Nerd-off 2006

Since I am chained to a computer (with Intraweb access) all day for my employment, I find myself rather frequently dallying about various and sundry Web sites, looking for a distraction from my meager existence. A scant number of weeks ago, I found such entertainment in the most recent musical video of one Weird Al Yankovich - a video entitled “White and Nerdy.”

As one who is both “white” and a “nerd” (though I envision myself as more of a “geek” - man I love me some raw chicken heads), I found this latest aural venture rather enjoyable. But after perusing said video a number of times now, I couldn’t help but notice a certain smugness on Mr. Yankovich’s metal enhanced maw. An “I’m better than you” attitude that began to stick in my craw.

After my craw had become infected (and I had to miss three days of work), I decided that it was now time for me to take action. Well, Mr. Yankovich, since no one else has decided to hoist you by your own petard, I will take up the charge. Let us have a nerd-off to see which of us is the whiter and nerdier.

Begin:

Yankovich: “They see me mowing my front lawn”

Josh: I have a natural aversion to sunlight and avoid it at all costs

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “First in my class here at MIT”

Josh: Umm…I went to CU Boulder, and wasn’t even in the honors program…but I did learn how inherently evil I am because of my white skin and my penis…though I can’t remember which is more evil anymore…I think it’s the penis

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “Got skills, I’m a champion at D&D”

Josh: Haven’t really played too much D&D…that’s more my brother’s department. I cover the comic book front…

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “MC Escher that’s my favorite MC”

Josh: I’d probably go with MC Frontalot - the lyrical mastermind that gestated the “Penny Arcade Theme” and “Rhyme of the Nibelung.” Of course, I’m more of a metal fan.

Advantage: Tie

Yankovich: “All my action figures are cherry”

Josh: a) Action figures are referred to as “mint,” not "cherry"
b) If they are out of their boxes, they are no longer mint
c) I lack the snazzy shelf display of Mr. Yankovich because the vast number of G.I. Joe figures I have wouldn’t have fit onto the same shelf…not to mention my Star Wars figures…or X-Men figures…and don’t even get me started on vehicles…amateur

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Stephen Hawking’s in my library”

Josh: I think I’m pretty much pooched on this one. I mean, I still have my Physics texts, but none of them were written by Hawking. Has anyone heard of Raymond A. Serway? No?…nevermind then.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “My MySpace page is totally pimped out”

Josh: Pshaw! You call that pimped out? With a white background? Mine has a painting by Alex Ross of proposed X-Men costumes that he did for Wizard magazine. Beat that…I mean, if I had a MySpace page, that’s what I’d have…but I don’t.

Advantage: Josh?

Yankovich: “Know pi to a thousand places”

Josh: 3.14159265…that’s all I’ve got. I do have a copy of the “Pi” song by Kate Bush…I guess I should listen to that more.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “I’m a whiz at Minesweeper”

Josh: Minesweeper? Minesweeper? You’ve got to be kidding me. Okay, this should be an easy one. I’m currently splitting my time between Diablo II and Lego Star Wars II: The Original Trilogy. Sweep this. (Author’s note: I am holding my sac while writing this…never realized how hard it is to type with one hand before.)

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Do vector calculus just for fun”

Josh: My electives in college included three semesters of Calculus along with individual courses in Differential Equations, Euclidean/Hyperbolic Geometry, Linear Algebra, Probability Theory and Abstract Math. I took so many math classes “for fun” that I stumbled into a Minor in Mathematics without even trying.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Ain’t got a gat, but I’ve got a soldering gun”

Josh: I’ve got neither, though I’d probably get a gun first. But before I do that, I probably should get these random suicidal urges under control.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “Happy Days is my favorite theme song”

Josh: I think that indicates that you are a homosexual, not a nerd. I guess I’d go with the theme song to Firefly.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Sure kick your butt at a game of ping pong”

Josh: I proudly claim that I lack the hand-eye coordination to beat a drunk five-year-old at a game of ping pong…on a similar note, I apparently can’t beat a five year old kid at drinking games either…damn that little girl could slam the Goldschlager.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Ace any trivia quiz you bring on”

Josh: Hrumph. I see that you were playing the Genus Edition of Trivial Pursuit. I guess you could play that…of course, the last version of Trivial Pursuit I played was the DVD Star Wars Saga edition. And I won.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Fluent in JavaScript as well as Klingon”

Josh: Jegh…I know a couple of words, but I am by no means fluent in Klingon.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: Oooh. Look at me. I’m so nerdy, I’m dancing in front of the Schrodinger equation.

Josh: I frickin’ derivated the crap out of that abomination to find its probability density function so that I could use it to determine the location of a single particle in a two-dimensional box. Sweep this. (Author’s note: still holding the sac)

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “I’ve been browsing, inspecting X-Men comics, you know I collect them”

Josh: The hell you do! Mother F*cker, that is not the proper way to hold a comic. Bending them? If you’re going to bend a comic after it’s been bagged and boarded, you might as well drop trough and floss your sphincter with it.

For all of you novices (I’m looking in your direction Yankovich), if you bend a comic that has been bagged and boarded, the board bends. And anyone that knows anything knows that if a board bends, it stays bent, which will cause your comic to bend and be permanently disfigured a la Mel Gibson’s face in The Man Without A Face…or his career after dropping a few racial epithets.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “I edit Wikipedia”

Josh: Can’t say I’ve ever done that. I did waste an afternoon reading the flame war over the article on Freemasonry, though.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “I memorized Holy Grail really well”

Josh: While I enjoy the film, I can’t say that I’ve memorized it “really well.” I could paraphrase it to the annoyance of everyone around me though.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “I got a business doing Web sites”

Josh: Yeah, and my job is professional sex slave for Natalie Portman…and Keira Knightley…and Jeri Ryan.....................sorry, got a little distracted there. What was I talking about?…Oh yeah. Come on Yankovich, we all know that you are a multi-Grammy-award-winning musician. Me? I’m a copywriter, and I spend all day writing boring marketing material about servers and tape libraries and service oriented architectures.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “I got myself a fanny pack”

Josh: Your point. I’m not even going near that.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “They were having a sale at The Gap”

Josh: Slow down, cowboy. You shop at The Gap? What kind of a nerd are you? I buy my staples - pants, underwear, socks - at Wal-Mart. Everything that covers my upper half (re: T-Shirt) is purchased where real nerds buy their clothes, online or at a SciFi convention.

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: Spend my nights with a roll of bubble wrap
Pop! Pop!
Hope no one sees me, getting freaky

Josh: Um, what?

Advantage: ???

Yankovich: “I was in AV Club and Glee Club and even the Chess Team”

Josh: Drama, Basketball, Soccer…yeah, I lost this one. In my defense though, I went to a small, private school (grand total of 12 in my senior class), so they pretty much had to accept anyone that tried out for a sports team…beggars can’t be choosers.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: “Only question I ever thought was hard was whether I liked Kirk or did I like Picard”

Josh: If you’re a real nerd, you already know the answer to this question “balls to bones.” Of the two, I pick Kirk. (But between you and me, I’d take Capt. Benjamin Sisko for the win every time.)

Advantage: Josh

Yankovich: “Spend every weekend at the Renaissance Fair”

Josh: I went once this last summer.

Advantage: Yankovich

Yankovich: Oooh. Look at me. I’m purchasing the Star Wars Holiday Special.

Josh: Okay, I don’t have a bootleg copy of the Star Wars Holiday Special, but I can tell you that it contains the first public appearance of Boba Fett, the most feared bounty hunter in the galaxy.

Advantage: Yankovich

And the winner is…

ME.

Damn straight. Respect my authority. Don’t want none, won’t be none…I suddenly feel like crying…

Non-Story

“So, what’s it about?”

Thomas cocked his head slightly, “What’s what about?” He had not been paying attention to the conversation for a couple of minutes now. Instead, he had been focusing all of his attention on the new red-haired waitress. She had her hair in pigtails and wore a tight t-shirt that didn’t quite reached down to her waist, exposing a well-defined midriff along with an eye-catching belly-button ring.

Thomas and his friend Matt, the one that had asked the question, had been coming to the Walnut St. Café for two years now, and every waitress (never a waiter) had come with a short shirt and a pierced belly button. This fact alone was why both Matt and Thomas continued to come to the café long after graduation, when caffeine was no longer required to fill the gap between last night’s party and today’s classes.

Matt sighed, shaking his head in frustration. “Your story.” He paused for a moment, waiting for Thomas’s eyes to shift from the waitress back to him. “The one that you’ve been wasting all of your time on. The one that you were worked on instead of going to Jeff’s party.”

Thomas finished pouring the second creamer into his coffee before replying. “Oh, right. It’s, uh…well, it’s...” Thomas cooled his drink by blowing on it while he tried to find the words.

Glancing one last time at the redhead, he answered, “Well, it’s not exactly what you would call a story. I mean, it is a story – characters, fiction, dialogue – all that. What I mean to say is that it’s not what you’d call a story.” He placed the emphasis on the word “you,” dragging out the word to drive his point home.

The Walnut St. Café was one of those cozy, hole-in-the-wall establishments that were better known for ambience than flavor. From the halogen lamps to the used books lining the walls to the ceramic kittens arranged on the mantel over the faux fireplace – every detail was meticulously planned to make the patrons feel like they were in someone’s home.

The walls were a faded beige, artificially scuffed and marred to exaggerate their age. Old, worn couches were littered about, carefully placed to maximize conversation. It was, in fact, on one of these couches – a blue and green striped one – that Thomas and Matt held their conversation.

Finding the words, Thomas finally answered, “Not a lot happens in it really, it’s just about two guys sitting around talking. Kind of like we’re doing now.”

Matt let this sink in for a moment. “So it’s about a couple of guys sitting around a coffee shop? That sounds boring.”

Thomas shook his head. “No. They’re not at a coffee shop. They’re at a bus stop.”

“Still sounds pretty stupid.” It was now Matt’s turn to blow on his coffee. After taking a sip, he added, “I thought you wrote sci-fi stuff, anyway.”

“Well, it’s at a bus stop in the future.” Ignoring the scowl this answer brought to his friend, Thomas continued, “They’re talking about bus schedules.”

Matt set his coffee down. “You’re kidding, right?” Thomas’s sheepish grin was a clear enough answer. “You’re not kidding…Holy crap, dude. That just sounds god-awful. Why would you think that anyone wants to read that? Nobody wants to read about two guys talking about bus schedules in the future.”

“Well,” Thomas answered defensively, “they’re actually talking about literature.”

“What?”

“Yeah, the bus schedules are a metaphor for literary conventions.” Thomas took another sip, letting the fact sink in. “It’s really self-reflective about the nature of writing and the role the speaker plays in the voice and tone of –“

Matt cut him off before he could finish. “You’ve already lost me. I’m not even reading it, and you’ve already lost me. Nobody in human history has ever wanted to sit down and waste their time, reading about two guys sitting around a coffee shop—”

“Bus station.”

“—bus station, talking about literature.”

“Hey guys. Can I get either of you anything?” It was the red-haired waitress that Thomas had been ogling earlier.

“N-no. We’re good.” As always, Thomas’s stutter acted up when speaking to women. Matt let himself smile at his friend’s discomfort.

“Okay, then. Well, let me know if you change your mind.”

She began to walk off when Matt stopped her. “Actually, there is something you could help us with.”

“Yes?”

“Well, my friend and I were having a discussion, and we were hoping an outside opinion would prove useful.”

The waitress wore a coy smile. Even though she was new, she was already used to being hit on by customers. “Sure. What do you want to know?”

Cocking his head slightly and in the most serious tone he could muster, Matt asked, “Do you find bus schedules interesting?”

“That’s your question?”

“Yeah.”

She allowed herself a slight laugh before responding. “No. I don’t find bus schedules interesting.”

Matt nodded his head briefly in agreement. “Fair enough.” He continued with the serious tone he had used earlier. “Now, what if I told you that the bus schedules are a metaphor for literature? Would you have the same answer?”

The waitress’s confusion was obvious on her face. “Um. I’d still say that they weren’t interesting.”

Matt smiled “Thanks.” He turned back to face Thomas.

“That’s it?” the waitress asked.

“Yeah. Thanks again.” As she walked away he smiled at Thomas. “ See, I told you.”

Thomas had been much less entertained by the exchange. Staring Matt straight in the eye he said, “You’re a dick.”

“What?”

“You didn’t have to embarrass me in front of her.” Thomas’s face was a slightly flushed, showing how upset he was.

“Dude, she didn’t even notice you. If anything, she thinks I’m the weird one.”

“Whatever.” Thomas shifted his focus to stirring his coffee.

Matt allowed his friend a couple of minutes to calm down. When he was sure that the storm was over, he continued, “Is the bus at least cool?”

“Huh?” Thomas pried his gaze back from another waitress, a brunette this time.

“The future-bus, does it come flying in? Or is it driven by a robot or something?”

Thomas’s sheepish grin returned, “Well, it’s not that kind of future. It takes place three months in the future.”

“What?”

Thomas nodded to make it clear that he was serious. “Yeah, that’s one of the things I was playing with. See, the story is about you in the future.” He pointed at Matt when he said “you.”

“The story is about me?”

Thomas corrected him. “Not you, you. The reader, you. Every reader. It’s about everybody. Anyway, I wrote the story in the future, but at a defined point in the future so everything is in the future imperfect tense. In other words, every time I use a verb I –”

Matt raised his hands, stopping him. “Dude. Stop. No. You’re done. You’re done. I am not going to hear anything more about your stupid future but not future story of two guys sitting at a bus station.”

Before Thomas could respond, Matt continued. “It’s a story. In the future. If you do a story in the future, you either have robots, lasers, or space travel,” he said, counting off the options on his fingers. “I don’t even like this crap, and I know that. You write a future story about technology going crazy or the perfect society going down the toilet or something like that. Sci-fi is all about picking a trend that’s going on today and then running that concept into the ground. You don’t write a story about bus schedules.”

Thomas’s annoyance was starting to show, his words biting as he answered. “I told you when we started this conversation that it wasn’t what you would consider a story.” Again he dragged out the word “you.” Crossing his arms, he continued “I didn’t write it for you, anyway. I wrote it to make money.”

Matt’s voice raised in pitch as he asked “How are you going to make money off of a stupid-ass story like the one you just described?”

“Well, I was going to try to sell it to one of those literary journals. They eat this crap up,” he explained. “They’re all about self-reflective writing, and if you sprinkle in a few college lit words – intertextual, juxtapose, interlocutor – they’ll be throwing money at you.”

Matt’s tone showed that he was quickly losing interest in the conversation. “Whatever, man. It’s still a crappy story.”

After sitting in silence for a few seconds, he added. “You know what you should do? You should apologize to your readers at the end. You should make a new character that represents the reader.” He pointed to a man sitting at a table nearby. “Like that guy.” Matt’s finger ticked slightly to the right as he added “or her.”

The man was rather ordinary in appearance. He was of average height and average weight, wearing common clothes that one would find anywhere. His skin was a light tan that made it difficult to tell his race. His hair was in a popular style, and the color seemed to shift depending on how the light hit it. The woman that Matt had indicated was seated next to him, and oddly enough, matched the same description.

“You should have one of your cyborg bus passengers from three weeks in the future, turn to the reader character,” Matt turned his body away from Thomas to the couple now collectively designated as “the reader”, making it difficult to tell which of the two he was addressing, “and your character should say something to the reader, like, ‘I’m sorry. I have no business writing. I am not the least bit entertaining. I lack both talent and skill, and I sincerely apologize for the verbal suckage that I have just forced upon you.’”

Matt turned back to face Thomas. “Or something like that.”

Thomas sat still for a moment, his eyes focusing on the almost empty cup of coffee in front of him. With a sigh that conceded defeat he murmured, “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He reached into his pocket, pulled out some change, and dropped it on the table. Standing up from his chair, he paused, his eyes again resting on the last few sips of coffee in his cup.

“On second thought,” he said as he scooped up the change, dumped it back into his pocket, and downed the last of his coffee, “screw ‘em. Screw ‘em all.”

Thomas then walked out of the café with his middle finger extended, passing by Matt, the red-haired waitress, and the average couple – the readers.