June 13, 2012 by timbuckler
I do not believe in favourites. Ask me what my favourite film is and it will differ on almost a daily basis, from Empire strikes back to Goodfellas, Clerks to Superman II, and The Crow to Rocky, it all depends if I’m feeling sad, happy, angry, hyper, mellow or just plain saucy.
My favourites reflect my mood. And it isn’t just movies. It’s music, hobbies, food, places, even friends. To have one favourite without exception I find to be very narrow minded. The more open a person you are, a wider spectrum of entertainment you enjoy.
Also I am a Geek. A real Geek. Not this weird, black rimmed glasses checked shirt wearing fool that seems to be making the fashion rounds at the moment. No sir, a Dorito loving, video game playing, comic-book reading, who shot first discussing, Michael Bay hating Geek McGeek.
What a true geek looks like
What a pretentious prick looks like
And I love it. Why? Because of the escapism. Because of the fantasy. The bitter-sweet truth is that a Geek will never truly be happy this life time. We will never find out we were the last son of a dying planet with super powers beyond our wildest comprehension. We will never be bitten by that radio-active spider, we will never discover that the computer game we were playing was actually a simulator to test if we had the chops for real life galactic warfare, and we will probably never find a sexual partner who is not fat/smelly/crazy/ all of the above. It will never happen. (well maybe the last one if we took a shower and put down the fried chicken long enough to do some exercise, but fuck you, I like chicken.)
Seriously dude, she is probably bat-shit crazy.
With all these factors combined I often find myself trying to emulate my fictional heroes. Trying to put that bit of fantasy into reality. Depending on the event I am attending, the activity I am doing, or the fantasy that is my current flavour of the month (My flavour at this time is Sherlock Holmes, the Walking Dead and Batman. If it was a three scoop ice-cream flavour it would be called “The Walking Bat-Lock….or maybe “The Sher-Dead-Man”……But I digress.)
Even right now as I write this I am not Timothy Buckler, sipping cold coffee desperately trying to type out an introduction before I start work. Oh no sir. I am Hunter S Buckler, Gonzo writer extraordinaire , downing a caffeine hit and trying to finish his latest masterpiece before the next dead-line, Sticking to the generation of swine that restricts my freedoms and rights.
With all this in mind, I would like to express other fictional characters I channel every waking moment of my life, hell, even in the sleeping moments of my life, and the harsh reality of what I am truly projecting.
“Yesh I have a lighter. You want me to fucking schmoke it for you too?”
The Fantasy: Smooth, cool and calm, you make your way through the party making eye contact with each girl that goes by, giving them a smile which they return with sultry eyes. You dry wit is the capper of every conversation, men want to be you and women want to be with you. Occasionally you walk through the crowd with haste and a raised eyebrow, as If you have a destination to be, a mission to accomplish and not a lot of time to achieve it. The world is yours for the taking. And you always have an escape route planned out in your head as you take a sip from your dry Martini. Shaken of course, not stirred.
The Reality: Martini tastes like shit. Girls are starting to get a little bit creeped out by your constant leering over them, and your friends are getting tired of you interrupting every conversation with nonsensical lines such as “just trying to keep the British end up “ and “he certainly left with his tail between his legs!”. You see, Bond quips only really work after something loud and exciting happens, to be followed by an unfazed line of coolness. For example, in Goldfinger, Bond electrocutes an assassin in a bath tub using a lamp. As he puts on his Jacket he exclaims “Shocking…..positively shocking”. I don’t know about you, but if I was ever in that situation I would probably just fall to the floor with my head my knees, tears falling from eyes, and rock back and forth screaming” FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK”.
“FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK FUCK!”
The question that plagues us all. Does the Doctor death shit himself when he regenerates?
The Fantasy: This one is a real Geek favourite. Geeks are not “Geezers”. They are not meat heads who enjoying guzzling beer, talking football and not pronouncing syllables properly. Geeks believe in the fantastic, in adventure, and in love. As the Doctor you triumph over such anilmalistic behaviour as you are constantly in control with out being threatening. You know all there is you need to know because you actually listen and your smarts and wits beat brute force and violence every time.
The Reality: You walk around in circles, annoying people by getting up in their faces and telling them odd facts that they do not care about. You think you are being confident and eccentric, but the truth is you are being loud and camp. As you wave your hands about in a flamboyant manner, take care not to knock someone’s drink out of there hands, because your clear head and sharp wits are no match for the fist hurtling its way towards your head. But the real pain is when you hear the crowd pleasing cheer after you have been laid-out, as the people rejoice in the fact that someone has finally made you shut the fuck up.
Even Colin Baker is a better Doctor than you.
Bruce Lee (in every Bruce Lee film ever)
Bruce Lee throwing out the horns. “Be like water. Don’t think, feel and PARTY ON DUDES!!!!”
The Fantasy: You are cool and silent as you sit, watching the world around, only to speak when you are spoken too. When you respond to a question, you impart mystical wisdom on those near you. Wisdom such as “A goal is not always meant to be reached, it often serves simply as something to aim at.” or “A wise man can learn more from a foolish question than a fool can learn from a wise answer.” Always peaceful, always caring, until someone close to you gets hurt. Then its time to scream like an angry spider monkey, as you dash round the room roundhouse kicking people through windows and smacking skulls against easily breakable tables. After the chaos you tilt your head, flick your nose and give a thumbs up, like it ain’t no thang.
The Reality: People constantly come up to you asking if you are okay because you haven’t said a fucking word all night. Your response, rather than a piece of Zen wisdom, will probably be “Yeah…just…thinking” or “I’m just tired”. Then they leave you to sit by yourself like the boring drain of life that you are.
Then trouble kicks off. One of your friends is squaring off against a Danny Dyer looking chap in a white shirt, so you immediately dart off to the safety of the back of the group. Or you do what I do, which is grab your friend by the shoulders, telling him to “Leave it!” That way you look like a hero in front of the girlie’s, without the risk of getting punched in the nose. I hate getting punched in the nose.
“Awwwwww dude, fail!”
Jedi Knight/ Sith lord
“Luminous beings are we, not this crude matter”
The Fantasy: This one totally depends on the mood. The Jedi acts cool, calm and collective, much like Bruce Lee. The Sith, However, Is a lot more intense. You march with purpose, only to stop to listen to the most important information. After you are told, you bark orders at the informant and carry on with your march. You are in control of your group, so you know exactly what the next plan of action should be. When your group achieves this action, you give them a sentence of praise then continue marching. If they fail however, you choke them the fuck out. Bonus points if you can throw in a line of Stars Wars dialogue. No matter if you choose Jedi or Sith, the fact remains that the Force is your ally, and a powerful ally it is. We are all connected, every action will have a reaction, and nothing will come as a surprise, as it has already been foreseen.
The Reality: Waving your hand in front of automatic doors does not look cool. Long coats and hoods make you appear to be a rapist rather than an agent of the Force, and when quoting Star Wars, make sure its clear and to the point, otherwise, like most Geek fantasy’s, you end up talking shit
Alf: Right, Finish your pint. We got to head off to the club now before the queue starts.
Tim: I find your Lack of faith disturbing….
Alf: Well, find as disturbing as you want but the fact is if we don’t leave now we won’t get in
Tim: Do not underestimate the power of the Darkside…..
Alf: Ah balls, it’s starting to rain….
Tim: Apology accepted, Captain Needa
Alf: OH FUCK OFF!
“Drunken bitches are we, not this luminous horse shit.”
Captain Jack Sparrow
“Yarr, all the girls want a ride on my scurvy ridden salty sea dog!’
The Fantasy: You take a swig of rum, and you stagger around the scene like a wasted yet coherent Keith Richards. You fear nothing, and when danger appears it is but another excuse to laugh in its face. You slap girls bums and they giggle because your Johnny Depp. The more alcohol you drink, the more lovable and enduring your tom-foolery becomes until you find a wench to bed with. YO HO, YO HO A PIRATES LIFE FOR ME!!! YARRRRRGGGGHHH!
The Reality: You take a swig of rum and promptly vomit, as downing pure rum is nowhere near as tasty as pirates make it look. You fear nothing, unless shit gets real, then you turn and run. You slap girls bums and they promptly kick you in the balls because your that fat dickhead who works in the video shop. The more alcohol you drink, the more creepy and “hands on” you get with wenches until the police arrest you for assault. “FUCK NO, FUCK NO, ITS OFF TO PRISION FOR ME! AARRRRRRRGGGGGGHHH!” Better rub of that mascara before you become the bottom bitch, and find out what truly lurks in Davy Jones locker.
“yarr, I should have realised no means no.”
This is the part where I tell you that the best person to be is yourself. Fuck that. Be what you want to be, just try to do it well. Never give in to reality, reality is a cold, god forsaken place where no-ones heard off Mitch Hedberg, yet people find “T.O.W.I.E” hilarious. Escape into fantasy, for there are others like like you. We Geeks are not a minority, we are “the chosen ones”. To quote Willy Wonka (Who was quoting Arthur O’Shaughnessy) “ We are the music makers, and we are the dreamers of dreams”.
And remember, if reality gets too real, somewhere out there in the multi-verse of infinite possibility’s, there is a T.A.R.D.I.S waiting to break through into our dimension and save us all. Peace out you fucking nerds. Xxxx.
There is also a chance that tripod alien death machines could break into are dimension. But lets not think about that.