Geek Theory: What Is A Geek?

In an effort to sustain my independence from chemical slavery, as well as to wash off the tolerance my body’s built against it, I’ve stopped drinking heavily caffeinated beverages for the last couple of weeks.

Thus my absolute and total lack of content during the relevant period. While a prior ideological conflict (hah, more like a piss fight) demonstrated adequately to me that my linguistic skills remain unaffected, the same cannot be said for my enthusiasm- and inspirations. Without stimulants, it would seem, I revert to a state of sluggish apathy. There’s no joy to life without the bean- at least, not during the period of withdrawal.

Evidence exists, however, that even the withdrawal’s starting to life. My mental equilibrium is returning, albeit slowly, and words are starting to flow from my fingertips again.

Will I return to the bean when I recover? Absolutely. The only thing better than normalized mental processes are enhanced mental processes. Besides, finals are coming up soon- I need every edge I can get.

The REAL FanimeCon 2008 Report

The train clattered across the tracks, guided by high-tension power wires. Somebody’s kid had pissed in this car some time ago- the acrid scent of it lingers yet, despite the powerful air conditioning. My shoulders ache under the weight of both messenger bags- one with this laptop that I write on, the other with assorted brickbracks, medication.. and an untouched, virgin case of Red Bull. Not my drink of choice, in fact, but it was the cheapest by volume available at the local Safeway.

Next year, I will plan ahead and order a supply of Bawls from Thinkgeek instead. Red Bull tastes like the Taiwanese drink brand Vitali- but filtered through the kidneys of a chronically drunk diabetic. Caffeinated Sprite, on the other hand, actually goes down well, with or without a chaser of strong spirits to make it worth it.

But that is not the present concern. I make idle chat to the couple behind me- the guy in the trademark forest-green cape and the dull-metal gray mask of Dr. Doom. It’s a neat costume, and comes with a simple, but impressively scaled, duct-tape bazooka. It is immediately obvious where they’re headed- and it’s my destination as well. As the train clatters on and the city of San Jose’s office buildings loom across our dirt-stained windows, the energy amongst the odder-looking occupants of the train steadily grows.

Light gray concrete, giant spheres of the same outlining a gushing, fountain. An abstract mural of polished red, black and blue tiles. And costumes, costumes everywhere. It’s like stepping into an alternate universe, once every year- an impromptu pageant of vibrant colors and impossible constructions, swords and batons and spiky hair; flowing robes and nosebleeding skirts; cardboard and styrofoam.

I breathe in, out, and the tension flows away.

I’m home again. FanimeCon’s in town.