Genericization is, too a word
Naturally, when I should be in bed, I'm ruminating about stereotyping, marginalization, tokening, stock characters, archetypes, blah blah.
All because I've found it annoying that metacultural representations of geeks tend to go with shorthand based on Star Wars, Star Trek, vampires, zombies, superheroes and, if they're trying to aim in a slightly more hipster direction, Whedon (for UKers: Add Who.) And also because I'm feeling rather marginalized these days because I'm not really into any of those things, and therefore I'm apparently not really a geek, depending on whom one asks.
There isn't necessarily a problem with those fandoms (or their canons) per se, and they do have large-enough followings that they're very salient. When you're sheerly generalizing and statistics matter, yeah, you can probably assume that the average geek is familiar with Han Solo. The problem, however, is that these fandoms have become so genericized that non-geek culture has formed incredibly limited and easily marginalized shorthand views of the types of people represented in them, and thus fen in general.
For another example: It's the problem of virtually every gay character in straight media boiling down to a cookie-cutter fabulous queen. There's absolutely nothing wrong with fabulous queens, of course, and absolutely, they exist and deserve representation. The problem is that straight culture has a very set character card in mind for people exhibiting those traits, and it's one that they find easily dismissable. As with any other stock token, lazy writers (or ones bound by lazy, small-minded producers and editors) draw up the paper doll, give it a few universally recognizable traits, and think that's good enough to represent several million people. It's SO much harder to write a person with hobbies, ideas, a life purpose, a sex life, fears, hopes, love ... who also just happens to be a fabulous queen. Or any other flavor of queer, regardless of whether there's a name and a lot of real-life mascots for it.
I think we geeks are just so tickled that mainstream culture is pandering to us at all that we're not questioning enough how we're being represented. So long as it's beyond the socially-stunted, hygiene-challenged, mom's-basement guy, we're happy, even if the stock characters that continue to be produced don't actually look or act like ourselves or anyone we know, or are used as the butt of jokes or for the amusement of a largely muggle audience. (See: Chuck, Big Bang Theory, etc.)
Of course most geeky sorts have many of these well-known fandoms in common. It's especially common among fen of certain generations. Every Gen X geek on the planet knows where they were when they first saw Star Wars. Likewise for younger folks (and especially younger women) with X Files or Buffy. And the generation just now coming of age will feel the same about HP and LOTR.
But I don't know a single geek, even those for whom those properties are a primary fandom, whose geek identity is bound up entirely within that one thing, much less within one particular way of experiencing and enjoying it. Writing your Trek nerd as a guy who speaks Klingon and wears Spock ears is lazy. Are there guys like that? Of course. Is that ALL they are? Not usually. And they're not the majority of Trek nerds, and certainly not the majority of fen. Writing your girl geek as exclusively into Whedon and/or vampires? Lazy lazy lazy. Writing your Brit geek as exclusively into Who? Bloody lazy, wot? ;P
Marketers, especially media marketers, have discovered the power of the geek wallet, and are now throwing generic-geek-branded stuff at us at every possible moment. And we're eating it up, because we're still so very tickled to see Star Wars references in mainstream media, or to be able to purchase a Tardis cookie jar. I get that. I do. I just wish we'd stop and think for a moment more often, and question whether how we're being packaged--whether as consumer or product--really feels like an authentic representation of who we are.
We geeks are no longer few and dispersed. We can afford to ignore or even complain about things aimed at us that don't ring true. And we should. We are a force to be reckoned with, after all. Making us angry would be highly illogical, because we are subtle and quick to anger and use our braaains. Shiny? Then don't panic, allons-y and let's avada kedavra these lazy fraks.
All because I've found it annoying that metacultural representations of geeks tend to go with shorthand based on Star Wars, Star Trek, vampires, zombies, superheroes and, if they're trying to aim in a slightly more hipster direction, Whedon (for UKers: Add Who.) And also because I'm feeling rather marginalized these days because I'm not really into any of those things, and therefore I'm apparently not really a geek, depending on whom one asks.
There isn't necessarily a problem with those fandoms (or their canons) per se, and they do have large-enough followings that they're very salient. When you're sheerly generalizing and statistics matter, yeah, you can probably assume that the average geek is familiar with Han Solo. The problem, however, is that these fandoms have become so genericized that non-geek culture has formed incredibly limited and easily marginalized shorthand views of the types of people represented in them, and thus fen in general.
For another example: It's the problem of virtually every gay character in straight media boiling down to a cookie-cutter fabulous queen. There's absolutely nothing wrong with fabulous queens, of course, and absolutely, they exist and deserve representation. The problem is that straight culture has a very set character card in mind for people exhibiting those traits, and it's one that they find easily dismissable. As with any other stock token, lazy writers (or ones bound by lazy, small-minded producers and editors) draw up the paper doll, give it a few universally recognizable traits, and think that's good enough to represent several million people. It's SO much harder to write a person with hobbies, ideas, a life purpose, a sex life, fears, hopes, love ... who also just happens to be a fabulous queen. Or any other flavor of queer, regardless of whether there's a name and a lot of real-life mascots for it.
I think we geeks are just so tickled that mainstream culture is pandering to us at all that we're not questioning enough how we're being represented. So long as it's beyond the socially-stunted, hygiene-challenged, mom's-basement guy, we're happy, even if the stock characters that continue to be produced don't actually look or act like ourselves or anyone we know, or are used as the butt of jokes or for the amusement of a largely muggle audience. (See: Chuck, Big Bang Theory, etc.)
Of course most geeky sorts have many of these well-known fandoms in common. It's especially common among fen of certain generations. Every Gen X geek on the planet knows where they were when they first saw Star Wars. Likewise for younger folks (and especially younger women) with X Files or Buffy. And the generation just now coming of age will feel the same about HP and LOTR.
But I don't know a single geek, even those for whom those properties are a primary fandom, whose geek identity is bound up entirely within that one thing, much less within one particular way of experiencing and enjoying it. Writing your Trek nerd as a guy who speaks Klingon and wears Spock ears is lazy. Are there guys like that? Of course. Is that ALL they are? Not usually. And they're not the majority of Trek nerds, and certainly not the majority of fen. Writing your girl geek as exclusively into Whedon and/or vampires? Lazy lazy lazy. Writing your Brit geek as exclusively into Who? Bloody lazy, wot? ;P
Marketers, especially media marketers, have discovered the power of the geek wallet, and are now throwing generic-geek-branded stuff at us at every possible moment. And we're eating it up, because we're still so very tickled to see Star Wars references in mainstream media, or to be able to purchase a Tardis cookie jar. I get that. I do. I just wish we'd stop and think for a moment more often, and question whether how we're being packaged--whether as consumer or product--really feels like an authentic representation of who we are.
We geeks are no longer few and dispersed. We can afford to ignore or even complain about things aimed at us that don't ring true. And we should. We are a force to be reckoned with, after all. Making us angry would be highly illogical, because we are subtle and quick to anger and use our braaains. Shiny? Then don't panic, allons-y and let's avada kedavra these lazy fraks.