True thirty year-old nerds:
Justin Morgalis.
After I flicked the back of his ear repeatedly in seventh grade Geography class, Justin grew a beer gut and became a computer systems integration analyst for CSC, who forced him to take an etiquette course to better hand clients. He wears discount golfing attire from strip-mall department stores and a Motorola clipped to his belt. When not resorting his online fantasy football roster from his suburban Atlanta home, he drives a Korean car.
Rick Ricardi.
Rick Ricardi's hairline receded in the ninth grade. His hirsute body, however, led him to Senior year back waxings. That same year an assistant basketball coach accidentally ran over Rick with a golf cart in P.E. class.
Forgotten Unknown Crazy Kid, 1986.
The Forgotten Crazy Kid carried a large briefcase to every class and never talked. The case was never opened and never left the FUCK's side. A bully confronted the FUCK in the hallway outside Pod A (Georgia was experimenting with unconventional class sub-structuring concepts in the 1980s) and demanded that the briefcase be opened. The FUCK mumbled no. The bully grabbed the briefcase's handle and fierce tugging ensued. Everyone gathered around like it was a cockfight. We all wanted to know what was in the case, pity for FUCK or lust for the cool bully aside. The case burst open. Hundreds and hundreds of unsharpened pencils spilled onto the synthetic floor.
Brent DiCrescenzo.
Brent writes meta record reviews for an online magazine.
Pharrell Williams.
Pharrell Williams wears a diamond and gold skateboard around his neck. Ingrid Sisley kisses him on the cheek. Supermodels get his voice mail. In his spare time between writing worldwide pop hits as part of the Neptunes production duo, Pharrell records funk-rock with falsetto lyrics like, "Unzip your skirt, take off your blouse," and, "I fucked you from behind," with his band, N.E.R.D. Really, Pharrell Williams is no way a nerd. Not in the Eddie Deezen mold or the Harry Knowles mold or the Ramones mold.
Debating the validity of Pharrell Williams' bandname seems like a contentious trifle, but the dude continuously positions himself as a wide-reaching musicologist. In the press, he seems convinced that merely mentioning the fact his record collection contains Steely Dan, Chick Corea, Stereolab, and EPMD coupled to his role as producer of tracks for the likes of Britney Spears and Philly's Most Wanted makes him a pop prodigy crossover messiah. The name "N.E.R.D." arrogantly admits to a higher IQ, while excusing Williams' potentially embarrassing prog-R&B; hybrid as a goofy cult experiment. Sadly, like a tackle-shocked J.O.C.K., Fly or Die is stupid and boring.