"Eureka!" I cried.
All the years I had labored and tried
Had at last peaked in glorious fruition!
A flash, a bang, a sudden premonition:
No more glasses to wear,
No more wedgies to bear,
Soon Gunther and Sven would dominate the dating scene!
I had done what so many goofballs could not:
I, and I alone, isolated the dork gene.
Chess players the world 'round
Would rejoice, when they discovered I found
The source of their zits
The cure for sweaty pits
Deep voices in store,
Superfluous athletic ability and what's more
They would no longer think Leia was the bee's knees.
I took my new message of hope
To those who rarely use soap
And awaited their eager expectation
Of the gene's removal and their subsequent social mutation.
"Dungeons and Dragons no more!
"Magic: the Gathering's a bore!
"Your computer will soon gather dust!"
"Come throw the football a bit
"And with the cheerleaders sit
"The old world order's now bust!"
I am slightly ashamed,
That none of them came.
Then I took a closer look
At these creatures often mistook
For social misfits, desperate in their plight.
I was surprised by the sight
That so many were pleased with who they are,
Watching the jocks from afar.
And so I now hold my tongue.
Why disturb those content?
Why change those whom God sent
To balance out the rugged and mean?
No, I thought, much better instead,
To leave those with o'er-inflated heads
And let them be proud of their Star Trek action figure collection.
Others will score touchdowns, and they will proudly continue
To program, duel and execute organized grasshopper dissection.
