Dangerous Geek Diary

I’ve been thinking about the company I’ve kept over the years, and I’ve realized that despite the perception of the stereotypical nerd, some of the most crazed, depraved and downright dangerous individuals I’ve ever met were of the geek persuasion. Their lives were, in fact, much more like something you’d see in Bukowski than in Bradbury.

Amid the sagas of crashed cars, and totaled hotel rooms, of reparations extracted from ex-lovers and ex-bosses, I think the most surreal of all may have been the story of L. and the DeathSmurf.

L. was (and still is) an artist by trade. At the time, he was a bit of a fledgling at it, but he was living the dream, making money in the science fiction/fantasy field. Well, to be fair, he’d been doing that for some time, but counterfeiting convention badges doesn’t quite count. However, in the early stages of most professions, the money does not quite flow in the rivers we’d like, so L. was in the same boat as many of us – looking for cheap places to live, scrimping along, and resigned to not dealing with the most kindly of landlords.

I don’t know what set off this particular problem, and why L. took it so personally. But the one thing Dangerous Geeks have in common is a mean streak a mile wide when they’re mad, whether they’re loud about it or not, and L. was a classic example of the breed. He decided to move out, but he was going to take someone’s sanity with him.

Around moving day, L. trotted down to the art supply shop and bought a large supply of specialty paint that contained a component of acidic material. He went home and proceeded to paint a giant, glaring, Smurf-Head-of-Doom, replete with flaming skulls for eyes, on the bedroom wall. After it had dried, he applied a layer or two of regular white latex wall paint, cleaned up his work area, and vacated the premises for the last time.

Article Author: NeoJess Jones

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