Non-Nerd Shame

March 2, 1997

By Morgan Carlson

Sigh.... as I watch Revenge of the Nerds for the umpteenth time, I'm
realizing a very tragic fact:
I'm not a nerd.
Well, not really. Unfortunately, America's fascination with such fads
as 'the retro look' and 'being uncool is cool' have pretty much made it
impossible to be a real nerd. Computers aren't for social shut-ins
anymore; hell, all of us use one, don't we? Glasses are spreading like
wildfire - as far as I can tell, most of the Hofstra family at least owns
a pair. And if you wear the nerd ensemble of pants-to-your-shoulders and
taped glasses, you're seen as a brave, unique guy who gets to hang out
with other Generation X-ers and have emotional sex with poetry-obsessed
girls with names like Lily or Elandra.
Oh sure, the popular kids still shun us nerd-types. But there's no
more hostility or anything; we just go our own ways. I guess that's
good, I mean, human understanding and civility are positive things. But
where's the anti-glamour in being a nerd? Now we've basically been
lumped in with 'the alternative kids', those pesky kids who have wardrobes
that MUST include T-shirts that:
1) Have a big, glittery heart on them.
2) Have Mr. Potato Head, The Transformers, or some other retro toy on them.
3) Portray some obscure band they may or may not have ever heard.
How can we, er, um, how can the people on this list who consider
themselves nerds reclaim true nerdhood? Computers are no longer our
domain.... heck, they're the occupation of the future. Where can we
dwell, then? Hmmm.... well, I have good friends already, so I guess I'll
go nerd solo.
Cause damn it, I want the nerd lifestyle! I want a senile grandmother
who buys all of my clothes for me from Uncle Sal's Discount Synthetic
Fibre Emporium. I want glasses with the tape between the lenses
pre-added during manufacturing. I want shoes that are so ugly yet sturdy
that they will outlive my grandchildren. I want a girlfriend, either
absurdly tall and gawky or slightly hunched, with a hairstyle that
revolves around how she slept the night before. She has an even more
deplorable wardrobe than me, and a make-up collection that resembles the
leftovers of a CVS Halloween sale. We won't have sex, of course - we
won't even be able to see each other naked without giggling profusely -
and we can get our twisted, deviant jollies from downloading Internet
smut together. I want to masturbate at a professional level. I want
jocks to stuff me in lockers and make me do their homework. I want to
make really awkward gestures so cheerleaders will notice me. I want to
be the guy at the frat parties who gets asked to hold people's beers for
them.
Is that too much to ask? :)
- Morgan -

ecent.