King of the Geeks

My professor for Epic Politics in Film is an insane old coot. He is tall and has large nostrils, so everyone can see up his nose as he towers above the class. He has a salt and pepper beard and stands with his hands clasped behind his back. His stomach is round and stretches the fronts of his sweater vests.

Theoretically, the class is about the ways epic films provide us with political myths. Practically, the class is an excuse for the professor to talk about swords, wars, the Lord of the Rings and other topics close to the hearts of geeks everywhere. There are four or five of these geeks in the class. Mostly males, they are the students who scream "Arwen!" in unison if someone has trouble recalling the name of the elf princess. They are not embarrassed by their knowledge, nor reticent about sharing.

My professor revels in this sea of useless trivia. He is the King of the Geeks and presides gloatingly over his geekdom. He asks the class what the design on Frodo's sword looks like, then bellows, "Oh, come on!" when no one has a clue. Sometimes even the other geeks let him down. He watches each film once, then watches it again with the commentary. He loves the commentaries--they drip with geekiness.

I must admit that I am somewhat of a geek. I love the Lord of Rings and have read all the books. I have a subscription to National Geographic. I play sometimes computer games. Yet, I am not in the company of the true geeks, the ones who own a replica of the "one ring" and dream of naming their first-born after a character. My professor named his daughter Arwen. But what else would the King of the Geeks name his princess? As for me, I am content to stay on the fringes of geekiness where I can watch the occasional episode of Days of Our Lives and not feel ashamed.