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Is that a slide rule in your pocket or are you just happy to see me?
by Beaver State Chris

The defining characteristics of nerds are much more subtle and vindicating than the obvious ability to quote the Simpsons at length or talk like Yoda. One of the major strengths of being a nerd is that the public at large still thinks in antiquated visual imagery inspired by such pop-culture guano as Eugene from Grease and all three of the Revenge of the Nerds movies (not to diss the first one, which was a seminal work in many ways.) Nerd traits are defined by the fact that we have not survived and prospered in an evolutionary sense by being the kind of people who run corporations or order the bombing of third world nations (or engineer Puff Daddy albums, which is morally the equivalent of releasing the plague into Eastern Bloc orphanages) but by the fact that we were made more CUNNING and EVIL than our "fellow" humans. More to the point, we're better in bed.

While trying to narrow down the song-themes that define acceptable nerd rock (see: The Embarassment, Nerf Herder, The Hanson Bros., Servotron, and obviously Devo) I realized what really speaks to the reality of geek-dom instead of just underwriting the lies most people equate with dweebs is sex. We just kick ass in the sack. In the above-mentioned Revenge of the Nerds I, the most important scene in the movie is when the hottie cheerleader glories under the probing member of the head nerd, only to discover his identity after the fact (cleverly, he conceals himself with a big mask. If only real life were that easy.) When asked how he could be such a screaming love machine, he replies that "all jocks think about is sports. All we think about is sex." Testify! He speaks the Lord's own truth! The fact of the matter is nerds often feel that they have something to prove in bed, and blessed as we are with lightning-quick mental processes and catlike reflexes, we go about proving it as vigorously and sensuously as possible. An army of sweater-wearing and soulless techno-rock listening hosers sit tapping away at their computer keyboards, cruising for internet porn, all the while honing their sexual appetites to perfection. We casually glance at straight-A report cards and try in vain to successfully tune electric guitars while fantasizing about hapless classmates who are yet unspoiled virgins in terms of NERD SEX. In my mind, Nerd Sex should be placed in its own category. Oral sex, anal sex, vaginal sex, nerd sex. Real nerd sex can cause uninitiated humans into vivid hallucinations in which they think they're talking to Jesus. It can inspire great works of art and music...it can BREAK headboards off of stoutly-constructed beds. Nerd sex is very, very important stuff. While Freudian psychology has at this point been summarily dismissed as the confused ramblings of an ugly old man with a beard, it seems obvious that it's very basic premise was essentially correct: human psychology in general boils down to the pursuit of ass. Nerds are the top-secret elite commando units of said pursuit...our targets rarely realize what's going on until suddenly they've been nailed by a geek. They quickly convert.

Being a nerd is not so much a choice as a matter of destiny.

Like Conan in The Barbarian (as opposed to The Destroyer, a movie with half the balls and no soul compared to the former cinematic triumph), whose parents are slain by James Earl Jones and who is thus naturally destined to become a steroid-abusing, grunting neanderthal with a fuck-off big sword, nerds are marked from an early age with both the ability and ultimately the obligation to venture forth and shock the world with their superhuman sex-ninja powers (and fiddle around with algorithms or start funny bands.) Gentle reader, embrace who you are and let the world know the power of what you're packing.

Beaver State Chris plays baritone sax in a ska band called The Varicoasters when he's in Eugene. Right now though, he's in England. Lucky bastard.

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