Lies Geeks Have Told Me

Let’s face it, when it comes to talking shit, geeks do it best. Most of the time, this shit-talk is used to totally invalidate the likes and dislikes of other geeks and non-geeks. We take great pride in proving to others how the things we’re interested in are so much better and cooler (if you can even say that) than what they’re into. It’s just what geeks do.

But sometimes, this shit-talk turns into out-and-out lying. Seriously, it’s almost predatory how some geeks will mislead others. Whether it’s to get money out of someone or to validate their own shameful love of some property, geeks are excellent at hiding the truth.

Here are some lies geeks have told me:

1. The Great Comic Book Lie

When I was first getting into comics way back when, and I mean really getting into them, I went into fits trying to figure out which books my meager allowance should go to. Of course books like X-Men made the grade, but what else should young Chris buy?

Well, about that time, speculating on comic books became hot. For those not in the know (and God bless you for it), in the early and mid 90’s a bunch of folks decided that comics weren’t just for readin’, they were for getting rich quick. So they began to speculate on which comics would be the next “big money maker.” Publishers did not help, instead they fed these assholes by putting out multiple covers, chromium covers and new number one issues whenever they could. The frenzy went into full throttle. Here's an an Avenger's comic from around 1994 that was one of these special chromium covers:

You can tell it's expensive because it's made of metal... I guess.

Anyway, this is when I got lied to. I was at a comic shop one day when I was going to buy an issue of Fantastic Four or something like that when the shop owner shook his head and handed me a card. This card was a primer for how to speculate. Until that point I had never thought of buying comics for investment purposes, I just wanted to see the Avengers kick Ultron’s ass. But this card made me feel like an asshole for being so naïve.

Here’s the piece of advice from that card that sticks with me to this day: “If you have to decide between buying an older comic or a new number one or chromium covered variant edition, ALWAYS go for the new. Remember, the older comic’s value has probably gone up as high as it ever will. That new one could be worth hundreds if not thousands in just a few years or less.”

Well fuck me, I thought. So, because this wise old card had told me to, I spent a couple of months buying all the new crap I could. Why do I say crap? Let’s just say at one comic convention Lou Ferrigno (yes, the Hulk himself) was trying to cash in on the comic craze and conned me into buying about 12 number one issues of his “hot new” line of comics. For years after I held a silent hatred for Ferrigno.

But I should have been thankful to him, and today I am. Because of those 12 crap comics, I snapped out of my two month haze and went back to buying comics I enjoyed reading. Sure I was still mad at the comic companies for feeding this mentality, but I was vindicated about three years later.

How? The speculator market dried up and pretty much everyone went out of business over night. Even Marvel went into bankruptcy. I like to think my ire contributed to that at least a little bit.

2. Kull The Conqueror Is Going to Kick More Ass Than Conan!

Remember when Kevin Sorbo was all the rage for playing Hercules on that crappy syndicated TV show? You remember, the show that spawned Xena: Warrior Princess and made everyone forget Hercules? Before Hercules lost out to the Sapphic-erotic Xena, Sorbo was going places. In 1997 though, he decided to get out and show people that he wasn’t just some guy who could play an ancient Greek warrior. He wanted to show people that he had range, and he proved it in Kull The Conqueror by playing an ancient Atlantean warrior.

Some nerd at the local comic shop was all about this movie. Every time I went in to buy my comics, that’s all he could talk about. “Four weeks till Kull man!” He claimed to have seen an advanced screening and proclaimed it even better than Conan The Barbarian.

Shit, I said to myself. Conan was pretty sweet, but if Kull is better, bring it on!

Anyone who knows their crap movie history or has seen what USA Network plays at night can figure how this turned out. The comic guy was a damned liar. I tried to tell him as much, but that poor bastard held onto the illusion that Kull was indeed better than Conan. Not only was he lying to me, but he was lying to himself, which is somehow even sadder.

3. “I’m a Vietnam veteran, And I Will Break You!”

This isn’t so much a lie that was told to me, but one my dad told to another geek, and man was it funny. See, every year, we go to Atlanta’s sci-fi/comic convention, Dragon Con, and every year, my dad somehow manages to get into a verbal confrontation with the convention’s staff but it never really amounts to anything beyond my dad telling some zit-faced nerd to fuck himself. However, about two years, things escalated.

First, about my dad, or “Claybo” as he’s known to most people. He’s six feet tall and built like Jayne from Firefly. A former Marine, he loves sports and other manly things, but at heart, he's a geek, just like me. A real man's man, I look at him in awe and wonder how the hell I got shorted on the badass genes. Seriously, the guy is a powerhouse and he knows it.

Claybo at rest with his trusty camera.

Anyway, two years ago, Claybo and the rest of us were stoked because James Marsters was set to be in attendance at Dragon Con. We’re a family of Buffy fanatics, and all of us are Spike fans. Claybo wasn’t about to miss out on hanging with Big Bad himself. So we get there and security isn’t so much tight as it is weird. See, with most guests, you can take all the pictures you want, but the convention must have cut some kind of deal with Marsters as you could only get an official picture taken with him or of him and these official pictures cost no less than $50.

Claybo cares not for the laws of man, though. Camera in hand, he starts snapping away as soon as he comes into view of Marsters (who is really tiny in person). And he’s not being inconspicuous about it either. Nope, he’s just standing there, in front of everyone and in direct violation of convention rules, getting all the pictures he can. A roided-out body guard for James Marsters quickly notices and moves to tell Claybo that picture time is over.

“Put the camera down!” He yelled at my dad. “Or I will take it away.”

“Fuck you,” Claybo said, still taking pictures, not even looking at the professional hard-ass.

“What did you say to me?”

“Fuck. You.” He still wasn’t looking at the guy.

Well, this pissed off the guard, and rightly so. However, he then made a mistake; he got in Claybo’s face.

“Put it away now or you’ll be removed from the premises. I have been a body guard for dignitaries all over the world.”

Not only does Claybo not like being told what to do, but he also has a sick sense of humor. Get him mad enough, and he’ll combine righteous anger with, well, things that are blatantly untrue. Funny, yes, but still not true.

“I’m going to tell you this one time and only one time,” Claybo said in a voice loud enough to drown out the noise in the immediate area and with a lot of crazy added for effect. “You’re going to get out of my face right goddamn now. Boy, I'm an ex-Marine and I have fucked Vietnamese women badder than you think you are.”

The guy almost urinated himself, and rightfully so, though for his part tried to keep his cool. After all, I've yet to meet a man or beast my dad couldn't break. But Claybo wasn't being entirely truthful. Yes, Claybo was a Marine back in the 70’s, but he missed Vietnam by about a year. Not for lack of trying though. He joined the Marines in hopes that he could be the guy who sat on the edge of the helicopters shooting Charlie from above. Sadly, the war ended too soon.

Claybo took a few more pictures, daring this guy to mess with him (and he almost did, though my brother, who did get the big-guy genes from dad, then stepped between them). Claybo was proud and I was proud of him. He had combined physical intimidation with bullshitting skills that would make any smart ass proud. He was beaming. He finished taking the pictures he wanted, happy that he had photographed William the Bloody himself and put the camera away. It was time to move along, but before he left, he made eye contact with the guy one last time and did his best hundred yard stare. The jerk shivered and moved away.

Claybo walked away, laughing manically at his handy work. Not only had be bucked the system, but he had put the fear of God into some professional dignitary guardian or some-such. It was good to be Claybo that day. Ironically enough, he also shelled out the $50 later for an official picture of himself with James Marsters.

Man I love my dad.

The man who made me what I am today.