A short while ago, I saw a T-shirt featuring a quote from the annoyingly over-the-top sitcom The Big Bang Theory. It had one of the characters loudly proclaiming…

This is why I hate nerds.

I’ve heard this often-arrogant declaration from other anime freaks, and it’s equally as stupid and factually incorrect as the spouting of a fictional character. Guess what, dipshit: anime is a cartoon. “Cartoon” is merely the name of the medium, and anime is a subgenre within that medium. I’ve heard similar whining from rabid Star Wars fanboys about the current television series, The Clone Wars. In this case, the line is “It’s not a ‘cartoon,’ it’s an animated series!” It’s still the same damn thing, jackass!

More often than not, this kind of talk is used in order to elevate nerds’ interest in anime over those of the “common folk.” In fewer cases, it’s used as a defense against the use of “cartoon” as a perceived attack on their hobby. This is ridiculous, as the term “cartoon” is not a perjorative! Even if someone tries to use it as one, then the problem is with the person who said it in that context, not the term itself! If you do take offense when the term “cartoon” is applied to subgenres like anime, then you seriously need to get a fucking life.

Ironically, when these losers get arrogant and decry the term “cartoon” over that of anime, they are actually the ones being stereotypical, in that they’re claiming that their favorite subgenre is somehow “better” than other cartoons by default. What hypocritical nonsense!

This kind of synonymous bullshit affects plenty of other things in life: for example, coffeehouse clerks calling themselves “baristas.” You’re still a clerk, but there’s nothing wrong with that! I’ll likely write a future post eviscerating other ridiculous new terms for the same ol’ shit. Seriously, what’s next?

“It’s not a ‘movie’…it’s a film!”

Time to talk about another fucked-up television commercial! Sadly, I couldn’t find a video clip, but male readers may thank me: it’s about erectile dysfunction. Actually, there’s two commercials, both for the same anti-ED drug (I think it’s Cialis), but they share a common problem: a complete disconnection from reality.

The first ad shows a middle-aged couple painting a room in their new house. According the ad’s voiceover, the mood can strike at any time…but during housework? I try not to think about middle-aged or older people fucking. I figure if I have to think about it, then I’ll do so when I myself am middle-aged. But I can’t see myself getting aroused by performing chores. (If it gets that bad, shoot me.) Anyway, as the couple look knowingly at one another, the walls of the house start to peel back. The stack of cardboard boxes turns into a tree. The floor grows grass. All of a sudden, the couple’s in a forest!

What the fuck does that have to do with anything? And it’s not like they find a bed in the forest, or a blanket or anything else sex-related. No, they just start walking through it like a couple of happy hikers. The second ad’s much the same as the first, though this time, the couple is doing laundry before their basement morphs into a beachfront gazebo at sunset. But then…they sit down to a romantic dinner! Wait, what?! I thought these commercials were about fucking, not eating. Now I’m even more confused.

Anti-ED medicine ads are creepy enough as they are, especially since 99% of them seem to feature those couples sitting in separate bathtubs. I don’t understand that shit at all. But these recent ads, with dynamically reconfiguring environments? That makes even less sense! Is it because they air on the Syfy Channel or something?

Speaking of which, why are there so damned many of these ads on the Syfy Channel? Sure, older men watch science fiction, too…but I think that the bulk of the Syfy Channel’s audience is in the core demographic of eighteen- to thirty-four-year-olds. No one in that age group’s having trouble popping a boner, especially with the smokin’ hot women featured in Syfy’s programs. (Hello, Tricia Helfer!)

I’ve been seeing this commercial on television lately that drives me nuts. I know, that doesn’t exactly narrow it down, so let me be a little more specific. Here’s the ad in question:

What’s wrong with this picture? A few things. First of all, that girl’s what, eleven or twelve? Maybe thirteen? She’s more than old enough to go shopping in a friendly public place with her friends without a parent following them around. Why the fuck does her mother need a GPS-style locator at the fucking mall?! Cripes, woman, give your kid some goddamned space. A mall’s patrolled by security guards, if you’re that anal retentive about your kid’s safety. And furthermore, the voiceover claims that this situation is when locating family members “matters most.” Um, no. I’d think finding missing loved ones after a natural disaster would be a bit more important, wouldn’t you? This is part of a national obsession with overprotecting children, and it pisses me off to no end.

If you need a damned GPS to track your kids’ movements, then you shouldn’t be having kids in the first place. Your paranoia has reached the point where it’s eating itself. You know what an appropriate use of those locators is? Tagging criminals who are a flight risk. Cut the kids some slack. If you know anyone who indulges in this kind of ridiculous behavior, you’re legally obligated to kick their ass. (I also think they should be sterilized and have their current brood taken away from them, for their own sake. What? Too extreme?)

As far as this ad is concerned, I bet the kid grows up to be a crack whore due to mommy’s overprotectiveness. “I’ll show you!”

In light of my recent reversal on the Battlestar Galactica finale, a related thought struck me. When shows or other media like that come to an end, are they worth experiencing again even though all of the mysteries have been revealed, regardless of the ending?

I’m specifically talking about properties where little hints to the overall plot are slowly dropped over a number of years, and are the driving force behind the series’ appeal. This has become a big thing in television, with shows like Lost, Alias, Fringe, FlashForward, and the aforementioned BSG all being solidly built upon this foundation. In most cases, the viewer’s almost completely clueless up until the very end of the entire series.

“Even if the end of Lost sucks, I’ll still keep staring at you.”

Thus far, Lost has been excellent. However, I’m very apprehensive about the ending, because just like BSG did, Lost rose to very lofty heights in terms of story and acting. That means it has even further to fall if the ending turns out to be a colossal piece of shit. Furthermore, with stories that feature a grand mystery that slowly unfolds over the course of the series…if the ending sucks, then it retroactively affects the whole thing. It’s not like Star Trek, where shitty episodes can just stand alone and be forgotten in the grand scheme of things. (And there were plenty of shitty episodes!)

Even when this style of story has a great ending, it can be tough to enjoy it again when the mysterious conclusion is already known. For example, I have no interest in seeing the movie The Sixth Sense again. The twist ending was the focal point of the film, but once you know what that twist is, the movie just doesn’t hold up any more, in my opinion. This is not a dismissal of the film; if you haven’t seen it, you certainly should. Later films by the same creator — M. Night Shyamalan — followed the same template, but none were as powerful or effective as The Sixth Sense. (Well, maybe Unbreakable.)

It’s possible that this is the case because The Sixth Sense was just a film; it’s incredibly short compared to a television, novel, or comic book series. Speaking of which, we’ve seen this overreaching format hitting comic books left and right lately, and it’s actually getting annoying. Comics have had multi-issue storyarcs for quite some time, but over the past five years or so, almost every story from the major publishers is part of some gigantic background plot. And once that seems to be resolved, it only leads into the next big mystery. In other words, the mysteries never end! Sure, it might keep readers coming back, but closure is a good thing. If you want to do a massive, years-long story, that’s fine; but once it’s done, make like Monty Python and give us something completely different! (Manga and anime creators have been doing that for years, and quite successfully in most cases.) Even worse is that in a majority of cases, these big events continually retcon what has come before. Just about every “event” that DC Comics and Marvel Comics have published over the past five years or so has retconned colossal chunks of comic book history, so if you liked something in the past, it’s likely been excised from continuity by now. And that, my friends, is the same issue that applies to those secret-driven television shows.

Audience interaction time. What are your thoughts on the subject?

Surprise, people: I’m a hardcore science fiction fan.

I’ve been heavily invested in the genre ever since childhood, and I place 99% of the blame for this on my old man. (The other 1% was my natural childhood fascination with all things scientific.) You see, my father read a lot of science fiction novels when he was growing up, and when I was a kid, I rifled though his endless boxes of them. It was here that I learned about all of the classic science fiction writers. Science fiction television and film may be great, but anyone worth their salt knows that the absolute best in science fiction is always found in book form. (And given my disappointment with recent science fiction television, I’ve been delving even more into books lately.)

If it was in those boxes, I read it. I’m sure I’m forgetting quite a few, but just to rattle off some names: Ray Bradbury, Isaac Asimov, Poul Anderson, James P. Hogan, Robert Heinlein, Philip K. Dick, Arthur C. Clarke, Frederick Pohl, Ursula K. LeGuin, Larry Niven, Cordwainer Smith, Clifford D. Simak…seriously, just pick a legendary science fiction author, and I can guarantee that I’ve read at least a few of their books thanks to my father’s collection and the local libraries. My father was also responsible for introducing me to the Dune saga, and I’ve been [Maker] hooked ever since. My home library of Frank Herbert’s works now spans an entire shelf!

I’m telling you, I filled my head to the brim with that stuff, especially hard science fiction. It was so chock-full, it’s a wonder I was able to process other more important items, like schoolwork, eating, and breathing. Even my favorite comic book characters, like Green Lantern, Iron Man, Firestorm, and Adam Strange are all completely based in the realm of science fiction! When I was a kid, no one else was into the genre, but that didn’t really register; in retrospect, I suppose it made sense that the other kids were more interested in sports and video games than a bunch of dusty old books.

I’ve kept up on my passion for science fiction throughout my entire life. I enjoy a wide variety of science fiction television, film, and other media. I’ve also gotten into the “new breed” of science fiction writers over the years, like Neal Stephenson and Timothy Zahn, as well as picking up novels by classic authors that I missed, such as E. E. “Doc” Smith’s Lensman series and the works of Richard Matheson.

Nowadays, science fiction is arguably more popular then ever, primarily in the film and television realms. Regardless, I find myself standing apart from my peers when it comes to the span of my familiarity with the genre. This is not a holier-than-thou proclamation, simply a statement of fact. I’ve just noticed that most of my peers aren’t into science fiction to begin with, and the ones that do enjoy the genre rarely (if ever) explore the breadth of the material out there, especially its written form. (The latter certainly isn’t their fault, as most people don’t read for pleasure these days as it is!) This unfamiliarity can be personally frustrating, as when I try to have engage in conversation about much of this stuff, I get blank stares.

I don’t understand why someone would refer to themselves as a fan of a genre when they have very little experience with it, or sometimes refuse to experience anything but a few small pieces. To use a non-fandom example, it would be like someone who’s read a medical textbook calling themselves a doctor. Now, this is different than being a fan of a specific property within a genre, or even a subgenre. There’s fans of the Star Trek film that came out last year, but who do not consider themselves fans of the Star Trek franchise in general. I’m also not trying to say that any self-proclaimed science fiction should check out and enjoy every new bit of genre material that comes along, either. We all know that like any other genre of fiction, there’s an extreme amount of absolute shit when it comes to science fiction.

Obviously, other hardcore science fiction fans do exist out there, and the Internet would provide the best way to connect with them. However, as with most things, I’m very reluctant to join Internet forums and the like devoted to science fiction. Intelligent discussion I can handle; fanboyism and nerd debates I can not. As we know, that’s what a majority of message board topics devolve into, so I tend to stay the hell out. Another idea would be science fiction conventions, but those can be very scary places. There’s not much left after that, but I’ve gotten along just fine so far, so I’ll just have continue forging the path alone.