“As a jock, it’s my duty to give nerds a hard time”

Though I’m no more an athlete than Homer Simpson, I take his admonishment seriously. Four years ago, in a column published by the AJC, I warned that geeks were about to inherit the Earth, or at least its multitude of cineplexes:

Remember the “Star Trek” juror, the Arkansas woman who wore a Starfleet uniform during the Whitewater trial? Yes, we all had a good laugh at her expense. Little did we know that within five years she’d be among Hollywood’s prized demographic. Without warning, a confederacy of geeks has taken over the popular culture.

“The Matrix.” “X-Men.” The latest chapter in the trolls and elves trilogy. This is cinema for the “Dungeons and Dragons” set. Who put the Society for Creative Anachronism (that group you may recall from college, jousting on the lawn in medieval garb shouting “zounds” at each other as they drank from faux goblets) in charge of programming?

Once we mocked nerds. It was tradition. Now we (filmgoers, the flock mentality media) follow their lead.

Check out the passion spouted by one local man in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution just before the opening of that hobbit movie: “There is a vague sense in my mind that this is the last time in my life I’m going to have this experience. Nothing else is going to generate this excitement.”

I should’ve seen this coming. On my first day as a film schooler out West, we were asked which writer or director had inspired us most. I feared my response would be sneered at as pedestrian or, even worse, domestic!

But then I heard the name James Cameron. More than once. Same with George Lucas. No Ashbys or Wilders or Peckinpahs or Hustons.

Even now, having switched coasts a second time, I can’t avoid the “other world” acolytes. An editor recently encouraged me to hook an article about police corruption to the struggle for the ring. When I displayed ignorance at his reference to Gollum, he gave me the kind of look once reserved for people who couldn’t tell you the name of the vice president.

Such sentiments were formerly restricted to online chat rooms and sci-fi conventions, a few of which I covered (we had slow news days back then). I watched people nearly trample each other in their rush to fill an auditorium where Marc “The Beastmaster” Singer was set to muse. I observed adults bid thousands of dollars on an autographed copy of Leonard Nimoy’s biography.

Little wonder I would always leave those events with unprecedented conviction that I was the coolest guy in the room.

Nerd mainstreaming was inevitable, I guess. It happened to rednecks (auto racing and wrestling have never been more popular). Are you really prepared for a pocket protector version of comic Jeff Foxworthy: You might be a dork if . . . ?

So the need for reaction is clear. It’s time someone stood up against geek chic. Back to your parents’ basement, I say.

As for everyone else, step back and reflect on the security of the schoolyard pecking order. Remember when the kid with the Star Trek Trapper Keeper was all that stood between you and the bottom social rung? Fight these otherworldly powers or, 10 years on, face the prospect of water cooler chatter about “Dungeons and Dragons 4: Back from the Maze.”

Always a few years behind the cultural curve, the mainstream media has recently discovered the power of the socially maladjusted. Not that I have anything against geeks — I just wish we weren’t all forced to inhabit their for-profit fantasy world.

They’re like putty in his hands

The president convened his quarterly right-wing echo chamber yesterday, visiting with radio yakkers including Glenn Beck, Bill Bennett, Neal Boortz, Laura Ingraham and Hugh Hewittt. Eddie Haskell couldn’t make it, though he did pass along a warm note praising Bush’s decisive leadership and Mrs. Bush’s simple yet sophisticated fashion sense.

Judging by Hewitt’s breathless regurgitation of propaganda, the meeting was a resounding success:

“I will say on today’s show that I am confident about the course of the war and about the momentum in Iraq, as well of the president’s absolute commitment to doing right by the troops and his concern for every lost and wounded soldier and their families. President Bush’s command of the details and his broad view of the conflict is reassuring, and among my comments to him was the wish that he found more opportunities to engage in long interviews that would allow the American public to see that grasp and that commitment.”

He’s also a big fan of Dick Cheney: “The next president has got to chose a vice president as skilled as Cheney and a team as experienced as that which was around President Bush after 9/11 if only because the scale of the responsibility is so great and the need for clear thinking so profound. The people diseased with BDS will never get this, but the country is extraordinarily blessed to have had President Bush and Vice President Cheney and their senior aides during these first few years of a very long war.”

Goebbels would be proud.

“Don’t cry for me. I’m already dead”

I wanted to like “The Simpsons” movie, but I had my doubts going in, based on the recent decline of the TV series (Barney’s sobreity was the last straw.) Too many sight gags, not enough clever satire. And whereas the writers once casually dropped references to obscure pop culture figures like Sheriff Lobo or Snagglepuss, they now strain to be current (insert Harry Potter cameo).

That trend carries over in the movie, a lackluster affair that — even in its best moments — only mildly amuses. There was nothing as original or inspired as found in one half-hour episode from the glory years.

For example, the “Deep Space Homer” episode would’ve made for a much better flick (imagine a flashback showing Homer’s ill-timed visit to see Mr. T at the mall). What might’ve been.

Even the opening “Itchy and Scratchy” cartoon flatlined. And yes, I know I’m sounding a little like Comic Book Guy (who at least got a few lines in the movie). Patty and Selma had none. Mr. Burns barely made an appearance. Same with Apu and the rest of the supporting brood. Whose dumb idea was that?

I guess it’s asking too much to expect relevance from a show entering its 20th season. So instead of piling on, here’s a scattershot compilation of some of the best lines in “Simpsons” history. Feel free to nominate your favorites, as I’ve no doubt overlooked many worthy candidates:

“TV would never lie to me.”

“Remember, boy, if at first you don’t succeed, stop trying.”

“Nothing like a depressant to chase away the blues.”

“This is the greatest case of false advertising since I sued the makers of ‘The Neverending Story.’ “

Marge: “I’m a regular Billy Crystal.” Bart: “You got that right.”

“It gets 1 highway, 0 city”

“Could it be more orange?”

“Pardon me, Oldie Hawn.”

“Grover Cleveland Alexander spanked me on two non-consecutive occasions.”

“It’s like that time I could’ve met Mr. T at the mall. All day I said, ‘I’ll go a little later, I’ll go a little later.’ And when I finally got there, they told me Mr. T had left.”

“Hello, my name is Mr. Burns. I believe you have a letter for me.” “Okay Mr. Burns. What’s your first name?” “I don’t know.”

“Marge, only two kind of people wear loud Hawaiian shirts: big fat party animals and gay guys.”

“It tastes like burning.”

“I’ve turned Maude’s dream for a Chrustian amusement park into a bemusement park.”

“Richard Dean Anderson will be in my dreams tonight.”

“It’s funny ’cause I don’t know ‘em.”

Never offend a Muslim

Is there anything more sickening than puny intellectuals who bow to extremist demands instead of defending free speech?

Cambridge University Press has just agreed to pull all unsold copies of the 2006 book, “Alms for Jihad: Charity and Terrorism in the Islamic World” after being threatened with legal repercussions. According to the Chronicle of Higher Education, this is the fourth such book on terrorism funding to be pursued by a libel action.

And the Cambridge publishers have just set a frightening precedent, says Rachel Ehrenfeld, author of one of the books being targeted.

Ms. Ehrenfeld characterized as “despicable” Cambridge’s decision to settle this week, a move the press has defended as necessary and just. Ms. Ehrenfeld, who is a friend of Mr. Burr’s [one of the authors of Alms for Jihad], said that, as she understands it, press officials “caved immediately.”

“They didn’t even consider the evidence that the authors had given them,” she said. “They received a threatening letter, and they immediately caved in and said, Do whatever it takes. Pay them whatever they want. Ban the book, destroy the book, we don’t want this lawsuit.”

The next wave

Could the next generation of gays be more interested in individuality than group identity? I’m hopeful after reading this piece about young athletes who’ve come out of the closet:   

Acevedo joined the track team partly for love of the sport and partly to break stereotypes: “I wanted to say that I’m more than just gay.”

Goodman was more fearful that his sexual orientation might overshadow everything else.

“I want to be known as a rower,” he said. “Not as the gay kid.”

“As a jock, it’s my duty to give nerds a hard time”

Though I’m no more an athlete than Homer Simpson, I take his admonishment seriously. Four years ago, in a column published by the AJC, I warned that geeks were about to inherit the Earth, or at least its multitude of cineplexes:

Remember the "Star Trek" juror, the Arkansas woman who wore a Starfleet uniform during the Whitewater trial? Yes, we all had a good laugh at her expense. Little did we know that within five years she’d be among Hollywood’s prized demographic. Without warning, a confederacy of geeks has taken over the popular culture.

"The Matrix." "X-Men." The latest chapter in the trolls and elves trilogy. This is cinema for the "Dungeons and Dragons" set. Who put the Society for Creative Anachronism (that group you may recall from college, jousting on the lawn in medieval garb shouting "zounds" at each other as they drank from faux goblets) in charge of programming?

Once we mocked nerds. It was tradition. Now we (filmgoers, the flock mentality media) follow their lead.

Check out the passion spouted by one local man in The Atlanta Journal-Constitution just before the opening of that hobbit movie: "There is a vague sense in my mind that this is the last time in my life I’m going to have this experience. Nothing else is going to generate this excitement."

I should’ve seen this coming. On my first day as a film schooler out West, we were asked which writer or director had inspired us most. I feared my response would be sneered at as pedestrian or, even worse, domestic!

But then I heard the name James Cameron. More than once. Same with George Lucas. No Ashbys or Wilders or Peckinpahs or Hustons.

Even now, having switched coasts a second time, I can’t avoid the "other world" acolytes. An editor recently encouraged me to hook an article about police corruption to the struggle for the ring. When I displayed ignorance at his reference to Gollum, he gave me the kind of look once reserved for people who couldn’t tell you the name of the vice president.

Such sentiments were formerly restricted to online chat rooms and sci-fi conventions, a few of which I covered (we had slow news days back then). I watched people nearly trample each other in their rush to fill an auditorium where Marc "The Beastmaster" Singer was set to muse. I observed adults bid thousands of dollars on an autographed copy of Leonard Nimoy’s biography.

Little wonder I would always leave those events with unprecedented conviction that I was the coolest guy in the room.

Nerd mainstreaming was inevitable, I guess. It happened to rednecks (auto racing and wrestling have never been more popular). Are you really prepared for a pocket protector version of comic Jeff Foxworthy: You might be a dork if . . . ?

So the need for reaction is clear. It’s time someone stood up against geek chic. Back to your parents’ basement, I say.

As for everyone else, step back and reflect on the security of the schoolyard pecking order. Remember when the kid with the Star Trek Trapper Keeper was all that stood between you and the bottom social rung? Fight these otherworldly powers or, 10 years on, face the prospect of water cooler chatter about "Dungeons and Dragons 4: Back from the Maze."

Always a few years behind the cultural curve, the mainstream media has recently discovered the power of the socially maladjusted. Not that I have anything against geeks — I just wish we weren’t all forced to inhabit their for-profit fantasy world.

They’re like putty in his hands

The president convened his quarterly right-wing echo chamber yesterday, visiting with radio yakkers including Glenn Beck, Bill Bennett, Neal Boortz, Laura Ingraham and Hugh Hewittt. Eddie Haskell couldn’t make it, though he did pass along a warm note praising Bush’s decisive leadership and Mrs. Bush’s simple yet sophisticated fashion sense.

Judging by Hewitt’s breathless regurgitation of propaganda, the meeting was a resounding success:

“I will say on today’s show that I am confident about the course of the war and about the momentum in Iraq, as well of the president’s absolute commitment to doing right by the troops and his concern for every lost and wounded soldier and their families. President Bush’s command of the details and his broad view of the conflict is reassuring, and among my comments to him was the wish that he found more opportunities to engage in long interviews that would allow the American public to see that grasp and that commitment.”

He’s also a big fan of Dick Cheney: “The next president has got to chose a vice president as skilled as Cheney and a team as experienced as that which was around President Bush after 9/11 if only because the scale of the responsibility is so great and the need for clear thinking so profound. The people diseased with BDS will never get this, but the country is extraordinarily blessed to have had President Bush and Vice President Cheney and their senior aides during these first few years of a very long war.”

Goebbels would be proud.

“Don’t cry for me. I’m already dead”

I wanted to like “The Simpsons” movie, but I had my doubts going in, based on the recent decline of the TV series (Barney’s sobreity was the last straw.) Too many sight gags, not enough clever satire. And whereas the writers once casually dropped references to obscure pop culture figures like Sheriff Lobo or Snagglepuss, they now strain to be current (insert Harry Potter cameo).

That trend carries over in the movie, a lackluster affair that — even in its best moments — only mildly amuses. There was nothing as original or inspired as found in one half-hour episode from the glory years.

For example, the “Deep Space Homer” episode would’ve made for a much better flick (imagine a flashback showing Homer’s ill-timed visit to see Mr. T at the mall). What might’ve been.

Even the opening “Itchy and Scratchy” cartoon flatlined. And yes, I know I’m sounding a little like Comic Book Guy (who at least got a few lines in the movie). Patty and Selma had none. Mr. Burns barely made an appearance. Same with Apu and the rest of the supporting brood. Whose dumb idea was that?

I guess it’s asking too much to expect relevance from a show entering its 20th season. So instead of piling on, here’s a scattershot compilation of some of the best lines in “Simpsons” history. Feel free to nominate your favorites, as I’ve no doubt overlooked many worthy candidates:

“TV would never lie to me.”

“Remember, boy, if at first you don’t succeed, stop trying.”

“Nothing like a depressant to chase away the blues.”

“This is the greatest case of false advertising since I sued the makers of ‘The Neverending Story.’ “

Marge: “I’m a regular Billy Crystal.” Bart: “You got that right.”

“It gets 1 highway, 0 city”

“Could it be more orange?”

“Pardon me, Oldie Hawn.”

“Grover Cleveland Alexander spanked me on two non-consecutive occasions.”

“It’s like that time I could’ve met Mr. T at the mall. All day I said, ‘I’ll go a little later, I’ll go a little later.’ And when I finally got there, they told me Mr. T had left.”

“Hello, my name is Mr. Burns. I believe you have a letter for me.” “Okay Mr. Burns. What’s your first name?” “I don’t know.”

“Marge, only two kind of people wear loud Hawaiian shirts: big fat party animals and gay guys.”

“It tastes like burning.”

“I’ve turned Maude’s dream for a Chrustian amusement park into a bemusement park.”

“Richard Dean Anderson will be in my dreams tonight.”

“It’s funny ’cause I don’t know ‘em.”

Never offend a Muslim

Is there anything more sickening than puny intellectuals who bow to extremist demands instead of defending free speech?

Cambridge University Press has just agreed to pull all unsold copies of the 2006 book, "Alms for Jihad: Charity and Terrorism in the Islamic World" after being threatened with legal repercussions. According to the Chronicle of Higher Education, this is the fourth such book on terrorism funding to be pursued by a libel action.

And the Cambridge publishers have just set a frightening precedent, says Rachel Ehrenfeld, author of one of the books being targeted.

Ms. Ehrenfeld characterized as "despicable" Cambridge’s decision to settle this week, a move the press has defended as necessary and just. Ms. Ehrenfeld, who is a friend of Mr. Burr’s [one of the authors of Alms for Jihad], said that, as she understands it, press officials "caved immediately."

"They didn’t even consider the evidence that the authors had given them," she said. "They received a threatening letter, and they immediately caved in and said, Do whatever it takes. Pay them whatever they want. Ban the book, destroy the book, we don’t want this lawsuit."

The next wave

Could the next generation of gays be more interested in individuality than group identity? I’m hopeful after reading this piece about young athletes who’ve come out of the closet:   

Acevedo joined the track team partly for love of the sport and partly to break stereotypes: "I wanted to say that I’m more than just gay."

Goodman was more fearful that his sexual orientation might overshadow everything else.

"I want to be known as a rower," he said. "Not as the gay kid."

Just when you thought I was out …

they pull me back in.

Who are they? The usual suspects, mostly. Stay tuned, as I have plenty of catching up to do after an unprecedented hiatus. Thanks to Miss Ellie for hastening my return; I received a call from her last night in which she informed me that, due to my absence, she’s found herself drifting to the worst blog on the Web. Nothing wrong with that — I get plenty of material from him — though I sensed a certain desperation on her part.

“He’s suggesting music from the soundtrack of ‘Felicity’ now,” Miss Ellie reported. An exasperated sigh followed.

Should I be surprised that Duane was a fan of one of those insufferable late-1990′s relationship dramas? I should not.

Thus, the vacation ends. I may be pale, tired and unprepared (as opposed to tan, rested and ready), but you can’t keep a budding old crank silent for long.