I am a nerd. I am a big giant nerd covered in nerd sauce, with a light dusting of nerd flakes on top and a side of nerdy fries. Over time, this character trait has come to manifest itself in some very specific and seemingly unlikely ways, largely through a love of spaceships, aliens, time travel, Star Wars, Doctor Who, Babylon 5, Battlestar Galactica, Ray Bradbury, Robert Heinlein, and Neil Gaiman that manages to coexist with my simultaneous distaste for, say, math and physics. My parents undoubtedly knew about my affinities from a fairly early age, and were surely confirmed in their suspicions when my choice of leisure pursuit was playing with my AT-AT while wearing an oversized tshirt with a giant airbrushed snake on the front. Oh sure, I survived middle school and learned to pass as a normalish adult who speaks in reasonable, calm tones about Joss Whedon, but my nerd streak remains.
My feelings toward fictional depictions of nerds, therefore, are perhaps stronger than a critic should admit. I love the show Chuck, which I think depicts a nerd hero in a way that enables Chuck Bartowski to be both relatable and admirable. He hid his awesome secret plans on the back of his Tron poster. He is smart, friendly, and socially competent while also appreciating video games, computer systems, and the finer points of science fiction trivia. Chuck is impressive and lovable. He is also a giant nerd. So on the one hand, you’ve got a fictional nerd-hero like Chuck…