As a geek, there are many times when I encounter something that I appreciate on a very geeky level, and I want to share that joy with everyone around me. Then I pause and reconsider: it is unlikely that those you wish to spread this love with will appreciate or even understand your own happiness, let alone participate in it.
When I was watching a recent episode of Family Guy, it ended with a reference to Star Trek: The Next Generation. The episode in question played more than 17 years ago (yes, I looked it up), but it was so powerful that it still played in my mind, and seeing it unexpectedly included at the end of this episode, and in a way that was faithful to the original, brought back all the excitement and jubilation I had at age 10 when I saw the original with my father. I could hardly wait for the conclusion!
I am sitting here watching this episode, at work on an iPod, on headphones. I almost squeal in giddy delight when I heard the same music I heard back in 1990, and I take off my headphones, because I just HAVE to tell somebody. So to whom do I turn? My other geek buddy. He's a Family Guy fan as well, but even he did not get the reference, and he sensed that I was about to explode with excitement if I didn't share this information with someone, so he graciously allowed me to tell him the details of the reference. He told me that, indeed, he did not get that reference. Then I smiled stupidly and skipped back to my desk.
This is definitely not the first time that this has happened. Yesterday, I was reading a webcomic, xkcd, and they used a character who was featured in an old comic a few months back. I thought that was interesting, enough to verbally call out "Oh shit!" Then my wife asked me from the other room what was going on, and knowing that I would be wasting both my wife's time and my own, I told her that she would not care. She knew exactly what was happening, and continued playing Dracula X on her PSP.
Yes, she is a geek too, but a different kind of geek, so we get along pretty well.
When the South Park story arc Imaginationland was shown, it was nothing but references to fictional characters from all genres of creation. You can imagine what kind of a mental geek orgy that was. Of course, the problem with that episode was that it was so utterly random in its inclusion of characters that without context, it is impossible to effectively convey the significance of these characters in the story. Thus, I was unable to share my geek joy with anyone except other South Park fans.
This is why conventions are so popular: Geek culture is a wonderful hybrid of mainstream entertainment and underground nerdiness, so when someone proposes that geeks gather to share their love of something with each other, they are so starved for release of this joy that they attend in droves. As the popularity of this subject grows, it crosses over from geek elite to popular culture, spawning comradery, creativity, and fellowship and exactly what geeks, nay, what all people truly crave from society: acceptance.
To all those I will encounter in the future, I hope you will excuse me while I possibly make you feel disconnected, uncomfortable, and annoyed. I hope that you will recognize the random happiness that I am experiencing right now is merely an alien giddiness within me overflowing out of its bottle. Do you want some? Show me your secret decoder ring and speak to me in a fictional language so we can laugh at all the other people who didn't see that episode!