Happy Dying Alone Day.

So hey, know what? Today is Geek Pride Day. Rock out with your cocks out, nerdboys.

In the midst of your celebratory Mountain Dew (or mead, if you’re an overachieving Society for Creative Anachronism dork like that), try not to think too hard on the part where this is also the day where it becomes official that you will die alone.

(Don’t think I’m happy about this. I’m going to die alone, too, and it’s your fucking fault.)

Let’s make this very clear: I love that you’re embracing who you are. It shows that, somewhere under the cosplay makeup and ThinkGeek shirts, you have the tiniest little scrap of self-awareness, and I respect that. I also want you guys to get the respect that you deserve from a world that has no trouble asking you to set up its wireless network but doesn’t actually treat you like a provider of worthwhile services. You guys deserve some props, so go on with your bad selves. Fight for your right to… well, not party. But whatever it is you do instead of party. LARP, maybe.

I love that you’re embracing who you are, and frankly, I do so love the geeks. You’re my first choice, my home team, my tribe, and you have my allegiance. Though you may consider the critical tone of this entire blog to be evidence to the contrary, I actually really like you guys. A lot. Because you were the fat kid in school, you had to learn quickly how to also be the funny kids, and so you’re sarcastic, and that caustic wit melts the icy parts of me every time. You are smart—there’s no arguing that. I have crushed on your intellect since we were building robots together on the Odyssey of the Mind team. Now as an adult, I’ve learned a dirty secret about myself: there’s a very thin margin between the point where I feel like you are my intellectual superior and therefore white-hot sexy, and the point where you make me feel stupid just because you had to push for complete dominance and PWNAGE in a conversation. If you can straddle that line and be smart but not a dickhead, you’ll have to scrape me off you and wash the sheets. You won’t be able to keep me out of your bed. THAT’s how much I like you guys.

I like you guys thiiiiiiiiis much. And I think you should get the respect that you deserve. Which is exactly why I’m so pissed off at you right now. We’re all going to die alone because you’re a complete social retard. How about you dwell on that while you celebrate Geek Pride Day. I bet you’re just so fucking proud of yourselves, huh?

Yes, in fact. You are. You have a manifesto, outlining your rights as a geek. It’s pretty swell. It’s not as swell as, say, this manifesto, because you’ll never be that cool. And it’s not as totally geeky as this manifesto either, because apparently even total weirdo asocial YOU knows that this is a bridge too far, but whatever. A manifesto is what you’ve got. Perhaps this was drafted on a first generation iPhone, but I like to imagine that it was written in Sharpie on the back of a Fry’s catalog. It lends some totally analog street cred to the whole manifesto thing, like it was your Declaration of Independence From Decent Society or something. Shall we examine?

1. The right to be even geekier.

Geekier than what? Than you are right now? Right this very moment? Geekier than Mr. T as the Night Elf Mohawk in the Warcraft commercials? Geekier than that kid in my 9^th grade science lab who smelled like pee and always had Cheeto dust on his shorts? By saying this, you’re already willing to accept that there’s a standard for what is and is not geeky, which means you’re willing to make a judgment on it, even as you get all assbroken about being judged for being geeky.

2. The right to not leave your house.

Umm. Okay. Didn’t know this was THAT big of a deal. I mean, I’m pretty sure you’re covered with the 3^rd, 4^th and 5^th amendments to the Constitution, but hey, if you felt like you needed to restate it in your totally legit 4chan manifesto thingie, that’s cool. Again, though. Everyone has the right not to leave their house. So long as it is actually their house. So long as they are not hoarding massive amounts of worthless shit and endangering those around them (and stop lying; you know you’re doing exactly that, and don’t get me started on your action figures). There does, however, come a point when the fire department has to cut the wall off the side of the house you had the right not to leave and hoist your big ass out with a forklift because you have now become one with your Barcalounger. And while that happens, your mom and sister stand in the yard and are fucking mortified for you because all the neighbors are staring, and they will now need therapy for this.

Yes. You had the right not to leave your house. You did not, however, have the right to cut off those who love you because the fantasy world you’ve created was more palatable than the one where bills need paying and baths need taking.

3. The right to not like football or any other sport.

Sure. No argument here. Bear in mind, though. The rest of us? We’re all pretty sure that Magic: The Gathering is as fucking ridiculously stupid as NASCAR.

4. The right to associate with other nerds.

BWAAAAHahahaha. Like you associate with anything else.

But no, really. Did this need saying? I mean, do you feel like the Big Bad Social World is trying to keep you guys apart? You invented the interwebs. Not like we could stop you if we wanted to. And furthermore, geeks en masse (unlike, say, Harajuku girls) are better than geeks in the singular. We want for you to be together with your own kind where you can run free and play in the fields and have fun. We want you to interact. No, really. Which is why this next one is so important…

5. The right to have few friends (or none at all).

Hmm. Now see here’s where it gets troublesome. Yeah, you’ve got the right, because goddammit this is ‘Merica. But having no friends is kind of like having no life. And I don’t mean no social life. I don’t mean no going out and drinking life. I mean no interaction, no conversation, no exchange of ideas. I’m talking about stagnation here, and yes, you have the right to be as friendless and insufferable as you like, at least concede that social stagnation is no better than intellectual or technological stagnation, and you wouldn’t tolerate either of those, would you?

6. The right to have as many geeky friends as you want.

Seriously? Didn’t we just establish this in #4? Fuck’s sake, guys. You’re so bad about repeating yourselves.

Thing is, though, that having geeky friends is all well and good, but you’re not entitled to get all high and whitey about how other people judge you unfairly when you make a conscious decision to avoid those who aren’t just like you. Yes, human relationships can be complicated, and they can make you not want to leave your house, and you can feel threatened or overwhelmed at the prospect of trusting other people and sharing your geeky pursuits with them. It’s what we do, though. It’s called human interaction for a reason. You are a social pack animal and it’s in your umwelt to behave as such. Stop fighting it and make friends, huh?

7. The right to be out of style.

Alright. I’ll give you this one. So long as you recognize that being out of fashion is, in reality, a fashion of its own. Even by subscribing to a subset of rights, you’ve outlined rules of geek behavior that make you a subculture designed to be exclusive. Just because it’s counterculture (of a sort) doesn’t make it any less of a clique. Your clique is no better than the clique of football jocks and motorcycle gangs, and you have adopted as your uniform the uniform that sets you apart from them. You are no better. You are also no worse. And in truth, you’re not that different. I know that’s hard to hear. Dry your eyes, special snowflakes. I know you’re one in a million, but that just means that there’s 6,800 other assholes just like you.

8. The right to be overweight and short-sighted.

Yep. And Flying Spaghetti Monster knows that there’s no bigger fan of fat acceptance than me, so I’m not about to give you shit for that, and really, what am I going to say about your eyesight? (While I’m at it, why are we bitching about the fat and short-sighted? What about the tall, the skinny, the hair-lipped? What about everyone in general who doesn’t conform to conventional beauty? hasn’t there been a complete push back against the standards for years? You’re not the only self-acceptance standard bearers, geeks. Get off the fucking cross because we need the wood.) I will, however, note here that though you have the right to be as fat and out of fashion as you like, you don’t actually have right to get laid, and that’s a problem. We want you to get laid. Listen to me when I tell you that I want to sleep with you. But I want you to take some basic measures regarding your own body before you share it with me. I need for you to recognize that this is the vessel that carries your geeky intellect around and you kind of need to take care of it.

9. The right to show off your geekiness.

Mmmm, yes please. Often. And I will watch. But remember that real guitar makes you a bigger hero than Guitar Hero ever will.

10. The right to take over the world.

Ah HAH. See, that’s what I’m getting at. All of these other inalienable rights you’ve outlined are all well and good, except they are completely counterintuitive and actually obstruct this one. Helloooo, McFly? You can’t actually take over the world if you’re not getting laid.

No, really. It’s THAT important. It’s how we reproduce as mammals. We make a friction and then a sea monkey blastocyst thingie is produced when your genes mix with a (presumably smart) girl’s genes and the cycle continues. And the cycle needs to continue, y’all. Not leaving your house, not making friends and not taking care of your body is not helping your cause for getting laid. There are basic standards for grooming and socialization that even geek girls require (ask me how I know, and yes I’m looking at you, dude who should be reminded that you have to brush your teeth more than “now and again”).

This is how you take over the world: You make babies. Very smart ones. You raise them well. You encourage their creativity. You eschew superstition in favor of the scientific method. You absolutely do not allow them to apologize for who they are, and you don’t condemn them if they’re not as geeky as you are, or even if they love football. You need to actively apply Moore’s Law to human intellect and help to raise a generation of people who are smarter and more adaptable than you are. It’s in your balls, boys. (Or, the balls of roughly 90% of you, because I’m not asking the homos to reproduce sexually. Let’s make that clear.)

Did you hear me? The future, the coming singularity, the cusp of human progress—it is in your balls.

Except it’s never going to see the light of day unless it’s fap fap fapped into a dishcloth, because you are not putting the effort into this that I need for you to. You can stay home and live in Gary Gygax’s world, or you can put on some sunglasses and come outside from time to time and live in the world where regular, normal, not-always-as-exciting-as-Ren-Faire stuff happens. You can choose to make yourself a pair of myopic steampunk airship captain’s goggles or you can buy a girl a drink. I know that stretching the bounds of what’s comfortable is terrifying, and guess what—that’s true for everyone. But if you want to take over the world—and I sincerely hope that you do—I need for you to dare to dream.

Remember that, as you’re celebrating your rights to be a complete asocial, maladjusted weirdo. Remember that though you have these rights, you also have the responsibility to try a little harder to learn some more about yourself. And remember that if you don’t, you’re going to die alone.

Which means I’m going to die alone. And that really pisses me off.