How to Party Like a Geek

Two weeks ago, I hosted my first party ever.  I don't count bridal and baby showers I helped with, because that wasn't solo work.  Here's how it came about: I "recently" realized that the majority of my close friends are, like Ross and me, unashamedly geeky.  

There's Ryan, who knows more Doctor Who trivia than, I think, Steven Moffat himself.  There are my parents and their besties Lee and Shelly, who made Friday nights their double date nights for years - because that's when Stargate: SG-1 was on.  Oh, and their daughter Shannon, whose fashion sense would put her on par with any splashy comic book villainess or heroine.  There's also Ross's buddy Matt, who has taken on the heroic task of raising his three daughters to be geeky princesses, despite any good-natured intervention on the part of their non-geeky mom Jaime.  Not to mention, my new pal Emily, a quirky young artsy-type who refuses to let her son drink out of her Spiderman mug.

Other people have Superbowl parties, where they chow down on high-fat snacks and celebrate big, meaty guys punching each other around.  Some folks throw parties for awards shows, all the while sipping on frothy alcoholic beverages and making snarky comments about gowns, hair, and jewelry.  Why shouldn't I throw a bash celebrating all the things that, in the past, made me a social pariah?

Girl-cat squares off with Catwoman!

I sent out handmade invitations.  I spent hours researching to create the perfect trivia challenge, relying primarily on the Big Five: Star Trek, Star Wars, Lord of the Rings, Doctor Who, and a conglomeration of X-Men, Justice League and Avengers.  Yes, I realize that Harry Potter and Supernatural and about a million other franchises could have made their way into the mix as heavy hitters, but I considered my audience, and these were the fandoms that were most thoroughly represented among my nerdy kin. 

Totally retro. Photo cred: Emily G.

On the menu were Kryptonite Krunch (Chex Mix), Tribble Kibble (kettle corn), Iced SereniTea and Romulan Ale (blue Hawaiian Punch), Green Arrows and Black Canaries (celery sticks and pitted olives), T.A.R.D.I.P. (salsa con queso), Darth Taters (potato puffs), Obi-Wan Kielbasa (smoked sausage discs), Bowties Are Cool pasta and even chocolate-chip Wookiees.

I dressed as River Song, circa "Let's Kill Hitler" and sprayed my naturally curly hair into a huge hive of spoilers, and my husband donned his red captain's tunic (after polishing up his freshly shaved head).  

O Captain, my Captain!

I read the questions from my ThinkGeek T.A.R.D.I.S. journal as our guests observed our many geeky T-shirts, displayed as decoration.  Loki paraded her tiny little cat self around, getting into a bit of a tussle with Shannon, whose Catwoman costume might have intimidated her a bit.  Even Jaime, pregnant and dressed quite comfortably as a female version of Frodo Baggins, was pretty happy to win the doorprize - a Spiderman sippy bottle.

Loki lurves the Doctor.

Completition ramped up among the three carefully matched teams - The Terrible Tolkienators, the Raging Redshirts and the Kiss-My-Asgardians.  We learned that being a geek does not automatically mean that you've seen all the Star Wars movies.  We also learned that Emily does a beautiful whale impression, that most superhero themes sound alike, and that my dad didn't even need to wear the iconic orange hat for him to walk around the house scowling like Jayne, the hero of Canton.  We also learned that sweet Thor, despite his ultra-masculine name, is kind of a fraidy-cat and spend most of the party hiding.  He only appeared - as if freakishly on cue - when my dad and Emily were reading their hastily scribbled sci-fi story, about a race of catlike gods from the distant planet...Thorpiter.

The whole shebang - celebrate ALL the fandoms!

For one lovely evening, my house was full of heroes and villains, the whole Pond family, and one very photogenic little cat.  In retrospect, I think I would have made the trivia questions a little easier.  I also would have baked about three more batches of Darth Taters.

I got a request that our next batch have an 80's theme.  Which I can, like, totally handle.

Unless my dad shows up in legwarmers.

The Why of 'Who'

For 17 years, I have desperately wanted to be British. 

I picked up the dialect as a child while watching Mary Poppins.  For Dress-Up Day in seventh-grade, I chose to be Queen Elizabeth I (my mom had a heck of a time with the costume, but she eventually figured out how to make a ruff collar).  I was reading classic British literature when my peers were still gasping over Goosebumps mysteries.  I had already fashioned my opinions about Shakespeare, Dickens, Austen and Bronte years before my college courses prompted me to write about them.

But, alas, somehow I was born an American citizen, with a mongrel heritage mix of Italian, Belgian, German, Romanian, Slovakian, Yugoslavian, Granish, Czech, Polish, and half a dozen other eastern European nationalities thrown in for good measure (and excellent culinary skills).  I'm short, and pale, and a little overweight.  I'm a reader before almost anything else, and content to travel on adventures inside my head or on paper fare more than in actuality.  I am, you could say, more a Hobbit than anything else.

I am actually in no way resentful of my citizenship.  Trust me - I know there are far, far worse places I could have grown up.  I have received a good education and all kinds of other perks by being an American.  But, I admit, high quality entertainment has not been among them.  Not really.  Not for a long time.

My husband and I have not had cable since we were married nearly three years ago.  We've adapted quite well.  We use Netflix for the certain progams we like - though perhaps I should say programmes, because they're mostly British.  And mostly Doctor Who.

I was very reluctant to watch my first episode.  I know myself; I have an addictive personality (which explains the fourth cup of coffee in my hand as we speak) and I'm a Geek Girl through and through and, as mentioned above, I am a rabid anglophile.  Of course I would like Doctor Who.  Of course it would devour up all my free time, some of my work time, and a considerable amount of my subconscious as well.  After seeing so many references to it on Pinterest (my other "hold-out" hobby), I figured I should probably take a look. 

My favorite Doctor!

It took about, oh, 7 seconds after his appearance for Nine to become My Doctor.  I am pretty sure I watched four episodes that night.  My husband was working late and I was bored; I figured I'd give it a go after holding out so long.  I got all the way through the first season before I finally confessed that I had been watching a science fiction series without him.  He hopped on board right away and Ten became His Doctor.  He now walks around the house doing his very best David Tennant impression - which is not very believable since he's bald.  Charming, but not believable.

So, what it is about Doctor Who that is so appealing to us?  I'm sure that entertainment magazines and internet chat rooms have already spend countless hours poring over this question, but I am going to answer it from my viewpoint: the rare (almost extinct, I imagine!) Conservative Geek Girl Viewpoint.

It's strange that so many Christians in my life would fall passionately in love with a series that doesn't question the existence of God so much as flat-out deny it.  Or why we would so earnestly admire actors and writers who are confirmed atheists.  In fact, why are we - as people who accept that the divine hand of God created the heavens and earth, that his son Jesus died for our sins, and that that Holy Spirit dwells within all believers - such huge science fiction fans?

I think it's because we believe in a higher power that we're fans.  Science fiction teaches us that there is so much beyond our realm of comprehension that someone needs to come guide us along, show us the ropes, and encourage us.  That someone could be The Doctor...or a starship captain...or a mysterious wizard...

...Or God himself.

Science fiction teaches us, more than any other genre, that human beings are capable of great, amazing things - as well as horrible mistakes and acts of impressive evil.  That our minds are like fuses - once blown, a mass of conflict and challenges.  That our hearts have the capacity for love beyond time and beyond measure.  Beyond the constraints of logic.

The Bible teaches that, too.

"With God, all things are possible" sounds to me like the best sci-fi premise a person can imagine.  "All things."  As Christians, we usually reserve this comforting verse to encourage those who desire healing.  Or employment.  Or maybe help in finding a spouse or starting a family.  But, my goodness, how incredibly narrow-minded of us!  The One who made the stars can surely navigate them!

Who is to say that God - the real God, the Father, a member of the trinity and the Author and Finisher of our faith - can not exist in the same world as spaceships, lunar landings and forbidden planets?  I say that he must exist there!   That is not where I was headed today, yet it brings me back to the discussion of why we so adore Doctor Who. 



Everyone else's favorite Doctor
(but, yes, I love him, too!)

I think what we love so much about it - beyond the deliciously camp effects, the charming actors, the incredibly clever script, the devious plot twists and emotional resonance - is the churning compassion that makes up the greatest portion of the Doctor's thought process.  Although we continue to uncover his past scrap by scrap, we repeatedly see his deep, intrinsic love for others, and compassion that leads him frequently to sacrifice himself or what he cares about for the good of others.  He sees all life as precious - and proves it by offering mercy to his enemies and encouragement to his allies.  There is so  great a well of selfless love in him - and it is not innate.  It was born of grief, loss, and pain.  Yet such things did not twist him into a hermit or a miser.  They unplugged a well of nearly endless empathy and celebration that gushes out of him to the point of nearly drowning those he most treasures.  There is no criticism in him, only curiosity.  Admiration.  Love beyond the physical. 

How can we not love a character like that?  How can we not infinitely prefer him to "our" own media models of self-seeking housewives, airheaded co-eds, crooked father figures and doped-up high schoolers?  How can we not see just a glimpse of Christ's infinite compassion pouring out of this demi-god of a man?  Even if the writers and creators don't believe in a higher power at all, they have managed to build for us a man more Biblically Christ-like in many ways than the "Christ" we worship in our churches today.

There, that was bold.  I said it.

The Christ of scriptures was passionate, joyful, excited about everything.  He adored his friends - his "companions", you might say.  He was a teacher.  He desired his followers and friends to understand things on a deeper level.  Sometimes He was mysterious.  There was a lot about Him that others simply couldn't comprehend; the vastness of His mission was too huge for them.  He had an infintely strong sense of justice and yet showed mercy.   And, okay, yeah, I guess you could even say He "regenerated", if you want to go that far.

I think it's interesting that in our "Christian" nation, we don't have those kinds of heroes on television.  But in "atheist" Britain, they do.

Don't get me started on Sherlock.  That's a whole 'nother can of worms.  Awesome worms.  British worms.  But long-winded worms, nonetheless, and I have things to do today.

The Measure of a Man Is Not His Cheekbones

Recently, I mused on facebook why the "Geek" section of Pinterest hadn't already been changed to the Gallery of Tom Hiddleston, David Tennant and Benedict Cumberbatch.  Honestly.  Cheekbones, moody stares, dramatic coats and fantastic hair galore.  So little posted about Stargate, or X-Files, or Flash Gordon or  Star Trek: The Next Generation (other than those awesome Picard memes).

I don't know what happened, exactly, but somewhere along the line, society has confused fangirls and geek-girls.  Which is sort of embarrassing for me.  And this is a problem.

Allow me to explain. 

It's like the difference between a football fan and, say a Troy Polamalu fan.  You can like Troy without being a fan of the Steelers.  You can like Troy without being a fan of football at all, really.  You can just admire him, think he's attractive, or nice, or a great player, or whatever other reason that makes you like him.

But a football fan likes football, no matter who's which teams are playing, who is traded, or who's out for the season.  Football, to them, is football.  It's bigger than the sum of its players.

So it is with geek girls.  We like science fiction and/or fantasy because they're cool.  Personally, I liked the Avengers movie because the special effects were great, the exploration of the characters' relationships was satisfying, it was funny and exciting, the acting was super, the actors obviously cared about - even loved - their roles, and the fandom that has risen up around it is epic.  I love seeing the interviews and how the cast interacted off-screen.  I enjoy the BBC's Sherlock series because I am fascinated at the way they are reworking classic literature in a way that is not only palatable but riveting to a modern audience.  I am transfixed by the technology used.  I am loving the development of the characters.  The acting is beyond brilliant.  I am incredibly excited to see all of these actors take on new roles (The Hobbit, anyone?!)

Yes.  The actors playing the heroes - and villains - are obscenely good-looking human beings.  (I admit, though, I prefer short-ish blue-eyed bald guys - one in particular.  Call me old-fashioned.)  Giving them superpowers (or near superpowers) makes them even more attractive.  But this is the thing, people.  Being admirers of Loki, or Hawkeye, or Sherlock, or the actors playing them...this is the entirety of fangirl-ness.  It doesn't proceed past that!  A fangirl might further research an actor or role because she finds him (or her) sexy or interesting, and then post 3,422 pictures of said actor or character on Pinterest, but that's it. 

Being a fangirl without progressing to a geek-girlhood as well is like nibbling on nothing but a turkey leg while ignoring the whole decadent Thanksgiving spread before you.  A geek girl devours her prey whole.  Even the vegetables.  A turkey leg - even an, um, sexy one - doesn't ultimately give you everything you need.

A geek-girl can also be a fangirl.  But a fangirl isn't necessarily a geek-girl.  There's nothing wrong with a fangirl.  We need fangirls.  They are great.  They are fun.  They dream.  They are passionate. 

But I'll be darned the next time I hear a fangirl talk about how much she loves comics when the only Marvel characters she can name came directly from a recently released major motion picture.

And if she doesn't know Loki was once a woman.

Please.