Anatomy of a nerd
Jonathan Vern McGill
It seems like just about everyone and their dog goes around saying they are a geek about this or a nerd about that, but there can only be one original.
The classic nerd.
The punching bag of any modern high school. A person whose I.Q. exceeds their own weight. Although they thrived during the mid-20th century, hidden behind towers of books or crammed in gym lockers, the classic nerd is now an endangered species in the modern era.
It is rare to find a fully intact and classical nerd in the wild for an in-depth examination. Populating the schools, malls, libraries and tech stores of modern society are the imitators (see: hipster, geek-chic). They wear thick-framed Ray-Bans with polarized lenses, white-corded earbuds, off-black corduroy pants, and vintage retro bow-ties purchased from stores on 17th Avenue you probably haven’t heard of.
The classic nerd, depicted above, was wearing all this before it was cool (and with a 4.0 to boot). The main difference between these imitators and the classic nerd is that the latter is boringly studious, but enticingly intelligent and able to cite pi backward from the forty-second digit.
This nerd is the purebred. The Alaskan husky of all things intellectual. Bounding from bookshelf to bookshelf like a ferocious four-eyed tiger, the nerd knows no limits. They are unimpeded by social events, FarmVille invites, and the temptation of reddit. This nerd has a bloodthirsty and insatiable desire for knowledge, fearing nothing but a letter grade lower than an A-plus.
Although nerd is but a four-letter word, the title eventually comes with a six-figure income (Gates, Jobs, Zuckerberg, to namedrop a few). Even fictional nerds have gained iconic status in modern culture (see: Steve Urkel). Sure, you might have given a nerd a swirly or two back in junior high, but wait a couple years and hope that nerd isn’t the one in charge of your paycheque.