Nerd History

So I'm making a blog-response (because this is too long for Youtube comments, I can't make video responses, and I need a topic/would like to discuss this with y'all in comments...) to Kayley's video. In it, if you haven't watched it or don't want to click the link, she discusses her nerd-history and also specifically the group of friends with which she shares her nerdiness.

Now, I'm not saying I don't have friends, but on a scale of 1 to Hank Green, most of them range about a 3.5, whereas I'm pretty significantly higher (or their nerdiness is in radically different categories than mine). At least, this is what is apparent to me, because I know myself far better than I know anyone else.

(Deep down I think everyone is a closet nerd in some sense.)

But as far as open discussion of my nerdy passions go, my best nerd-friends are my parents. All nerdiness stems from something, usually in childhood. It is not chosen, it is an inbred trait.* My dad is a math/sci-fi/WWII nerd, my mom is a Broadway/literature/music nerd connoisseur. I've been picking up a mix of these since I was really young (and impressionable). I take after my mother in the aforementioned areas, but I know enough Hitler-related trivia to fill a small book.** Also, surprisingly, (and pointing to the genetic factor in this) my dad and I recently found out we both love Doctor Who (different Doctors, but still).

Footnotes:

* Which is why I found this to be utterly ridiculous. (Let's hope it's satirical?)

** And also disturb people. Example: did you know Hitler had terrible grammar and only one descended testicle? :)

Different Muscles

I regret the fact that I'm not a very fit person. I am what Gideon's cohort (whose name I have forgotten) in the novel Inside the Mind of Gideon Rayburn would call "skinny fat." My body type is, if not athletic, slim and I weigh a reasonably small amount.When it comes to muscle tone, aerobic stamina and physical endurance, however, I am a mediocre level of pathetic.

I'm not a complete couch attachment, though. I walk a lot--mostly to the bus centre and the coffee shop (which are actually located at the same place--and I eat relatively healthily. I also use some muscles at work, lifting boxes and running to do price checks. But that's, you know, once or twice a week.

If you ask me how healthy I am, I'll probably respond that I'm moderately out of shape due to not enough exercise and I should probably eat more vegetables. And maybe my metabolism allows me to be lazy without apparent consequence but I don't feel like throwing blame around. I'm still fitter than some and there is hope for the future. Get ready for a jumpy transition.

A couple weeks ago, I was asked about my writing, how it was going, how much I was doing, etc. I automatically thought of my novel and said I was taking a bit of a break from writing. But that, like my 'I vote Green' button, is a lie* (or, at the very least, misleading). The more I thought about it, the more apparent it became that I have been writing. A ton.

Unfortunately, she dropped me off at my house at that point so I couldn't rephrase that I've been writing different things. I couldn't tell her that I've been blogging every day this month. I didn't get a chance to say I'm trying my hand at songwriting. I failed to mention how I scribble down poems in my journal randomly or how I wrote the blurb that will be read as my friend walks across the stage at her graduation ceremony. I've been writing countless emails to be sister. I've written tweets every so often.

I've probably given enough evidence. I've been writing quite a lot.

Unlike my physical muscles, I've been working in a lot of different areas of writing. Honestly, it's next to impossible for me to not write. It's a compulsion, something as natural as sleeping. In the exercise department, I could probably use a little more balance but as for writing, I think I'm doing just fine. Sure, I want to work my novel into shape but it's just as useful to strengthen my other writing talents. Right? Right.

*sigh* I really want to get into better shape. *thinks about exercise* I'll get there.


*Seeing as how I am underage, I do not, in fact, vote for anyone. But if I could, I would.

Party poppers are the key to my future

There's a little party popper in my room -- one of those capsules that explode confetti when you pull the string. Around the age of six, I pocketed it from a party, thinking I would save it for a special occasion. It lay in the top drawer of my dresser for years. Occasionally I would dig it out from amongst the other odds and ends I had squirreled away, rolling it between my fingers and considering pulling the string and ending the suspense right then and there. I would always put it back, though, and in that manner, it somehow accumulated a certain degree of importance simply I allowed it to do so.

I wondered on what occasion I would finally pull the string. Nothing seemed quite important enough. Birthdays rolled around and left for another year, fifth grade and middle school graduations passed, and still the intact party popper rested in my room. It wasn't that the actual act of pulling the string was really some monumental event. The thing was, by a complete accident, I had ensured that wherever I finally set that party popper free would be the most important event so far of my life. To pull the string in some way meant that I had declared my most important event. And I couldn't help but feel that once I pulled that string, once it was over, I would feel let down.

Eventually the heavy temptation to just pull the string subsided out of necessity into a vague curiosity that lingers in the back of my head. I still have that teal capsule somewhere in my room. I'm not sure where it is, but given its track record over the past eleven years, I'm pretty confident that it will turn up. Now, funnily enough, I'm reconsidering when I should pull it. I no longer feel enough affection for high school to let it loose at my graduation. Maybe at my eventual/possible/hopeful marriage, but then that would deemphasize the importance of my kid's birth, if that ever happens. At this rate, I'll be delegating somebody to pull it at my funeral, when nobody but me -- and I'll be dead, so I won't care -- knows why it's important.

And, to be frank, I'm starting to think that possibly, probably, when I finally pull that string, nothing will happen. My wrist won't be sharp enough, or maybe the little bit of whatever-it-is that causes the tiny explosion already expired five years ago. It's possible that the little paper confetti is stuck to the plastic that is maybe slightly melted. Somehow, I'll be letting my six year old self down. So maybe, at least for now, it's better to leave the capsule intact. Maybe if I never pull the string, I'm allowing every second of my future to be a contender for the Most Important Event. And maybe that's what I've really wanted all along.

new driver overconfidence, anyone?

Parallel parking so beautifully that I literally wanted to sing and then maybe kiss the steering wheel was definitely a highlight of my day. It wasn't just a fluke either. I did it twice in a row and I knew exactly what I was doing both times. I'm still high on the joy of being a confident driver right now. It's unbelievably great.

My road test is in 23 days. Or 22. I'm not sure how countdowns work, really. And, you see, I would attempt to explain ICBC's graduated licencing program but it's not worth it. 1. It hardly makes any sense, and 2. I find it a little annoying (and, for the most part, ineffective). Suffice it to say that on May 17th, should I pass--which I will*--I will be able to drive without a supervisor in the car. And that seems pretty exciting.

At the moment, I'm feeling pretty good about it. I may be suffering from what chapter 4 of my book refers to as 'new driver overconfidence' but I'm okay with it. Apart from my present inability to steer the car backwards between two lines, I'm radiating competence. I can do the maneuvers. I shoulder check. I use my mirrors. I am aware of my space margins. I'm conscious of my speed. I obey signage. I stop in the correct position. I'm feeling prepared.

But I have three weeks to lose the calm facade and get it back again.

I feel like I should add something now, put a new spin on the 'learning to drive' rite of passage. But apart from feeling the habitual guilt of what could be seen as wasting gas, contributing to greenhouse gas emissions for the sole purpose of learning to operate a vehicle that may or may not be obsolete in coming decades due to exorbitant oil prices, I have nothing novel to add to the cacophony. So I'll just end it here.


* Note that this is not arrogance but a positive attitude.

The Musical Internet Wars and why we wage them (a list)

1. Relative anonymity makes us bolder. If you had a friend who hypothetically was madly in love with Moe and the Lawns*, you might feel uncomfortable telling that friend outright that they suck, even if you really felt that way, because society has taught us to spare the feelings of people we like even if it means sacrificing brutal honesty, so it's perfectly normal. Suppose, though, that this immense hatred builds as it is bottled inside you, and you need an outlet for it. You may go out and search for others who are of the same opinion. But that isn't nearly as fun or as satisfying. So you go on Youtube and attack the masses. Trying to take people you don't personally know down a peg is much nicer than insulting your IRL BFF, right? It doesn't even matter if you construct a logical argument! Awesome!

2. Our likes and dislikes make us different. And we pride ourselves on this, no matter what it may be. Being in the majority makes us all feel unimportant, if only slightly. But some people need to exercise and publicize their differences, as if expecting praise for them, be they 11 year old Beatles fans shunning the mainstream in their own small way**, or the teenager always in search of the indiest of indie fare. We're all hipsters at heart, the credo that popular = bad engrained in our heads.

3. Furthermore, people who like popular ("bad") music are brainless sheep, and we, of course, are intellectually superior to them. We must show them the error of their ways, 'tis only a service to the brainwashed pop music-listening community.

4. Thirdly, and most importantly, according to this credo, even people who like the same band we do like them wrong. They like them for superficial reasons, or like them only after having been exposed to them through some mainstream outlet, or don't like them as much as we do. All very, very wrong, indeed.

I've never understood the huge fuss people make over music. We all have likes and dislikes (see #2), but I'd venture to say everyone likes some kind of music. And the experience is the same: the urge to dance, sing, hum, smile. The feeling that certain lyrics are so applicable to our own lives and situations it's scary. Liking a certain melody for the simple fact that it sounds good. These things are universal, and no one has the right to harp on that.

Footnotes:

* Nerdfighter in-jokes, anyone?

** Nevermind that in their heyday the Beatles *were* 11-year-old-girl mainstream, and they don't particularly seem to be becoming less popular with time.

But nobody can win internet wars

Following in a sort of spin-off series from the vlogbrothers' (and most of the internet population's) hobby of typing something into Google and analyzing the 'suggested searches,' I've just spent a bit of time typing in letters in Youtube's search bar and clicking on the first suggestion. If you're curious, "A" suggests Someone Like You by Adele. I've never listened much to Adele -- for no particular reason; I know she's incredibly talented --but I scrolled through the comments on that video and came across a common phenomenon on the internet: the second most highly rated comment reads, "I love when people say gaga writes her own music. gaga writes SHIT music. Adele can write music! And she can write BEAUTIFUL songs!"

The first video under "B" is Lady Gaga's "Born this Way," funnily but not surprisingly enough, and one of the comments under it reads, "Am i the only one who realizes people judging other people on a songs about NOT judging people?! STOP HATING!" An encouraging statement, if a bit grammatically incorrect.

I don't intend to turn this into some sort of polarized "OMG Gaga's fans are so much nicer that obviously means Gaga is like so much better than Adele" blog. Firstly, every popular person has sane fans and rabid fans. Secondly, I don't think Adele is better than Gaga or vice versa because, thirdly and most importantly, I don't think there should even be a comparison between the two singers because their intentions and end results are so different. Gaga is as much a performer as she is a musician. I'm not saying she doesn't take pride in her music, but her everything from the Autotune on her songs to the outfits she wears are meant to stir interest and an intense sort of energy from her audience. Adele, I think, is almost completely focused on her actual music. She's not a performer, at least not in the way that Gaga is. So already there's no need to compare the two -- there isn't any competition between them. All the competition between them, and between pretty much every musician ever, is fabricated in the wild imaginations and furious fingers of their fans.

The real purpose of the above example is to raise the question of why we tend to feel so competitive about and so protective of our favorite musicians or writers or actors. Why do people deliberately go out of their internet-way to post a nasty comment on a video of an artist they hate? Sure, you can chalk it up to internet trolling to a certain extent, but this behavior transcends the internet and happens in real life as well. Mention Justin Beiber or Miley Cyrus in any decently crowded space and you're sure to get a solid round of borderline hateful jokes about them. Why? Seriously, why do people get so angry about mediocrity?

At least part of the reason seems to relate back to people's tendency to claim an artist as their own. Many people feel a little bit miffed when 'their' relatively unknown artist suddenly gets catapulted to stardom. "I'm a real fan!" they crow. "I knew them first! You're just hopping on the bandwagon! Dummy!" It's as though we all somehow seek recognition of our excellent eye for talent -- "We knew them before you did; we know real music." I think that in some ways the intense competition between the fans of artists follows the same vein of invented ownership. "I love this musician, so obviously this musician is the best." When somebody challenges that, it's like they're challenging us.

Or maybe we're all just jerks at heart. What do you think? I'd love to hear any alternative opinions.