:21pm- After my team leader tells me what I already know (that nobody is around to hang out with, but Happy Easter!), I decide to go for a run. I tell the potted hanging fern to make sure that the plants on the deck don't get into it again, and I hit the bricks.

5:39pm- I return to find the basil pot knocked over. Its undamaged, but I have my suspicions. I move it inside and start trolling the internet.

5:47pm- Success! One of my lines comes back with a fish. A friend of mine is heading out tonight. I might not have to forsake human interaction this weekend after all!

7:23pm- A second friend of mine claims interest in causing trouble. Given their two natures, I begin considering how worth it a charge of Criminal Mischief would be on my record. I decide that this would be very worth it, and I celebrate with a quick round of Civ 5.

8:00pm- I, Queen Elizabeth, have given the Danish Empire the business. They, meanwhile, are decidedly out of business .

9:00pm- I get dinner and a shower. Can't be running around town like a raggamuffin, after all.

10:50pm- I have now watched Transformers: Revenge of the Fallen. I have reassessed my earlier position; the two robots who can't read might be racist after all. What I have not done, oddly enough, is met up with either of my two friends. This strikes me as odd because after both specifically told me they were going out, they decided on a "radio silence" approach to the conversation. I begin to suspect that they have either been killed by Decepticons, or that they are Decepticons. Both of these possibilities seem plausible, and I begin barricading my apartment for the inevitable siege.

11:35pm- I have now triumphed over my foes as Akali, the Fist of Shadow, and all of League of Legends trembles before my name. Still no word from the Decepticons; they probably saw my game as observers and were like "FUCK we ain't messing with THAT guy, did you see how he gave those pixels the business? It's like he's Queen Elizabeth or something!"

11:38pm- I have given up and changed back into my gym shorts for the rest of the evening, deciding to at least finish that bottle of white wine that isn't going to get drank any other day of the week.

11:39pm- In the spirit of Easter, I first fill my glass with water. "And now for my NEXT trick!" I announce to my apartment (which is empty, other than the Transformers movie (which is on again for some reason) and my plants), "Ka-CHOW!". I then empty the water and re-fill it with the wine, declaring that I am the Savior reborn. My plants, which have seen this trick before, are not impressed. Oh well.

Happy Easter.

Running Tests on Seashells

I finished Mass Effect 3, yesterday. If you haven't played this, don't read on. Here lie spoilers.

I've played both Mass Effect titles previous to this one, and I did so knowing that my choices would effect my game play later down the line. Even way back when the original came out, I saved the Rachni Queen so that she could come thundering back and kick some Reaper ass for me. I reprogramed the Geth dissidents because they seemed like a misunderstood bunch, because the Quarians seems kinda shifty in their explanations regarding the Geth, and because Legion is just a monstrous badass. I turned down Miranda, Tali, Liara and Jack so that Sheppard would get back together with Ashley; I was in this game for the long haul, and I played this way expecting to be rewarded. I expected that, as a result of my long-term planning, I'd be able to kick the Reapers up and down this galaxy and right back to whatever shithole they were sleeping in.

And then...

Mass Effect 3 happened, and I see that all my work was essentially for nothing.

But y'know, it isn't even so much that the three endings of ME3 were garbage in and of themselves by virtue of how wholly unsatisfying they all were- its that they didn't even do the player the benefit of making basic sense.

Allow me to explain.

This entire time, the point of the Mass Effect series has been a sci-fi, contemporary American spin on a more traditional Lovecraftian theme; that there are forces beyond our control, that we are utterly powerless against, and that fighting them will do us no good. Enter Sheppard, this personification of willpower, chance, and a sheer refusal to die. He alone threatens to upend a galactic cycle that has gone on uninterrupted for millions of years; somehow, out of all the myriad races and individuals that came before him, he (or she) alone has that special something that makes the impossible, possible. He is the antithesis of everything the Reapers stand for; where they are inexorable order, he is improbable chaos. Where they are crushing despair, he is impossible hope. Where they seed distrust and suspicion, he brings cooperation and unity. That's the Sheppard we've been playing, be (s)he Paragon or Renegade. That's what the message of the Mass Effect story has been- as we see our own world becoming seemingly darker and darker, just as the ME universe sees theirs, there are people who absolutely refuse to give in to odds that should have ground them to dust years ago. And, that it is these people that we should aspire to emulate.

It's a powerful narrative, to be sure. And while it is in the form of a video game, remember that non-traditional forms of media such as games and graphic novels have really stepped up their storytelling in recent years. Sure, pretty pictures and being able to pilot tanks helps sell copies of the comic or game, but a lot more energy is devoted into the storyline of games, these days. And Mass Effect's story was one of the best in the business.

So. Here we have that level of immersion, that quality of setting and storytelling. Here, we finally had Sheppard poised to make the galaxy safe once again for Mom, Baseball, and Apple Pie. We'd sunk another 30-40 hours searching every star system, collecting every last ounce of war material. We had every fleet and all our old surviving friends signed on. We shot the shit out of the Reapers orbiting Earth, we made it through the ruins of London and into the Citadel, and...!

...The game's plot suddenly 180's and makes becomes all about whether or not organic and synthetic life can life together?

Uh...

...

What?

Never mind that the three endings were garbage, each one just a different-hued version of the others. Never mind that there isn't any explanation about what the hell happens immediately afterwards to the galaxy at large- such as, how do the various races deal with the fact that they're trapped in Earth orbit with no Mass Relays to get them home? Or just where in God's name did Joker crash-land the Normandy?

Never mind any of that- those issues are their own cans of bullshit.

The biggest failing of the Mass Effect franchise was that its ending missed the point of the game. It took the theme of despair versus hope and changed it into inter-species relations. It changed philosophy into politics.

And they didn't even show us a worth-a-damn picture of Tali's face.

The fuck.