Why geeks are in general better
I'm told that that this term geekdom refers to those possessing of deeply set interests in random topics. Look it up on urban dictionary if you don't believe me. Actually don't do that, it completely undermines my point, but that's not important now is it.
What does matter, is that geeks are in general better. For one thing, they tend to be literally better at things. Who wants to be around a bunch of people with only healthy interest in normal subjects. Did anyone ever compose great masterpieces without obsession, bring audiences to tears with a perfectly balanced life, or brand by sheer force of language ideas into our minds that will never be erased with only passing interest? Mozart - probably never left his study, Socrates - stared blankly off into space for hours - willingly accepted a death verdict for his ideas, Picasso - let's not even start.
On a more practical level, the geeks of the world, to me are just more interesting. I'll go into depth more on the subject another time, but suffice it to say that we can talk about ideas or we can talk about objects and things. Most conversations are the latter, and so many of these are the same. It doesn't matter whether we discuss Nascar, Wine and Cheese, or South Park if the same descriptive phrases and emotions are being expressed with only a swap of the nouns connecting their respective adjectives. Sure small talk can be jolly swell, but if you want to break the mold, the easiest way will almost always be to find some geek and ask them about their favorite subject. Unhealthy fascinations breed more than just 'book good, author good, prose good' and 'show good, joke good, surprise good' like none other.
Also - people being excited about their stuff contracts through a conversation like zombie bites in a crowded city. Sure we can spend our time kibitzing about the regulars, and listening to explanations of the same old things that have been repackaged and resold countless times so as to cast their teller in a fashionably positive light, but without genuine enthusiasm all of these stories feel hollow to me at least. I don't care what people talk about; I just want their eyes to light up and their smiles, their real honest grins, to let me know that they are interested. It's just less dull.
Take HDstarcraft. A guy who just loves video games posts commentaries on all things related to Starcraft II on a Youtube channel by that name. You can find it here if interested: http://www.youtube.com/user/hdstarcraft?blend=2&ob=4. A year ago, his videos were grossing maybe 1k hits each. About five months ago, the page exploded, and now everything he posts receives 100k+ views. Starcraft itself is hardly that interesting, and there are countless other pages much like his that have failed to become popular. I believe it is hardly content that brings viewers slobbering by the masses to his page, but his attitude. Even if you are not a Starcraft, or even video game fan, I recommend that you go watch a few minutes of one of his videos. It should be easy to tell that he is pleased to be commentating. His attitude reflects itself in more ways than just with a happy voice though; his attention to detail and general obsession for Starcraft lead him to spew forth gems of wisdom like some kind of free wisdom gem spewing super-geyser. Much of what he says takes on relevance to our shared struggles to improve and our mutual triumph in achievement. Concepts like this would never be communicated so honestly and so simply by anyone without a consuming, brain eating, unquenchable sense of geekdom like his.
I take from HDSC and all the other fanatics I have met of late that balance is overrated. We aren't breaking any new ground without rabid commitment, and we certainly are not spending the majority of our time doing what we enjoy without it. Everyone has some geek in them, and most nourish it to some extent. Do it more. Geeks are in general better.
Sunday, August 15, 2010
Saturday, August 14, 2010
Journal - August 14
Why Alaska Airlines is Blowing It
Today I took a two-part flight from San Francisco to Seattle, ran into a Whitman student in the bathroom of an airport in Oakland, met someone from Iowa, had an above average ham sandwich, and decided that Alaska Airlines is the devil.
Ok maybe that's an exaggeration, but how can they be forgiven for the woe that their airport lines sow?
There I was, early for my flight, bright-eyed for Seattle, ready to go through a short line and board my plane. To my side were Kiosks, unlabeled, which I chose to ignore as I had a bag to check. The line took surprisingly long, as periodically the two clerks managing the 40 waiting persons would shout out the name of a party, and that group would cut to the front and receive service. As I got to the very front, the line slowed even more. Hoards of people had their names called in turn behind me, and I continued to patiently wait. As even more were summoned, I would have been quite irritated were it not for the pretty girl just ahead in line who kept smiling at me in a pain-sharing sort of way.
This travesty of a queue continued as detailed for another 10 minutes before a clerk finally had the decency to look up and mention that they were calling the other parties because they had gotten their tickets at the kiosk.
My mild aggravation was as mighty as an average cow, deep as a pond, and fiery as bell peppers. How dare they!! Not only was there no official recognition of this system to let flyers know what they were missing out on, but the marginal time saved by electronic check-in was more than erased by having to wait for the called persons to hear their call, and awkwardly bustle through the entire line, cutting everyone.
I wanted to complain but didn't feel quite adamant enough to say anything. I wanted to throw my bags down in light disgust, but that would serve no purpose. I wanted to voice my disapproval, letting ring clear the resonating notes of truth and justice across that fetid swamp of ignorance and bureaucracy embodied in the clerk smirking before me, but that would create a small outcry. My voice was trapped by the non-severity of Alaska's transgression as was my body by their oppressive line-system. Alaska, let it be known that you, of all airlines, are doing it wrong.
Today I took a two-part flight from San Francisco to Seattle, ran into a Whitman student in the bathroom of an airport in Oakland, met someone from Iowa, had an above average ham sandwich, and decided that Alaska Airlines is the devil.
Ok maybe that's an exaggeration, but how can they be forgiven for the woe that their airport lines sow?
There I was, early for my flight, bright-eyed for Seattle, ready to go through a short line and board my plane. To my side were Kiosks, unlabeled, which I chose to ignore as I had a bag to check. The line took surprisingly long, as periodically the two clerks managing the 40 waiting persons would shout out the name of a party, and that group would cut to the front and receive service. As I got to the very front, the line slowed even more. Hoards of people had their names called in turn behind me, and I continued to patiently wait. As even more were summoned, I would have been quite irritated were it not for the pretty girl just ahead in line who kept smiling at me in a pain-sharing sort of way.
This travesty of a queue continued as detailed for another 10 minutes before a clerk finally had the decency to look up and mention that they were calling the other parties because they had gotten their tickets at the kiosk.
My mild aggravation was as mighty as an average cow, deep as a pond, and fiery as bell peppers. How dare they!! Not only was there no official recognition of this system to let flyers know what they were missing out on, but the marginal time saved by electronic check-in was more than erased by having to wait for the called persons to hear their call, and awkwardly bustle through the entire line, cutting everyone.
I wanted to complain but didn't feel quite adamant enough to say anything. I wanted to throw my bags down in light disgust, but that would serve no purpose. I wanted to voice my disapproval, letting ring clear the resonating notes of truth and justice across that fetid swamp of ignorance and bureaucracy embodied in the clerk smirking before me, but that would create a small outcry. My voice was trapped by the non-severity of Alaska's transgression as was my body by their oppressive line-system. Alaska, let it be known that you, of all airlines, are doing it wrong.
Friday, August 13, 2010
Journal - August 13
Oh my god. Summer is over. What the hell. That took what seemed to be a week. I fear deeply that as time goes by, this effect will accelerate. Maybe I will be dead in two more weeks.
When I was young, it seemed like a year was entire epochs of time. Each precious day spent running through the grass, exploring new wonders, and breathing the rushing thrill of childhood in the woods was a full aeon unto itself. Now I can groggily study and play video games in an uninterrupted routine for an entire summer without so much as blinking. What am I coming to?
I believe that this, as many problems are, is fundamentally a product of video games. When I am habitually gaming, the easiest thing imaginable is to finish whatever minimal commitments I have placed on myself, and immediately tear off to my comatose repose in cyber-land. In such a state, as I learned in a 30-day bed stay following surgery, I am content to lull for what so has so far been empirically found to be an unlimited amount of time. It's likely that hell would freeze over, pigs would fly, Bush would apologize, July would feature a cold day, and generally unlikely things would go about occurring willy-nilly before I grew tired of gaming.
So... that leads to the awkward question. If fiending on the internets makes time vanish, and if memories and the perception of time are all that we have to live for, is it better to simply enjoy the moment goggle-eyed and drooling behind a laptop screen somewhere, or to abandon something that I love doing in favor of the better things lying all around me?
In ten years I have not satisfactorily answered this question, and it would appear that neither have many of my peers.
Having preferred the side of passive submission to date, doing what was easy, in this case gaming, in preference to exertion, I honestly cannot speak knowledgeably of the other side. For this reason, willpower allowing, the coming semester will be an experiment for me. If you have a similar problem, many of the people who occasionally read this Blog do, consider trying this with me. Here's to effort, promises, and their successful upkeep.
When I was young, it seemed like a year was entire epochs of time. Each precious day spent running through the grass, exploring new wonders, and breathing the rushing thrill of childhood in the woods was a full aeon unto itself. Now I can groggily study and play video games in an uninterrupted routine for an entire summer without so much as blinking. What am I coming to?
I believe that this, as many problems are, is fundamentally a product of video games. When I am habitually gaming, the easiest thing imaginable is to finish whatever minimal commitments I have placed on myself, and immediately tear off to my comatose repose in cyber-land. In such a state, as I learned in a 30-day bed stay following surgery, I am content to lull for what so has so far been empirically found to be an unlimited amount of time. It's likely that hell would freeze over, pigs would fly, Bush would apologize, July would feature a cold day, and generally unlikely things would go about occurring willy-nilly before I grew tired of gaming.
So... that leads to the awkward question. If fiending on the internets makes time vanish, and if memories and the perception of time are all that we have to live for, is it better to simply enjoy the moment goggle-eyed and drooling behind a laptop screen somewhere, or to abandon something that I love doing in favor of the better things lying all around me?
In ten years I have not satisfactorily answered this question, and it would appear that neither have many of my peers.
Having preferred the side of passive submission to date, doing what was easy, in this case gaming, in preference to exertion, I honestly cannot speak knowledgeably of the other side. For this reason, willpower allowing, the coming semester will be an experiment for me. If you have a similar problem, many of the people who occasionally read this Blog do, consider trying this with me. Here's to effort, promises, and their successful upkeep.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)