Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

Independent Student Newspaper Since 1969

The Badger Herald

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Dweebs, geeks and spazzes

Is it necessary that, if one runs with the bulls, he grow those very horns that prick so many fleeing Spaniards in the rumpus? Or could a cow or even a horse sneak into that crowd and chase with the same ferocity? For my colleagues’ sake, and me let us hope the latter.

In entertainment journalism there is a sort of physical understanding — a combination of dress code and attitudinal outline by which many of us abide. We tend to walk and talk like Randy Quaid and our manners might be likened to that of a Tyrannosaurus Rex. One might even contend that this rather accurate stereotype spans across all print journalism. Not television folk, but anyone who hides his awkwardness behind a newspaper.

I’ve witnessed, firsthand, the girth that is the ton-of-fun, Roger Ebert, and the nerdy lankiness of the late Gene Siskel. There is, of course, the comical caricature of a white Don King (Gene Shalit) and the spastic presence of Chicago’s Jeffery Lyons. Together, they form a celebrity version of dweebs, geeks and spazzes that rivals even that great “Saturday Night Live” sketch. And these are the ones beautiful enough to make it onto television.

On the front lines of entertainment journalism, where the reporting and the badgering and the real action takes place, the story is no different.

This weekend, I had the good fortune of being able to sneak into substantial portions of the press junket for the upcoming Jack Black comedy “Orange County” and an early screening of Cameron Crowe’s “Vanilla Sky” — the second movie in the past month to completely alter my negative opinion of a director, the first being “Mulholland Drive.” What I saw — and this is nothing new, merely the most recent example — only reconfirmed my past gatherings.

At the first screening, a rather portly fellow who very well may have been Internet gossip king Harry Knowles, waddled his way down to a love seat that he filled rather snugly. Somewhere wedged between his two sodas and tub of popcorn was a tape recorder for the following press conference, a few sheets of crumpled paper — or maybe they were napkins — and I couldn’t help but notice the bag of candy as well. Not the typical prepackaged movie theater kind, but the type that you weigh out by the pound. This was a lunch bag size, and it was full quite nearly to the brim with M&Ms.

Behind us, two eye-glassed teenagers debated the finer points of adapting the “Lord of the Rings” trilogy, intertwining Hobbit lingo and fantasy terms in a showdown of J.R. Tolkien fanaticism.

Back on our bus to the 34th Street Loews theater, one might have thought he had stumbled into a social skills disability meeting. Awkward college editors practiced their best get-to-know-someone skills with the timid trepidation of a freshman at his first kegger.

Suddenly, I felt a little bad for these kids. Why are we entertainment writers? For every sports writer, there is a sports fanatic within living out his dream by interviewing and mingling with his childhood heroes. I think the same goes for movie critics and arts editors. We are film buffs, Star Wars geeks and Trekkies. We are hip hop heads, TV addicts, bookworms and mallrats. We were raised and molded by movies, and our very favorite babysitter was the television. Our most detailed memories aren’t even our own, but scenes played out by Jack Nicholson, Humphrey Bogart and Harrison Ford — the people we wish we were. Our true loves don’t even exist in real life, and we have emotional relationships with cartoon characters.

Call it an excuse, but don’t call it pathetic. This is who and why we are what we are. Dweebs, geeks and spazzes.

Adam Duerson

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