The somewhat mundane adventures of a guy who keeps ending up in Asia... and his random musings.

A misleading title if ever there was one, I guess what it should read is something like "why I just can't seem to get worked up over the stuff I did when I was younger and how my tastes have changed in superficial ways but stayed the same in more substantial ways." I guess what I'm trying to say is I'll always basically be a nerd, but not one that exists in any sort of nerd society.

First, there was my obsession with medieval fantasy when I was very, VERY young. Even at the tender age of about 6 to 12 I never really dove fully into the world of Ren Fests and hardcore Dungeons and Dragons sessions, but I probably would have if the means had been available to me. I dabbled in D&D but most gaming sessions I had were very hap-hazard and broke down into me and my friends making fun of what we were doing. I pretty much stopped playing altogether by the time I was 13. I tried very hard to get into fantasy novels, but they always seemed so unoriginal. I figured I could just watch Krull and get the same effect, except I didn't really like that movie either. Overall this was probably the weakest of my nerdy obsessions, but next is one that kept with me for years.

For me, video games were basically three things: An escape, a diversion and a gateway into the world of technology. I loved to just play video games for hours on end, not sensing the time going by or being bothered by anything. I never felt that crazy feeling of actually being the hero; I was always fully cognizant of the fact that I was merely controlling a collection of pixels that looked vaguely like a soldier, but I liked the concentration I had to pour into it and it was, for lack of a better word, fun. I was at my worst when I was an early teenager, playing anything and everything. I would literally master things that I liked, getting to know the computers basic patterns and ripping apart any real players who wanted to face me. The problem is I learned a fundamental fact about myself during this time: I don't like losing, but I hate winning.
Losing means I wasn't good enough. Fine. But Winning means that I am the direct cause of someone else's pain, even if it is in a very minute way. Because of this paradox I now abhor competition and avoid it unless it is absolutely necessary. I still can play games like chess or tennis with friends because the competition is slow or non-existent, respectively (we never keep score in tennis). But whenever a dispute occurs over something like who goes first for something and rock-paper-scissors is introduced as a decider, I just say "nah, you can go first". Many people hate when I do this, but whatever, they should be happy. They get to go first, after all.

The cool thing about video games would be the divide. When I was about 18 years old, hyper competitive (and terminally geeky) online competitions were becoming more sophisticated and more popular. I tried to get into thee as well, but first person shooters never really impressed me much and the communities had no teamwork and were rarely based on having fun. Rather, most just played to get better, rack up numbers and knock off some n00bs while laughing to themselves. But as I grew older and the competitive edge ebbed out of me, a new genre of game was becoming more and more popular. Games with no specific goal, or no goal at all. Just little digital worlds that you could explore when you felt like it. Games like Sim-City caught my interest because of how open ended they were... not only could you play forever but you controlled almost all aspects of the game itself! As time went on more and more of these kinds of games came out culminating in the Massive Muli-player Role Playing Games that are so popular today. I bought Ultima online when it came out and played it for probably two years before canceling my account. I probably would still have that account too if it wern't for how laggy that game is. I just liked running around and exploring. Because of the "goal-free" genre I am still playing video games to this very day, although I admit that I play far less now then I ever did before.

I still play fighting or shooting games every now and then, but for the most part I use video games as a way to relax, so when I hear about games like Ninja Gaiden Black being so hard, I just think "That's nice" and return to petting my Nintendog. This is were I should mention that I can't be a video game nerd because of my lack of competitive spirit. See, With Ninja Gaiden I think, "Thats nice", but a true video game nerd will say something like "If u tink this gam is *too hard* then you are teh BIGGEST PUSSY! THIS GAME R0xxxx!!!!11!! Dnt let ANyone tell u that thsi game ist oo hard b-cuz they r jus STUPDI AND DONT NOW A GOO DGAME! FCK U N000bZZZz!!111" I find it hard to defend something that I didn't create myself so adamantly. I like the things I like, of course, but I'm not going to go out of my way to protect them. They don't define me... hell, if anything I define them. Companies that make goods that nerds consume (no, not Cheetos) have plenty of money and PR to take care of themselves. It is decidedly un-nerdy to not defend things you are a fan of, so I guess I'm safe there too.

I'll write up part two pretty soon. I didn't want to post it right away because it deals with the big "A", and a lot of it has to do with how creepy otaku (or "figure moe zoku" as I now prefer to call them) really are.