This may come as a surprise to some of you, but I'm actually a bit of a geek.
I know, I know. For all of you out there who were picturing me as some sort of chiseled, golden haired, man's man who eats cows with his bare hands and reads poetry and is awesome with a screwdriver, this may come as quite the shock. I'll give you a moment to catch your breath. Or regain consciousness after you've fainted. One of the two.
You back with us? Good. Right, I suppose I better explain myself. While readers of this blog may be fooled in to thinking that somebody with this writing style must be a sheer force of nature when it comes to attracting potential mates, the truth is in real life I have the personality of a walnut. And, thanks to a poor diet and a lifetime of neurotic paranoia, I kind of look like one too. In short if you were on the hunt for a man and you saw me making eyes at you across a bar, chances are you would immediately reach for your stash of mace. And that's fine. I don't blame you. Hell if I was you and a fat, cave troll was hitting me with his best "Blue Steel", I'd do the exact same thing. No need to explain yourself. I get it. We're cool.
But to be honest with you that's part of the reason why I love being a geek. Not because all geeks are as horrendously unattractive as I am you understand. Instead the large majority of geeks are actually super hot in a shy kind of way. The truth is though a true geek doesn't care if, say, your nose is sprouting out from underneath your armpit. Especially if you delight in and celebrate the same sort of things they do. Seriously you could look like Joseph Merrick, but as long as your passionate about hot topics such as AvX (Gee Note: Sucks), The Dark Knight Rises (Gee Note: Also sucks), Prometheus (Gee Note: Really sucks), and Iron Man 3 (Gee Note: Doesn't suck), the geeking community will accept you with open arms. It's about embracing and appreciating who you are and being proud of what you enjoy. In short, it's all about love. Man.
Which is why the recent news of a fracas breaking out between Star Wars and Doctor Who fans at a sci-fi convention in Norwich has struck me as rather… odd.
You're familiar with Montagues and Capulets right? (Gee Note: Of course you are. You sexy, intelligent, go-getter you. Obviously you have impeccable taste. I mean, you're reading this blog after all. You're like some sort of cultural Unicron. Devouring as much awesomeness as you can. Except in a good and not evil way. Probably. I don't know. Look I don't mean to pry, but I assume the people reading this blog are nice, friendly, sweet-natured folks. Not some kind of megalomaniacal sociopath hell bent on world domination and being mean to cute things. Like puppies. And Sarah Michelle Gellar. What I'm saying is, you'd tell me if you were… you know… a bit of a dick wouldn't you? I'm not judging you, I'd just like to know is all. That way maybe I could put up some more content for you guys. Stuff like "Why harvesting Bigfoot's organs would be a boost to the local economy". And "UFOs, f***ing with hillbilly farmers since 1947". Things like that. Anyway, hit me up if that's your type of bag.) Well instead of the Montagues, imagine they were called "The Norwich Star Wars Club". And then imagine the Capulets were called "The Norwich Sci-Fi Club". And then replace Romeo with a bunch of Storm Troopers, Juliet with a dude with crazy eyes wearing a scarf, and set the whole thing in… er… Norwich. Before you know it, you've got yourself a powder keg waiting to explode (Gee Note: Or the new "outrageous" US sitcom coming soon to NBC. Starring Dennis Quaid. And someone else who needs work. Wesley Snipes probably. Homeboys gotta get that dolla dolla. Taxman be all up in his grill son. And he be like "Don't be a playa hater". But deep down, he knows he's the one in the wrong. He's complex like that is Wes).
According to BBC website, a convention was put together by The Norwich Star Wars Club, with special invitees Jeremy "Boba Fett" Bulloch and Graham "Him from The Bill. You know the one. No not Reg. The other one. Frank? Was his name Frank? No, I think Frank was the bald one wasn't he? Yeah, pretty sure he was. This is the dude that used to drive the car. Oh forget it. You'll know him when you see him" Cole. These two
When they arrived however members of The Norwich Star Wars Club were not overjoyed to see them. You see, there's been a wee bit of history between the two organisations (Gee Note: Although the article never explains what caused the friction in the first place. My guess is someone stole someone else's girlfriend/boyfriend/wife/husband. This is always how these things start. I've seen Dallas, I know the score here). And so one of the members of the Star Wars Club started to verbally abuse the Sci-Fi-ers. Harsh words were exchanged, an accusation of assault was thrown around, and before long the police were called.
Yep, you read that right. This got so out of hand the boys in blue were dispatched. To break up a potential fight between guys who really like spaceships and shit. Legit, these geeks were totally Godfathering up. It's completely mental if you think about it.
Thankfully, it never did quite come to blows. Says Jim 'The Anvil' Poole, “I was put in a police car. We were both interviewed by the police and told to stay away from each other, This wasn't a fight between Star Wars fans and Doctor Who fans with lightsabers and sonic screwdrivers drawn.” (Gee Note: Which is probably a good thing seeing as lightsabers and sonic screwdrivers aren't actually real. So at best you'd probably just end up hitting each other with plastic toys. The Battle of Little Bighorn it would not have been). In even better news The Anvil goes on to say “"It's a bit sad and pathetic. We're all in the same boat. We're not in competition. We'd like to extend the hand of friendship.”.
And I think I speak for all of us when I say that's a pretty healthy result. Because outside of giving journalists an excuse to come up with wacky headlines (Gee Note: “Darth Brawl” being a particular favourite of mine. Although it's a shame there were no Star Trek fans involved. I bet some hack somewhere has been itching to use “Beat me up, Scotty!” for years now), this whole episode is rather silly. You guys shouldn't be angry. You should be supporting each other. Do you know how many people think you're “weird”? Really do you? I have an extremely talented artist friend (Gee Note: Her name is Ana y'all. Check out her stuff here. In fact tell her I sent you. Unless you're going to be an arse about it. In which case, I don't know you, k?) who was behind a table at a recent comic con and the people next to her where making fun of cosplayers. At. A. Comic. Con. Now the reality is of course you're not weird. You're great. You truly are. But dammit Janet, this kind of bullshit really doesn't help. Not only that, it doesn't make a lick of sense.
Especially considering we're all one big family. You. Me. That strange fellow who lives at the end of the street and owns, like, fifteen cats. We're all related.
We share specific DNA traits that are completely unique to us. All of us do. Doesn't matter if you happen to be a middle aged postie or a young cage fighter. Each and every one of us is connected. Better yet, we're not from this planet. No really. We're aliens. Extra terrestrials. Freaky deaky spacemen from Mars.
(Gee Note: Yo. I just segued the bejesus out of that. Who da man? C'mon, who da man? That's right. Me. I'm da man.)
Or at least we are according to Vladimir I. shCherbak and Maxim A. Makukov, a physicist at the al-Farabi Kazakh National University of Kazakhstan and an astrobiologist at the Fesenkvo Astrophysical Institute respectively. In their peer reviewed paper (Gee Note: They ain't messing around here kids) 'Icarus', they claim that our genetic code has a hidden “signal”, and contains mathematical and semantic concepts that are simply not found in nature. Or as these boffins put it ,“simple arrangements of the code reveal an ensemble of arithmetical and ideographical patterns of symbolic language. Accurate and systematic, these underlying patterns appear as a product of precision logic and nontrivial computing.”.
(Gee Note: Well when you put it like that... I still have no f***ing idea what you are talking about.)
But even if that is true (Gee Note: And who's to say it isn't? Not me. The most intricate thing I deal with regularly is tying my own shoe laces), how can we be sure that it comes from another world? Say the plucky pair, “Once fixed, the code might stay unchanged over cosmological timescales; in fact, it is the most durable construct known. Therefore it represents an exceptionally reliable storage for an intelligent signature. Once the genome is appropriately rewritten the new code with a signature will stay frozen in the cell and its progeny, which might then be delivered through space and time”.
Yeah I'm lost. Thankfully some really smart people have written some articles about it and, truth is, that's helped me out a lot. Put simply, according to these two gentlemen of
The abstract symbol of zero.
Apparently (Gee Note: And it should be worth noting that along with being physically repulsive, I'm also as dumb as a bag full of novelty paper weights.As such it's taken way too long to put this together) this means that rather than just randomly occurring in the wild, the genome itself must have been designed. By aliens.
But God isn't as sexy as aliens so it was aliens.
Or David Icke was right all along and we're living in a hologram.
But David Icke is a bit of prat so it's totally aliens.
The point is this brothers and sisters. Next time your at a convention and you spot a “rival” there, take one moment to stop and think. You're a Star Wars fan. They're a Whovian. And who do they think they are? Liking something that isn't, in your opinion, as good as the thing you like. You should show them a bunch of fives, right?
But wait. There's a chance, an actual chance, that they might be the descendant of a stone cold Time Lord. A real, Tardis flying, Whomobile riding, wheeling dealing, genetic dispersing, Time Lord. How cool is that? That's pretty epic right? You've got to admit, you don't often see one of those sitting behind a table signing pictures for a fiver. So why don't you put down your fist and go and make friends. You never know, you may end up getting along.
After all, you're a tiny part Time Lord too.