The Battle of Evermore

I usually divide my social life into two parts: the sociable frat boy and the recluse geek. It's very rare to find a situation where the two cross paths. That's why, when people ask me how I wrote ffsearch, or when people start asking me about linux or some other geeky topic, I get embarassed and usually don't want to talk about it. Most of the time, I try to distance myself from the part of me that can write code and have long discussions about computer-related topics, because I'm quite frankly embarassed by it. I think it might be because I fit (or did fit) the stereotype so well: skinny, pale, annoyingly sarcastic, having a maddeningly superior air, and so on. And I don't like the stereotype. Or maybe it's because I'm insecure in my ability as a geek. I really don't know how to program all that well, and I know that one day I'm going to run in to someone who could talk circles around me about computer programming. So I try to keep it on the down-low, so that such a thing never happens, and I don't have to realize just how little I know. Whatever the reasons, I am embarassed by my geekyness, and try to avoid it in every-day speech.

That's why things like performance programming are so weird to me. I mean, programming on stage probably seems weird to everyone in some way or another. But for most people it's because such a thing is unusual, and not something that they would think of doing. My problem is that I could think of doing it, but I can't imagine that you actually would want to. After years of Pavlovian training, I'm automatically averse to any public display of nerdiness. And live coding is definitely that.

I think it all comes down to the fact that geekyness is (in my mind) inherently un-sexy. So I try to avoid it, because I want a girl. Maybe the type of girl who would refuse to go out with a geek isn't the type of girl I'd want anyway. But I still can't bring myself to be unashamed of being a geek, after so long of trying to avoid the stigma. Oh well, I'm going to lunch.