Oh, if only the mid '80s could see us now! Truly, we are in the era of the supremacy of the nerds.
I'd like to thank Spider-Man and Sam Raimi for this moment.
It's probably partially true, actually, that the current strength of geekdom can be determined (in part) by the success of Spider-Man in 2002. Peter Jackson's version of The Lord of the Rings, which released in '01, '02, and '03 also played a crucial part. In a lot of ways, the zeitgeist rests on films and what preoccupies us as people. Whether or not my thesis is complete, it's true that those five films (including the second Spider-Man film) and minor hits like the X-Men movies all contributed to a groundswell of interest in the "geek" things of life. It's now hip to be a nerd.
Of course, this is a generalization. But having finished Day One of Salt Lake Comic Con--and looking forward to another couple days this weekend--it's clear that there's a large, enjoyable bubble of geek-themed pandering. I, for one, am happy to be a part of it.
I'm not a good enough capitalist to view the success of nerd culture as being indicated via economic relevance. The peril is that lucrative becomes tantamount to worthwhile, and though I'll happily play the Machiavel and claim that correlation when in a pinch, I find the argument empty. Yes, economic sustainability is necessary for geek culture to move forward--if the content creators can't afford to create content, then that's a problem--but there's a temptation to argue with dollar bills as to why things like Comic Con or the next Avengers movies "matter". They don't matter because they make billions of dollars--they matter because people like them.
Michael Bay's bloated spectacle-orgies Transformers have grossed nearly $4 billion dollars, met with critical derision, and have been seen by millions of people. The general consensus (for non-target demographic of 10 year old boys) is that these films are shiny schlock, hardly worth the energy it takes to watch them. Yet they continue to be made.* A similar, though now mostly dead franchise, would have to be the Twilight series, which spawned too much stuff to talk about. The point is, the consuming public doesn't pay for things that are good, they pay for things that they like. But the difference between quality and ubiquity is at the heart of what's going on for me within nerd culture.
I've always liked dragons, fantasy, roleplaying- and video games, anime, comic books, and action-filled movies. That's part of who I am. The fact that I can now enjoy that with so many other people is wonderful and delightful. To have, as it were, cultural cachet because of my interests is a refreshing change from what I saw in the world as a teenager. Back then, Hot Topic was the only place you could buy a Mario Bros. anything. Now, you can pick up a keychain with the fat plumber from a gas station. This ubiquity is fun, temporary, and ought to only underscore the fact that its popularity isn't where its value comes from. Finding satisfaction, enjoyment, and combined delight is what things like Comic Con are about. The fact that it provides funds for content creators is an added bonus that helps perpetuate it--but dwelling on the financial aspect of nerd culture is like mistaking the wheels of the car for the car itself: Crucial, but not definitional.
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* At the time I wrote this, this was the description on IMDB for the fifth Transformers installment:
I find that description fitting for basically all the Transformers movies, and I even liked a couple of them.
I'd like to thank Spider-Man and Sam Raimi for this moment.
It's probably partially true, actually, that the current strength of geekdom can be determined (in part) by the success of Spider-Man in 2002. Peter Jackson's version of The Lord of the Rings, which released in '01, '02, and '03 also played a crucial part. In a lot of ways, the zeitgeist rests on films and what preoccupies us as people. Whether or not my thesis is complete, it's true that those five films (including the second Spider-Man film) and minor hits like the X-Men movies all contributed to a groundswell of interest in the "geek" things of life. It's now hip to be a nerd.
Of course, this is a generalization. But having finished Day One of Salt Lake Comic Con--and looking forward to another couple days this weekend--it's clear that there's a large, enjoyable bubble of geek-themed pandering. I, for one, am happy to be a part of it.
I'm not a good enough capitalist to view the success of nerd culture as being indicated via economic relevance. The peril is that lucrative becomes tantamount to worthwhile, and though I'll happily play the Machiavel and claim that correlation when in a pinch, I find the argument empty. Yes, economic sustainability is necessary for geek culture to move forward--if the content creators can't afford to create content, then that's a problem--but there's a temptation to argue with dollar bills as to why things like Comic Con or the next Avengers movies "matter". They don't matter because they make billions of dollars--they matter because people like them.
Michael Bay's bloated spectacle-orgies Transformers have grossed nearly $4 billion dollars, met with critical derision, and have been seen by millions of people. The general consensus (for non-target demographic of 10 year old boys) is that these films are shiny schlock, hardly worth the energy it takes to watch them. Yet they continue to be made.* A similar, though now mostly dead franchise, would have to be the Twilight series, which spawned too much stuff to talk about. The point is, the consuming public doesn't pay for things that are good, they pay for things that they like. But the difference between quality and ubiquity is at the heart of what's going on for me within nerd culture.
I've always liked dragons, fantasy, roleplaying- and video games, anime, comic books, and action-filled movies. That's part of who I am. The fact that I can now enjoy that with so many other people is wonderful and delightful. To have, as it were, cultural cachet because of my interests is a refreshing change from what I saw in the world as a teenager. Back then, Hot Topic was the only place you could buy a Mario Bros. anything. Now, you can pick up a keychain with the fat plumber from a gas station. This ubiquity is fun, temporary, and ought to only underscore the fact that its popularity isn't where its value comes from. Finding satisfaction, enjoyment, and combined delight is what things like Comic Con are about. The fact that it provides funds for content creators is an added bonus that helps perpetuate it--but dwelling on the financial aspect of nerd culture is like mistaking the wheels of the car for the car itself: Crucial, but not definitional.
---
* At the time I wrote this, this was the description on IMDB for the fifth Transformers installment:
I find that description fitting for basically all the Transformers movies, and I even liked a couple of them.
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