Dork Rage

dork

Definition of DORK

slang: nerd; also: jerk

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I said late last month I would explain my distaste for the “nerd love” atmosphere in American pop culture today. This comes from someone firmly planted in their dorkdom since the early 80s, and has Pac-Man sweater pics to prove it.

I don’t care what you say. That sweater was magic.

Let it be known people will want to make distinctions between nerds, dorks, and geeks but the overall idea is the same. We know who we are. I won’t argue over details, because it’s pointless. Glorifying such targets of social abuse is detrimental in the end, because a sucker is born every minute. In more recent cliché, the cake is a lie.

Maybe it’s because I’m too proud for my own good? Maybe it’s because I’m Admiral Ackbar, and smell a trap? Maybe it’s because this is a paltry concession to what was the deliberate souring of an innocuous existence? There was no reason for it, other than vying for fictitious dominion. All of it, a gigantic exercise in ugly. What’s even sicker is letting the rugged individualist take a turn at you with their self determination. That’s like me walking into your house, trashing it, and then saying clean it up to avoid “me winning.”

It’s no secret that nerds will drop bank on any collectible item he/she desires. The Comicons and auctions are proof of that. $350,000 for a TIE Fighter Miniature? Ka-blaow! Done. In this sea of expendable income, has it ever occurred to anyone that we’re simply being buttered up for the money? It’s not that we’re smart, or quirky, or often decent people. We simply have money and are being solicited by the consumerist prostitute into a quick ego boost.

Maybe others are fine with that, but it never settled well with me. Why does it have to be about money? Sure, we may have wars with hygiene, be less than attractive, have weight issues (ahem), or fall under the label of “weirdo” but I’ve met more of us that were responsible, thoughtful, creative, productive, and even more likable than society’s recreation of the cattle of Helios. We’re good people.

I suppose I am just a proud dork; I have relived one too many food chain reactions. I’m jaded, and cynical, but this whole wave of fandom still doesn’t feel right. You’re trying to use me now, like you did 25 years ago. Homie don’t play that.

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The Writing You Already Knew

Writing’s a tough job, and a job that must be worked on even when no one seems to notice. What I find interesting is anyone hearing that statement doesn’t question it, but I still see many out there who act as if writing’s a cakewalk. It’s the old phrase “in one ear, and out the other.” There are, notably, some bibliophiles who have acquired a love of writing. I have a lot of respect for them, as they read faster and have a knowledge base multiple times that of my own. They aren’t the majority of people though. You know it, and I know it.

My point is two-fold: it’s a long way to the top, if you wanna rock and roll, and people generally need to be told what to like. The latter upsets me to no end, but I observe it on such a daily basis, it becomes the dead elephant in the living room. I’m not sure if it’s mostly due to availability, as there are volumes and volumes of literature available at anyone’s fingertips, or that people are so focused in their own sphere of living they simply can’t process the concept fully.

I recall a conversation with a friend of mine a few weeks ago. We were discussing writing and the accessibility to wide audiences. What does it take to connect with many, many people? He is of the opinion the right structure opens a clear channel of communication and allows more people to fully understand it. I agree to an extent. If I started to write in a brand new alphabet and phrases, then very few would read it. They don’t understand it, and therefore abandon it. Yes, it’s slovenly, but nothing is there to motivate them otherwise.

I’m of the opinion, though, that it can be complete elitist garbage and still be popular. I have not changed my opinion about James Joyce, ever since I continued my reading of Ulysses. This is supposedly one of the greatest books of all time, but it’s too ciphered. It’s a horrible read and a disservice to the audience. Yet it’s wonderful? Bullshit. Too many people/critics have told their friends it was a great book, read way too much into it, and voila! Successful piece of literature.

This is why I refuse to read anything by J. K. Rowling. Her snowball has rolled, and I’m not big on the young adult section anyway. There are a ton of better experiences left, but are flooded out by the bandwagon. I often feel like a miner panning for gems.

Instead of this being a bunch of sour notes in a musical score, I’d merely like to say this: if you are reading this and feel like you’re passed over, then don’t stop. Don’t stop, even when you feel like you’re writing the worst literature on the face of the planet. Don’t stop when you’re met with silence for the next twenty years, because I will tell you people are thick headed. It may take twenty years for people to catch up with you. Not everything can be a home run, and that goes for every writer. Perhaps the worst thing you can do is stop, as time will pass whether you create or not.