…Theory, that is.

Thankfully, the hottest comedy on television doesn’t employ the use of the entire song by The Barenaked Ladies, because it was hard enough to lampoon what little I did. I am no Barenaked Lady, or Weird Al. However that song, and all its fun lyrics (the actual lyrics, not mine) are just one of the many things about the CBS show The Big Bang Theory that I enjoy. And I used to not be able to stand it. Like many things, my dislike for the show was based on the fact that I was ignorant of it.

To be even more fair to the show, I generally dislike most things on CBS on the whole. I find the comedies bland, the dramas repetitive, and if they attempt anything fun like a genre show I pretty much assume they’re ripping off a better show (I’m looking at you vampire detective show, Moonlight). I did give Under the Dome a shot, but quickly lost interest. I can say with most certainty I haven’t enjoyed CBS since the 90’s and their fun little Flash series.

Years ago, and I don’t remember how, a show about nerds doing nerdy things and trying to get girls made a blip go blippy-blip on my radar. I had some friends who were fans of the show since what I believe to be the very beginning of its airing, and I might have even watched part of an episode. I can only assume that I was in a phase of my life where I felt society at large was trying to co-opt nerd culture in some way, and that made me spiteful of “mainstream” creations such as The Big Bang Theory.

When I was a youngling, being a nerd was not celebrated. I didn’t sit with the popular kids at the lunch table because of my extensive knowledge of Star Trek. Then, at some point, something shifted. I’m not sure if it was that studios were finally making movies based on properties t nerds had enjoyed for decades, or perhaps the overall audience was finally embracing their inner nerd. Whatever the case, shit like Spider-man was popular and all the blondes on the cheerleading squad started wearing Mary Jane Watson t-shirts. It was sort of like there was a revolt against being a pretender to fit in. Though, for me and my friends it was too late as we were starting our lives in the real world where crap like cliques don’t matter (as much). Plus, most of my friends were nerd peers of some sort, anyway.

It isn’t odd then that a nerd would be wary of a show like Big Bang, especially coming from the creator of the one of the dumbest comedies ever conceived, Two and a Half Men. I chided my friends who enjoyed Big Bang, and told them it didn’t represent nerds. We wouldn’t be wearing the stuff they wore (a Green Lantern shirt for $70??), and it sounded like it was written by people who thought they knew what being a nerd was, for people who had no clue what being a nerd was.

Then I grew up. My outlook went from one of a-holes trying to horn in on my action, to maybe they were all finally listening to what other nerds and myself were telling them for so long- this stuff is awesome. It wasn’t like it was a conscious decision, it just seemed to happen. And it affected the way I enjoyed a few things. Big Bang was one that got the benefit of that change, and was one of the things that prompted it as well.

I watched the show. TBS had started airing reruns, and while I was sick (I think) I happened to catch a few. In my delirium, I enjoyed it, and was surprised by the references they employed during the storytelling and the humor. I found myself wondering how many people in the general audience even liked the show, because they couldn’t quite possible be catching half of the things that were there. How many yokels on their couch are going to know what in the hell Red Dwarf is??

The show won me over, plain and simple. When I took the time to delve into it, I identified with the characters (a nerd in a non-nerd world), discovered references for some beloved properties (across all types of media), and a show that was funny as hell. It was essentially a shoe is on the other foot type of moment. Here I was, someone who was in a group trying to tell others about all these things they were missing out on, and that they misunderstood, and now the role was reversed and I had to listen to others, finding that I was the one missing out when it came to this show.

I joined the ranks of literally millions of people who watch every Thursday. Or, Saturday after we DVR the sucker. In the time I’ve watched it, and rewatched the reruns again and again, I can say there are only a few times where I’ve thought the writers have repeated themselves. Otherwise, it doesn’t really drag anything out, and doesn’t seem to retread much if anything at all. Hopefully that continues being the case going forward, because the show has been renewed for three more seasons.

The move by CBS to take Big Bang to at least ten seasons is no surprise. Really, it’s as no-brainer as you can get. The show has ranked as the number one sitcom since the 2010-2011 season, according to CNN, and currently averages 19.79 million viewers. That number is up four percent from last year. Many shows can’t say the same.

What I’m saying, if I’m saying anything at all, is get on the Big Bang train (that’s for Sheldon). Either the show is a reflection of how nerd culture has been hijacked by the mass audience, or the nerds have invaded and finally proved how wonderful a world it is when you dig into caped crusaders and alien beings. No matter which it is, we are not only sitting at the popular lunch table, but we are commanding it. And our knowledge of Star Trek will probably let us in on more of the jokes.

I put a hand on her shoulder and replied, “You’ve taken your first step into a larger world.”

If the word “shipping” makes you think of incoherent sobbing, overwhelming emotions, and really dirty porn, I imagine you’re probably nodding and making noises of agreement, right now. If, on the other hand, you’re confused about what feelings and porn have to do with FedEx and handling fees, this post is for you.

Say there’s a TV show that you like, and the Protagonist has a boring and lazy will-they-won’t-they romantic thing with the Love Interest. You and most of the people who watch the show cannot wait for Protagonist and Love Interest to get together, and sometimes you talk to other viewers about the romance and what you’d like to see happen between the two characters. When the almost-couple shares a moment on-screen, you squee.*

That, my friend, is shipping at its most basic. You’re a fan of a text (show, movie, book, etc.), and you’re invested, to whatever extent, in the romantic relationship between two characters. Congratulations, you are a shipper.

Okay, now, wait a second. I can hear you rolling your eyes and saying, well, obviously I’m invested in that relationship; that’s what a story’s supposed to do. Sure, okay, if the writers are doing their job, then of course you should be pulling for those characters to get together.

How about this: the Protagonist on your show also has a Best Friend, with whom they spend a lot of time and go on lots of adventures. They have really great chemistry, and, as the show goes on, you start to wonder if maybe it would be cool if they weren’t just friends. Maybe they could be friends and make out, too. Maybe you spend a lot of time thinking about this. Maybe it gets to the point where you have a hard time imagining either character hooking up with anybody else.

You have now discovered your first One True Pairing, or OTP. Well done.

But wait! In season three, Love Interest also develops more of a personality and is allowed to grow as a character, renewing your interest in seeing Love Interest and Protagonist live happily ever after! You don’t want to let go of the great love between Protagonist and Best Friend, though, so maybe you start to imagine… things… like the three of them… together. At this point, you might be having a shipping crisis, but, at times like this, it helps to remember the fannish saying: The only resolution to a love triangle is a threesome.

Sound good? Good. You now have what we like to call an OT3. Feel free to increase the number as needed.

At this point, some of you are probably wondering if I’ve lost touch with reality. Sure, I admit, a polyamorous relationship isn’t likely to show up on mainstream American television any time soon, but that’s the point of shipping.

As of a casual study run in August of 201, out of the twenty-five most-written relationships on the Archive of Our Own (AO3), all but two were romantic relationships between two men. I probably don’t have to tell you that there’s not a lot of gayness running around in most mainstream western media, and, of those twenty-three ships, only two are explicitly canon (i.e. featured in the published text). So that gives us twenty-one sets of boyfriends with hundreds of thousands of words written about them and little-to-no official basis for even existing.**

So, why? Why do we invest so much time and energy in something that will probably never be acknowledged outside of a relatively small community? The simplest answer, in general, is because we can, with the additional justification: because we want to. Fan fiction gives audiences a space in which to express and play with ideas and desires that can’t or won’t be given a voice elsewhere, often because they focus on marginalized types of relationships.

There are a lot of factors at work in the wonderful world of shipping, but one I want to mention is the ladies. That is, the vast majority of fan fiction writers and readers (and the simple majority of media consumers) are women. By contrast, the vast majority of media creators and producers are men, which means, however you slice it, that women’s perspectives straight up aren’t getting shown in any significant way. The answer, obviously, is for women to take the stories we love and make them into whatever we want them to be.

Apparently, what we want them to be is lots of attractive men crying and giving each other blow jobs. Which, y’know, there are worse choices.

*If I have to explain to you what “squee” is, you have no joy in your life, and I pity you.

**My personal OTP comes in at number nineteen, and the two characters have had a grand total of one interaction on-screen. Forty-seven seconds FTW!