- 935
Well, after reading Chaucer's The Canterbury Tales in English, we were given an assignment to write a short satire on some sort of stereotype present at school. I chose nerd. Sage'll have one of these as well sometime soon, and I'll bully him into posting it.
He spent the majority of his time secluded in a world of his own creation, only venturing forth to make the occasional correction to some minor detail presented in conversation. He was above the standard social hierarchal organization, as it was a simple contrivance of the equally simple minds of his contemporaries. Despite the obvious annoyance the assertion caused him, the boy, though he was above such petty distinctions of age, was considered a nerd. His obvious discomfort at his insertion into such a clique did not bother any of his tormentors, as they felt that the nerd could do them no substantial amount of harm. While the nerd was quite capable in the realm of electronic gaming, and was near the top rung of the ladder in the first person shooter genre, he cared not for his corporal appearance or bodily presence. Physical strength was far overrated, and he preferred his own mental superiority. The lack of defined musculature aside, the nerds physical appearance was still remarkably unimpressive. In fact, the only thing that was truly noticeable about the nerds outside appearance was the black, thick framed glasses that rested upon his nose. The lenses magnified his eyes to an astonishing degree, astonishing enough to distort the normal flow of conversation between him and anyone that he deemed worthy of bestowing his opinions upon. During normal discourse, the glasses were constantly repositioned, as the nerd tended to become extraordinarily nervous whenever he chose to partake in a discussion, and sweat would slicken his nose. The few people that could stand a minute of the nerds speech were left with a feeling of resentment; he needed to elaborate on every minor point, for there was no way for their minds to ever measure up to his vast intelligence. He always wore a pair of low quality slacks, the cloth composed of threads large enough to prove an irritant to the owner, and a pinstriped short-sleeved dress shirt with a pocket on the left side. The ensemble was always completed by a pair of worn brown loafers and a matching belt, the creases lightening the leather because the owner saw no need to shine either of them. The variance in the nerds style of dress was limited to an occasional slight differentiation in the hue of these pinstripes and the number and color of the pens within his ever-present pocket protector; when the nerd was in a surprisingly perky mood, which happened only on the date of the release of a faster CPU or a new set of graphics drivers, he hung a slide rule from his belt. The cracked brown leather of the eleven inch slide rules scabbard matched exactly with that of the nerds belt, giving the false appearance of constant use. In fact, the slide rule was a tool that was rarely needed by the young mathematical genius. He was capable of composing, simplifying, and solving even the most complex differential equations without even seeking the assistance of an outside device; the nerd rarely, if ever, even enlisted the help of a pen while performing the complex dance of numbers. The nerd delegated the study that would normally be attributed to other subjects to mathematics and its applications, the only true means of self expression. He worked with the fervor of a monk, studying and attempting to understand, rather than simply memorize by rote. He held many monastic values in high regard, and even remained celibate. Through that most certainly conscious decision, he maintained the separation from the world required to increase his already vast knowledge of all things mechanical, more specifically in his most favorite area of study, that of computers, and keep philosophical drivel from polluting his mind. The nerd was a prime citizen, perfectly humble and moral in every respect.
I love satire. I considered putting in paragraphs, but I'm tired, so I'll leave that for later. It's still readable.
He spent the majority of his time secluded in a world of his own creation, only venturing forth to make the occasional correction to some minor detail presented in conversation. He was above the standard social hierarchal organization, as it was a simple contrivance of the equally simple minds of his contemporaries. Despite the obvious annoyance the assertion caused him, the boy, though he was above such petty distinctions of age, was considered a nerd. His obvious discomfort at his insertion into such a clique did not bother any of his tormentors, as they felt that the nerd could do them no substantial amount of harm. While the nerd was quite capable in the realm of electronic gaming, and was near the top rung of the ladder in the first person shooter genre, he cared not for his corporal appearance or bodily presence. Physical strength was far overrated, and he preferred his own mental superiority. The lack of defined musculature aside, the nerds physical appearance was still remarkably unimpressive. In fact, the only thing that was truly noticeable about the nerds outside appearance was the black, thick framed glasses that rested upon his nose. The lenses magnified his eyes to an astonishing degree, astonishing enough to distort the normal flow of conversation between him and anyone that he deemed worthy of bestowing his opinions upon. During normal discourse, the glasses were constantly repositioned, as the nerd tended to become extraordinarily nervous whenever he chose to partake in a discussion, and sweat would slicken his nose. The few people that could stand a minute of the nerds speech were left with a feeling of resentment; he needed to elaborate on every minor point, for there was no way for their minds to ever measure up to his vast intelligence. He always wore a pair of low quality slacks, the cloth composed of threads large enough to prove an irritant to the owner, and a pinstriped short-sleeved dress shirt with a pocket on the left side. The ensemble was always completed by a pair of worn brown loafers and a matching belt, the creases lightening the leather because the owner saw no need to shine either of them. The variance in the nerds style of dress was limited to an occasional slight differentiation in the hue of these pinstripes and the number and color of the pens within his ever-present pocket protector; when the nerd was in a surprisingly perky mood, which happened only on the date of the release of a faster CPU or a new set of graphics drivers, he hung a slide rule from his belt. The cracked brown leather of the eleven inch slide rules scabbard matched exactly with that of the nerds belt, giving the false appearance of constant use. In fact, the slide rule was a tool that was rarely needed by the young mathematical genius. He was capable of composing, simplifying, and solving even the most complex differential equations without even seeking the assistance of an outside device; the nerd rarely, if ever, even enlisted the help of a pen while performing the complex dance of numbers. The nerd delegated the study that would normally be attributed to other subjects to mathematics and its applications, the only true means of self expression. He worked with the fervor of a monk, studying and attempting to understand, rather than simply memorize by rote. He held many monastic values in high regard, and even remained celibate. Through that most certainly conscious decision, he maintained the separation from the world required to increase his already vast knowledge of all things mechanical, more specifically in his most favorite area of study, that of computers, and keep philosophical drivel from polluting his mind. The nerd was a prime citizen, perfectly humble and moral in every respect.
I love satire. I considered putting in paragraphs, but I'm tired, so I'll leave that for later. It's still readable.
