There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to accept that they are a nerd.
It’s inevitable, like gravity or the financial success of a Marvel movie. Sooner or later, we have to welcome nerdiness into our lives.
“Not I,” a reader scoffs. “I don’t waste my time with dungeons or dragons. I don’t know the difference between a dwarf and an elf. I couldn’t tell you how to trek to a star or wage war with one. There’s no way I’m a nerd.”
It’s an understandable reaction. We’ve always defined nerdiness through a very narrow lens. When you hear the word “nerd,” you picture Steve Urkel (or perhaps The Big Bang Theory if you’re younger and have terrible taste in television).
“Nerd” conjures images of thick glasses, tucked-in shirts, and inhalers. Nerds are people who like fantasy books, sci-fi movies, and fictional languages, right?
Wrong. Well, I mean, nerds do like those things, but nerdiness is so much more than that. Everyone is a nerd for their biggest passion. Look at sports fans. They obsess over stats and players and mindless trivia. Sports fans are nerds.
The list goes on and on. Movie buffs, car enthusiasts, gym rats; all nerds in their own ways. We’re surrounded by nerds. Your best friends are nerds. Your loved ones are nerds. You’re a nerd.
I’ve tried to deny my nerdiness for years. I’ve always known I was an...obsessive type. I spent most of high school studying movies and books. I once detailed the plot of Game of Thrones to a group of friends while using white board illustrations. I acted in several musicals, which aren’t exactly the pinnacle of cool.
But I never fully accepted that I was a nerd, not until I saw Blockers.
Blockers, a comedy starring Leslie Mann and walking meme John Cena, is decent enough (you can read my review on yorktonthisweek.com). When I saw it in theatres, everyone laughed. I thought it was enjoyable, but something kept me from fully liking it: The editing.
I couldn’t help noticing the endless editing errors and flubs. Characters seemingly teleported between shots, changing positions without moving. Scenes would stop and start with no flow. It was a jumbled mess. It drove me crazy.
But I’m pretty sure I was the only one who noticed. Everyone else was too busy laughing. Sitting in that theatre, surrounded by laughter, staring at flaws only I could see, I finally accepted the truth: I’m a film nerd.
My nerdiness is so strong it derailed my enjoyment of an otherwise fine comedy. Nerdiness is a curse and a blessing.
It’s useless to deny our inner nerd. Embrace the Urkel.
