Note: My friend Christopher Welsh, famed author of the Houdini graphic novel, recently asked me for my address in order to send a Christmas card. What started off as a lark reply became something a little more serious in it's own way, and in my hubris I found it worth sharing. The value of that sentiment, as always, is yours to decide.)
Where do I live?
You can find me where two geeks are arguing about Kirk vs. Picard, The Ewok Christmas Special, or if Dawn of the Dead (2004) is superior to the original.
I reside in the heart of the gamer hunched over a computer screen for 12 hours whose sole goal is to loot a purple sword, as his current blue one is found lacking.
I am sitting around the table where oddly-shaped dice are rolled by pudgy, aging gamers pretending to be hobbits, vampires or Jedi.
I am on forum boards of all stripes and flavors, I am in a bidding war for an authentic Blade Runner movie prop signed by Rutger Hauer.
I can be found at conventions asking Edward James Olmos about his character motivation in Episode 17 of Battlestar Galactica, or being raunchy with my friends and stating which Disney princess we would most like to "do" (Ariel, btw).
I am in the bookstore looking for a post apocalyptic novel I heard about, at the theater eagerly anticipating the start of a horror movie.
I am downloading a ringtone that plays the Thundar the Barbarian theme song, I am creating a fan site for the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon, I am quoting Excalibur orMonty Python for the thousandth time in my life.
Where do I live?
I live in the hearts and souls of people who never quite "grew up" all the way, who still find childish wonder and amazement in at least some fanciful aspect of life, be it real or imaginary. And even if we will never truly be caped crusaders, zombie hunters, or knights of old, we carry with us a spark of magic, kindled in us as children, that we hope to pass on to the next generation.
If some look on us with pity, the true pity is reserved for them. For they have lost that sense of joy found in a simple game of cowboys and Indians, or in storming a cardboard box that has transformed into a castle of stone wherein lay a dangerous dragon and beautiful princess in need of rescue. They have not "grown up", for that implies a strengthening of something. No, they have 'grown down'. They have lost the magic.
Yes Chris, there is a Nerdaclaus, and he wishes you all the magic you can possibly fathom.
Merry Christmas,
Mike
Where do I live?
You can find me where two geeks are arguing about Kirk vs. Picard, The Ewok Christmas Special, or if Dawn of the Dead (2004) is superior to the original.
I reside in the heart of the gamer hunched over a computer screen for 12 hours whose sole goal is to loot a purple sword, as his current blue one is found lacking.
I am sitting around the table where oddly-shaped dice are rolled by pudgy, aging gamers pretending to be hobbits, vampires or Jedi.
I am on forum boards of all stripes and flavors, I am in a bidding war for an authentic Blade Runner movie prop signed by Rutger Hauer.
I can be found at conventions asking Edward James Olmos about his character motivation in Episode 17 of Battlestar Galactica, or being raunchy with my friends and stating which Disney princess we would most like to "do" (Ariel, btw).
I am in the bookstore looking for a post apocalyptic novel I heard about, at the theater eagerly anticipating the start of a horror movie.
I am downloading a ringtone that plays the Thundar the Barbarian theme song, I am creating a fan site for the Dungeons and Dragons cartoon, I am quoting Excalibur orMonty Python for the thousandth time in my life.
Where do I live?
I live in the hearts and souls of people who never quite "grew up" all the way, who still find childish wonder and amazement in at least some fanciful aspect of life, be it real or imaginary. And even if we will never truly be caped crusaders, zombie hunters, or knights of old, we carry with us a spark of magic, kindled in us as children, that we hope to pass on to the next generation.
If some look on us with pity, the true pity is reserved for them. For they have lost that sense of joy found in a simple game of cowboys and Indians, or in storming a cardboard box that has transformed into a castle of stone wherein lay a dangerous dragon and beautiful princess in need of rescue. They have not "grown up", for that implies a strengthening of something. No, they have 'grown down'. They have lost the magic.
Yes Chris, there is a Nerdaclaus, and he wishes you all the magic you can possibly fathom.
Merry Christmas,
Mike
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