Objection! Girls Can Be Geeks, Too!

Joe Peacock really ruffles my feathers. You may have already had the misfortune of reading Peacock’s newest tirade against what he calls “geek posers”. This newest installment is specifically against those geeks who just happen to be female. In it, he claims that attractive girls who cosplay or wear “geeky” attire at Cons are “poachers.” He claims these poachers are women who resort to wearing skimpy outfits because they are incapable of finding companionship outside of the legions of mouth-breathing, desperate nerds. The outfits, according to Peacock, supposedly make these women feel better about themselves and impress the basement-dwellers at the Cons.

Wait, back up. How exactly can he make this argument, anyways?

The Clubhouse

Let’s start with what we know about Joe Peacock’s stance on the matter generally. Joe has already made his views clear on how he believes the geek community should be regulated in previous articles. Mr. Peacock has this belief that, if you now become interested in the geek community or its myriad topics, you must be a “poser”.  For Peacock, this is doubly-true if you are an attractive woman, since you’re here just to boost your self-esteem (more on this later).

See, according to Joe Peacock, if you weren’t in the clubhouse already, you must only be in it now for the popularity contest, because you had ample opportunity to get in before it became cool, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to do it.

I contend that this is just factually incorrect. Geeky pursuits of all varieties have had varying (but mostly low) levels of public exposure for a long time, and much of it has been negative. Sure, people outside the “inner circle” knew about these pursuits–but were they actually exposed to them?

Let’s also not forget that everyone has to come to this community somehow. I am lucky in that my Dad made me watch Star Wars as soon as I was old enough to understand the plot, but that doesn’t make me a better geek than someone who watches Star Wars for the first time today and throws themselves into it–it just makes me an older geek. Why is it less legitimate for someone to come to enjoy geeky pursuits now?

The insistence of people like Joe Peacock on holding aloft their geek credentials like some kind of rallying point is troubling. When did this community become a clubhouse, anyways? We should be welcoming new minds and hearts to our geeky pursuits of choice, not discounting them based on timing or gender, as Joe would have us do.

We can’t exclude people based on their gender, physical appearance, or their relatively new arrival to the community. What we should be doing is encouraging new geeks, not trying to shut them out of our clubhouse. Joe does state that he is willing to teach the “posers”, and I believe that what we’re seeing from him is likely a genuine love for “geek culture”, or whatever you want to call it. He states:

“‘Geek’ is what happens when passion overrides your need to be accepted or fit in. It’s loving something so much that you throw yourself wholeheartedly into it.”

This is an interesting (if somewhat poetic) description. The sad part is that Joe feels that he is able to both define the parameters as to what constitutes a “real” geek and also to decide who fits this description ahead of time, thus regulating the whole community. The argument he presents is basically “if you’re not as passionate as me, you must not be a real geek.”

The Poachers

Specifically, he shows us his lurking fear of geek girls.

I give Peacock credit for identifying the entertainment industry’s increasingly common attempts to reach the geek demographic, but this fact does not an argument make (or at least not this one). Is the entertainment industry trying to introduce more geek-friendly programming and icons (including female icons)? Sure they are: they see it can make them money. Love it or hate it, that’s how capitalism works.

But Peacock takes this and runs too far with it. Does this mean that the attractive girl in the Cammy outfit is only at the Con because she has low self-esteem and wants to be idolized by nerds? No, that is a leap even Mario would have trouble making.

Yet here Joe finds himself:

“I get sick of wannabes who couldn’t make it as car show eye candy slapping on a Batman shirt and strutting around comic book conventions instead.

I’m talking about an attention addict trying to satisfy her ego and feel pretty by infiltrating a community to seek the attention of guys she wouldn’t give the time of day on the street.”

Joe tries to soften this blow by stating beforehand that he knows beautiful geek girls who are “bona fide geeks.” That’s great Joe, really great. Couldn’t you consider that the girls you dismiss offhandedly as being “attention addicts” could also be legitimate geeks? Why is that so difficult for you to believe, and what gives you the right to act as ultimate arbiter over the status of any geek girl you see at a Con that you don’t personally know?

Why does anyone have to prove anything to you?

I am not a champion of the cosplay community, so I allow for the possibility that this kind of person could exist. Even so, you cannot pre-judge someone based solely on their appearance. Even if you positively ascertained that someone is a “poacher” by talking with them (again, this is a stretch and no one is obligated to prove anything to you), wouldn’t it be better to try to show them the joy that is our hobby rather than kick them to the curb? And ultimately, even if they were one of these mythical “poachers”, what harm have they done to you? Matt Dukes (@direflail) of Critical Hits echoes my sentiments on Twitter:

Joe does betray some of his feelings on the topic by using the word “Infiltrating,” though. He seemingly views geek girls as invaders or outsiders. What damage they are doing to him, or even to the community at large, is not elaborated upon with any amount of clarity:

“They’re poachers. They’re a pox on our culture. As a guy, I find it repugnant that, due to my interests in comic books, sci-fi, fantasy and role playing games, video games and toys, I am supposed to feel honored that a pretty girl is in my presence. It’s insulting.”

I can’t speak for Joe or anyone else, but not once have I ever been at a Con where an attractive woman in a costume walked up to me and demanded that I feel honored in her presence. Of course, no one is actually insulting Joe–he’s just threatened or maybe confused by the fact that an attractive woman at a Con might actually enjoy the same things as him. I don’t know why this is difficult for him to believe. Anyone can be a geek.

Perhaps even more disturbing is that Joe equates these women with Olivia Munn immediately afterwards, claiming they have no investment in the culture. Reality check: regardless of your personal thoughts or feelings on Olivia Munn, she was being paid by organizations with a vested interest in expanding the types of viewers they could attract. You can argue whatever you want about Olivia Munn, but an attractive woman cosplaying at a Con does not have anything in common with her besides her gender, as far as you know.

And I can’t help but feel that this is part of Joe’s real issue.

Though he gives props to Felicia Day and allows for the existence of “real” attractive geek girls, it seems like he is unwilling to implement these beliefs at the ground level. To him, these new attractive geek girls are poachers, until proven otherwise. He’s already counted them out. But then, he ironically goes on to claim that he is not the one objectifying women:

“However, you “6 of 9s” out there? You’re just gross. There’s an entire contingent of guys in geekdom who absolutely love you, because inside, they’re 13 year old boys who like to objectify women and see them as nothing more than butts and a pair of boobs to be leered at. Have fun with them, and don’t be shocked when they send you XBox Live messages with ASCII penises.

Those of us who actually like substance? We’ll be over here celebrating great comics, great games, great art, great movies and great television, because we’re actually attracted to a completely different body part: the brain.”

Honestly, it was a shame that this section was left until the end of Joe’s piece, because if he had put this at the beginning of the post, it would have been better for everyone involved. Joe has excluded these women and reduced them to nothing but “butts and boobs” by dismissing them as poachers without allowing them the possibility to just be attractive geeks. Perhaps my favourite and most telling reply to the article came via Twitter, from Felicia Day (@feliciaday):

Inclusivity is what the geek community needs, and what will make the community a stronger and better place to share all our geeky joys. Any man or woman can be a geek. No one person has sufficient geek cred to pretend like they get to decide that.

Unfortunately, inclusivity is the one thing that Joe–and people like him–are not willing to compromise on. They’re too busy deciding who the “real” geeks are.

Have something to say about the state of modern geekdom? Sound off in the comments!

[Guest Post] – 1980s Horror Films: Better Than You Remember?

It may be regarded as the decade that fashion forgot but the 1980s had a remarkable array of films. Even in the horror genre, this decade provided a futile ground for innovative and groundbreaking ideas. Now, you may be thinking that the 1980s was simply a collection of ‘slasher’ films. That Freddy Krueger and Jason Voorhees reigned supreme in an ever-growing collection of repetitive, violent outings.

However, I like to think that there was far more than that in the field of film horror. I believe that some really great examples of the genre came from a place that dared to use a combination of imagination, special effects and even humour (black , of course) to achieve its goals.

The Fog (1980) was a nice lead into the decade with its sombre ghost story and use of the ‘less is more’ technique that John Carpenter honed with Halloween in the 70s. However, special effects had advanced quite a bit since then, with An American Werewolf in London (1981) and The Thing (1982) proving that showing everything could be just as horrific. Creepshow (1982) and Fright Night (1985) took advantage of special effects, but also blended genuine dark comedy to create unique outings that are both quite frightening in parts but tongue in cheek when appropriate.

 Similarly, Re-Animator (1985) and Return of The Living Dead (1985) took the ‘mad scientist/zombie’ horror tropes and combined them to make gory outings that also remain humourous and disgusting in equal measure.

Vampires were given an MTV-influenced injection with The Lost Boys (1987), creating monsters that were recognizable by the teen-heavy audience through their music and dress sense.

Another great example of unique horror focused on the body as a tool for pain and revulsion in a way slasher films might not have thought possible. The Fly (1986) and Hellraiser (1987) are definitely two effective examples of using the body as a jumping off point for horrific consequences.

Horror in that period might be predominately known as the era of razor gloves and hockey masks, but it also brought a few unique things along for the ride too. Just make sure you check those out before writing the 1980s off. And don’t forget the soundtracks too. 80s horror soundtracks are amongst the best.

Images courtesy of  scarymoviemania.blogspot.com and theaceblackblog.com, respectively.

Halit Bozdogan is a writer for Appliances Online during the day. He loves films and thinks 3 of the best soundtracks ever are from 80s horror: Return of the Living Dead, Fright Night, and The Lost Boys.

High Concept vs. High Character

When you’re reading a story, watching a movie, or picking a new TV series to obsess over, which do you care about more–that the premise is new and interesting or that the characters are believable and interesting?

I recently had a discussion with my wife about this because while watching Doctor Who with my dad, I had one of those whizz-bang ideas that just won’t leave you alone. I pulled out my iPhone and started making notes immediately. The idea was too good to lose.

So I went home, handed the notes to my wife, and told her, “tell me what you think.” I was beaming. I was so proud of myself.

Her response was simple: “Meh. Who is it about?”

I was dumbfounded. I had no idea. To me, it didn’t matter who it was about. The whole point was the idea itself. It was a fantastic idea. It was high concept, something that had the potential to blend genre and literary fiction. The who could come later.

Just not for Jennifer. She couldn’t care less about the idea. High concept or not, there was no one to relate to, so she wasn’t interested.

That got me to thinking: which is more important? As a writer, do I need to focus more on the people these stories are about than the premise of the stories I’m writing? Is one better than the other?

No, one isn’t better than the other. A good story is a good story is a good story. But there are specific elements that comprise a good story, and finding that balance is important.

Tobias Buckell has that down pat. He says that there are two things a writer should remember when putting together a short story: “What’s the fucking point?” and “a short story is often said to be about the most important day of a character’s life.”

When broken down, one is high concept while the other is high character.

High Concept

Ideas are easy. Every writer has a thousand ideas, and every reader thinks he or she has a thousand better ones. Most of those two thousand ideas are crap–rehashed, recycled, cliches, blah blah blah.

But once in a blue moon, you have an idea that’s fresh and interesting, that does something new you’ve never thought of. Old Man’s War by John Scalzi is high concept: 75 year old men and women are recruited for the army to fight in an intergalactic war for territory. “That Leviathan, Whom Thou Has Made” is high concept: Mormon space whales living in the sun. ‘Nuff said.

In these stories, there are obviously characters. But the characters are not the point. The characters, while three-dimensional and real, are not the focus of the story. They are facilitators of the story. They are motivated and pushed through the narrative so that readers get a full view and explanation of the concept at its core.

Coming up with a high concept idea is one thing. Writing it well and making it salable is something else. Short stories and novels aren’t just ideas. They can start that way, but without a rounded narrative, they are empty.

There are millions of desk-drawer high concept novels out there just because the writers couldn’t figure out how to put a beginning, middle, and an end to it. If you’ve got a high concept idea, be sure that you flesh it out, that you make sure it has some meaning.

Take your fantastic idea, and if you can’t answer “What’s the fucking point?” then you should probably keep it stewing for a while until you can.

High Character

On the other hand, sometimes you have the idea for a character and have nowhere to stick her. You have this kick-ass heroine who battles ogres by night and is a world-class tennis champion by day. You have a backstory for her, and you know every detail about why she is the way she is.

But you’ve got no real story other than that. You don’t have the day-to-day life of this person.  You don’t have a situation in which her tennis skills will help her in her crusade against the ogres.  You just know that she’s awesome.

That’s what high character novels and stories are about.  That’s how you can write a story and let the reader see, as Buckell put it, “the most important day of that character’s life.”  That day might be just another day for you and me. We might stroll idly past the ogre-filled brothel none the wiser, but your heroine…no, she goes in there, slaughters some ogres-of-the-night, and comes out an entirely different person.

The events in-between don’t matter. Just her evolution and character arc because we see her going from Point A to Point Z.

There are a lot of examples of high character works out there. Harry Potter is a prime example. Sure, the school of witchcraft and wizardry is cool, but those kinds of books are honestly a dime a dozen. What keeps us reading those books then? To find out what happens to Harry, Hermione, and Ron! That’s what!

Even TV has its high character forays. Take ABC’s Castle for instance. As much as I love the show, the procedural aspect of the series is nothing we haven’t seen before. However, because of who Rick Castle is–a NYT bestelling author with a daugher and live-in, actress mother–I watch the show every week.  The whodunnit aspect of the show is good enough, but the real draw of the show is Richard Castle himself.

In the end…

In the end, though, there’s nothing saying that you can’t have a novel or a movie or a show that has a fantastically awesome premise and a fantastically interesting character to go along with it.  Just more often than not, it’s one or the other.

Do you have a preference for one over the other? Are you more interested in the premise of a text, or the people it’s about?

Dragons Flights and Sacrifice: A Tribute to Hermione Granger

The following is a guest post by my lovely wife Jennifer, who reminds me of Hermione in more than a few ways (which is a good thing!).  She even has her own Hogwart’s textbook, Marauder’s Map, and butterbeer mug.

Hermione Granger - Deathly Hallows Part 2Like every other woman who went through school with frizzy hair and the label of “the smart girl,” I identify strongly with the character of Hermione Granger. I have no illusions about how clichéd this is. I know it’s about as original as every non-Republican professional woman with glasses believing herself to be the one real-life Liz Lemon (I had this moment about 10,000 times while reading Bossypants).

Cliché or not, Hermione is still often my touchstone in the Harry Potter books and films. Another aspect of this connection is that, at every point when I’ve read the books or watched the movies, I have always been older than Hermione. I think a lot of older Potter fans have a feeling of pride when we see how well the three actors have grown up. I feel the same way about Hermione’s character. Even though I see parts of myself in her, I also have a sense of big-sister pride at the fact that she is stronger and more courageous than I have ever been.

And man-oh-man, does Deathly Hallows Part 2 give me plenty to be proud of.

First of all, I believe that DH2 is fantastically successful as an adaptation and, more importantly, a film. I can’t say yet whether it’s the best of the series, but I think it may be. I also think it has a chance at being the only one of the movies whose success as a film exceeds the book’s success as a novel. It’s much, much too early to say, though.

But I want to talk about the two Hermione moments in the film that made me love my girl even more.

1. Hermione jumps on a dragon.

Pretty self-explanatory. The Gringotts scene may be the best action sequence in the whole series. It combines whimsical effects (the magical reproduction of Bellatrix’s treasure), plot-driven suspense (they have to get that horcrux), our three leads in danger, and a daring escape via dragon flight. I also loved the quick nod to Hermione’s compassion for enslaved magical creatures (mostly left out of the films) with the pained look she gives upon seeing the tortured dragon.

When escape seems impossible, Harry and Ron look to Hermione for a plan. She says she has one, but that it’s “crazy.”

She then proceeds to leap onto the back of a crazed, fire-breathing dragon.

There’s a concept that comes up over and over in many feminist analyses of pop culture: the idea of agency. In looking at agency in this context, scholars examine whether female characters actively participate in the world—that is, whether they initiate behaviors and actions that have tangible results. A lot of times, the underlying passivity of female characters is masked by their sassy personality, but when you examine their behavior, they actually only act in response to the actions of male characters. They don’t initiate.

But my Hermione says “I have an idea” and jumps onto a dragon to save herself, her friends, and—ultimately—the world. Beej will tell you that a huge, proud grin broke out on my face as I said (quietly, of course) “Good girl!”

2. “I’ll go with you.”

The internet is flooded with lists of tear-worthy moments in DH2, so I won’t list mine, but I will say that this line was the most poignant teary moment for me. Harry tells his two best friends that he is going into the woods to let Voldemort kill him, and Hermione’s immediate response is to offer a teary—but determined—“I’ll go with you.”

Now, this is different from all the other times that Hermione has insisted on coming along because, usually, Harry needs her smarts and her spells to help navigate the situation. But this time, there isn’t anything for Hermione to help with. There’s no hope for a daring last-minute escape, no chance of somehow defeating Voldemort. She knows that Harry’s death is necessary and that she’s not going to talk him out of it. So when she says, “I’ll go with you,” she’s just a young woman who is willing to die to keep her best friend from dying alone. Not to stop him from dying, mind you, but just to stand by his side as she always has.

I’m sure there are other moments in pop culture that portray such remarkable friendship, but they are certainly rare. It’s also remarkable that the same character who breaks traditional feminine roles by leaping onto a dragon also embodies the very best of that traditional role with her nurturing selflessness.

Of course, Hermione’s devotion to Harry brings up one question for some fans: Why does she end up with Ron instead? I always kind of went with the flow on the central romance, and I’m a little ambivalent about the message Rowling sends about love and relationships. On the one hand, it does annoy me a bit that she reinforces the “type of person you’d be best friends with” vs. “type of person you should fall in love with” dichotomy. Too often in pop culture, these are presented as opposing personality types when, I would think, they should at least be very closely related. Beej and I were friends for two years before we started dating.

On the other hand, I love that Rowling portrays a long-term, loving friendship between a young man and young woman. My oldest, most loyal friend is male, and we’ve each stood by the other during plenty of hard times (not so difficult as Harry and Hermione’s, but difficult nonetheless). Plus, Hermione and Ron are very dear friends, after all. It’s not as though she suddenly ends up with Draco, which would happen in plenty of romantic comedies with the “if you love that jerk enough, he’ll stop being a jerk” plot. (By the way, this romantic-pairings tangent was inspired by this lovely post that I ran across tonight).

Like everyone else who has followed the series for years, I feel a little sad that the main avenues for the stories are finished. What a tremendous gift it’s been, though, to see it through with these characters who have simultaneously been friends, reflections of ourselves, and heroes we can aspire to emulate. Hermione is far from the only unforgettable character of Harry Potter, but I sure am glad that she’s been around for me and that she’ll be waiting for the next generation of book-smart girls and boys who dream of saving the world.

Which moments in the Harry Potter series (novels or films) have stuck with you?