Congratulations nerds you’ve become mainstream! All that devotion to art previously considered childish has given geek culture its moment in the spotlight. Unfortunately, being in the spotlight illuminates horrible blemishes, *slowly strafing out of the spotlight. One of many corrosive zits on the xenomorph is the concept of the, “fake geek girl.” Misogyny is entrenched within geekdom, and though there are efforts to weed it out it is a constant battle.
Dear reader, I must confess that I am a fake geek guy. I only started reading comics a few years back. I was in college for an English degree (because I’m very impractical) and a class focusing on comics happened to meet my course requirements. Assuming it would be easier than a class on what white people wrote during the 17th century I enrolled. I hadn’t read comics since I was a child, when they were sold on spinner racks in drugstores (insert joke about being old). A friend of mine, a real geek guy, tried to get me to read comics and every time I would dismiss them as silly trifles. I ended up loving the class. Among the great books we read were: Incognegro by Mat Johnson and Warren Pleece, Watchmen by Alan Moore and Dave Gibbons andMaus by Art Spiegelman. However, the professor had female anatomy, so I know that I couldn’t have possibly learned anything. Now that I had a proper facade as a geek there was only one thing left to complete my great farce. Going to a comic convention for the purpose of attracting the attention of actual geeks.
(Pictured: me totally faking it with Saga fan art.)
My first con was C2E2 2013 (not related to R2D2). It was a learning experience. Here are my experiences from last year that might help other fake geek guys avoid being outed as a ersatz nerd.
Being born and raised in the epicenter of American alcoholism, the lush state of Wisconsin, I was hungry for my usual lunch, beer. It was early enough that the booze line was only about a 15 minute wait, which quadrupled an hour later. Due to a lack of shame about day drinking I ordered two overpriced beers, a C2E2 exclusive IPA which was decent, figuring double fisting was a clever way to avoid the lines. However, I quickly found out that walking through a crowd with two beers in flimsy cups was asking for disaster. Before I spilled my lunch on someone or some merchandise I maneuvered my way to the empty fringes of the convention. After I managed to reduce the spill probability to a minimum I returned to floor. Later I made a failed attempt at acquiring more beer as the wait was worse than a crowded DMV.
There are a number of lessons here. Conventions are not drinking focused. This isn’t like going to festival where one can spill most your beer dancing because everyone else is doing the same. Yet, if you must bring, your own booze and food cause those lines weren’t much better, or venture out to a restaurant. This year I will be driving, and because I’m trying to less of an ass I won’t be drinking (more than a beer).
Speaking of being a douche, one of the panels I was determined to see was the Chew panel (Rob Guillory and John Layman). In another failure of confidence I assumed I could find the panel in 10 minutes tops. I spent 15 minutes wandering like an idiot before I consulted a map, then jogged to the panel. I arrived panting with a coat of body odor. A woman by the door politely asked me if my intention was to disrupt the panel. With a glance there was an immediate understanding between the two of us; I was a jackass. I affirmed and she quietly opened the door. Once in the room I acted as if I was late for class and tip-toed my way to a seat. The two creators were discussing the hardships of being weird and making weird comics. The pair struck me as being two feral puppies in the world of comics; cute but will bite you (and find out your secrets) if they feel threatened. After explaining the long road they took getting Chew on the shelves they did a Q&A portion. I held back the question that was bouncing around my head, “Have you ever listened to the band Cibo Matto?” It was a dumb question, but it was all I could think of.
After a few questions I was growing concerned about time. At this time I was still steadfast in my refusal to buy a cellphone, and watches make me uncomfortable. Using my psychic abilities I determined it was about 4:50. My friends and I planned to meet at the Brian Posehn and the Comedy Mutants stand up show at 5:00. Without a thought of the two feral puppies still taking questions I got up and tip-toed back out of class. Unfortunately, I don’t have psychic powers, and neither does anyone else. It wasn’t until I arrived at the main hall that I realized how monumental of an ass I had been. The Ron Perlman panel was still in progress, and no offense to Mr. Perlman, but I didn’t have much interest in his stories. I felt the sting of being floppy nutsack at the Chew panel. I still feel that sting today, as Guillory and Layman are not at C2E2 this year and I can’t help but to feel responsible. Who’d want to return to after being nut slapped like that. If Layman or Guillory happen to read this, I want to apologize for being a walrus nut at your panel. If my egocentric assessment happens to be correct, I also want to apologize to any Chew fans going to this years C2E2. Sorry everyone, this is why I can’t have nice cannibal comics.
(To be continued…)
Modern Boredom 