bedrooms and IT departments, emerging only briefly, and usually under cover of night, to attend science fiction conventions and comic-book movies, after which they will quickly scurry back to their nests to tell the Internet how disappointing the experience was. Most Geek culture revolves around the theme of disappointment – it is how Geeks communicate and bond with other Geeks. Expressing disappointment with the world is a Geek’s way of reaffirming his place in it, that place being at the very top, although nobody ever seems to acknowledge that fact, which is disappointing. Indeed, Blokedom is in general a harsh place for a Geek, and other Blokes frequently treat Geeks with contempt whenever they encounter them. Scientists have determined that this is because they are jealous – although it should be noted that scientists are usually Geeks.
Due to the Geek’s habit of staying in his bunker for long periods without outside contact, until recently it was thought that Geeks hibernate. This theory was debunked when it was discovered that the apparently hibernating Geek specimens were in fact in Cheezel comas, and in need of urgent medical attention, which the researchers, in accordance with the ethic of non-intervention, did not provide.
If Geeks have a religion, it is knowledge, and the acquisition of knowledge is pursued with immense fervour by the Geek. Unfortunately, he also tends to disseminate that knowledge with equal fervour, to the extent that visitors to Geek-infested areas are often warned to be careful lest a Geek should catch them unawares and talk to them. Few people have escaped these encounters with their lives, and those who did came away knowing far too much about
Stargate
. If you ever see a sign depicting a pair of Vulcan ears, it means Geeks are in the vicinity and you should tread carefully.
Geek courting rituals are arcane, mysterious, but most of all embarrassing. Geneticists have hypothesised that Geeks are actually the result of a genetic-copying error, given that they combine an irrepressible desire for female contact, with a complete inability to get any. The Geek’s reliance on books, games, fan-fiction and detailed pencil sketches of Willow from
Buffy
can be explained by this congenital paradox: frustrated by his inexplicable inability to figure out how to talk to girls, the Geek pours his sexual energy into those he knows will never reject him – companions of paper, silicon, and, on occasion, collectible moulded plastic. This sad situation has spawned a major area of research known as ‘Geek Emancipation’, where dedicated scientists attempt to find a way to engineer the Geek gene so that supply (of attractiveness) matches demand (for ladies). This field has yet to progress very far, however, mostly because the researchers keep taking breaks to play Warcraft.
Despite their solitary ways, Geeks do tend to form tight-knit communities, even if those communities are usually virtual ones. Unlike other Bloke species, who tend towards competitiveness, Geeks are generally supportive of other Geeks and can usually be relied upon to rally round to support a brother Geek in his time of need, whether that be after he has vomited on an attractive woman’s feet, or after he has been apprehended for hacking into the Defence Department’s database. Geek solidarity is a powerful force, and makes it all the more difficult to learn about the intricacies of the Geek lifestyle; indeed, most Geeks are deeply suspicious of non-Geeks and tend to prefer to keep them out of their affairs, lest the non-Geeks find out what a role-playing game actually involves and make fun of them. In many ways, the Geek attitude to outsiders resembles that of a herd of musk ox, which will form a tight circle of fearsome outward-facing horns to repel any non-musk-oxen from attacking them. The smell is similar too.
Geeks’ personal habits can be confusing to the uninitiated observer. Capable of going days on end without