Folie à Dorks

"Should I choose a noble occupation
If I did I'd only show up late and
Sick, and they would stare at me with hatred
Plus my only natural talent's wasted
On my alcoholic friends"

Dresden Dolls - My Alcoholic Friends


I've been dropping in on the webcomic Weregeek now and then to see whether any creativity shines through its continued descent into lowest-common-denominator relationship plots. The current storyline about dating drama would point to no. However, the latest couple of pages caught my attention. The hero's asked by his shrink why he would be ashamed of having geeky hobbies when he enjoys them so much. We're treated to an image of his stereotypical sports-mad bad dad and the hero's sad face at the thought of being called a loser - then his wistfully happy face at remembering how all his LARPer friends commend his LARPing. Well, no shit they do. I don't doubt most people at Jonestown would have been perfectly willing to compliment the gastronomic virtues of cyanide as well. And, while LARPers' crossbows may be made of Nerf, there persists a mutually-reinforcing tyranny of consensus, an unsavory air of argumentum ad populum to seeking validation from fellow participants. You're not a plucky rebel or a martyr if you limit your sphere of interaction to those patting you on the back, if you narrow your world until the whole world sings your praises.

And hey, far be it from me to put down geeky pursuits. I spend as much time as I can immersed in video games and SciFi. Any hobby's virtues could be argued from a rational standpoint. Maybe it fills some atavistic need harmlessly instead of letting it sublimate, maybe it's more complex or proactive than merely sitting in front of the idiot box, maybe it's a way to challenge oneself intellectually or ethically, or immerse oneself in unfamiliar modes of thought thereby exercising mental flexibility, maybe simulated, rule-governed interactions are more honest than the alternative, maybe the escapism is necessary in this shithole of a world. Whatever. Unfortunately any subculture has the potential to preclude value judgments or the faculties of reason altogether and devolve into primitive tribalism. Goths, LARPers, furries, trekkies, bronies, juggalos, whatever the decade, whatever the fetish, once you've defined yourself as a brick in the opposite wall, then how appreciative are you really of the activity itself and how dependent on your fellow bricks, your social status props, the people clamping your endorphin drip?

Are you a social drinker?