My interest in comic books, science fiction and other nerdy endeavors has been poorly timed out throughout my life. I loved X-Men and roleplaying games in my formative years but soon focused on football and academics in high school. I have revisited these interests in my early adulthood but I didn’t realize that there was a revolution taking place. Nerds have taken to the streets along with geeks and dweebs in search of the respect that they have never received from America’s jock culture.

The only problem I have with the nerd revolution in the 21st century is the bile that nerds have toward the non-nerd world. People that love comic books can now walk the streets without worrying about the repercussions of wearing a Flash T-shirt or carrying a stack of new comics. There is no need to lash out violently or go on and on about the level of your geekdom. You are part of popular culture now. I say all of this with the recent release of Patton Oswalt’s Werewolves and Lollipops in mind.

I love Patton Oswalt’s comedy but there is something underneath his material that bothers me. The aforementioned uprising of the disenfranchised has turned into a brazen flaunting of nerd culture that borders on elitism. Oswalt certainly fits in with other comics lumped under the “alternative” label because of his anger at popular culture. The average TV viewer may know Oswalt for his performance on the terrible sitcom King of Queens starring some fat comedian and a good looking actress with a New York accent. His rising profile in the comedian world means that a greater number of people are recognizing him for his comedy instead of this bit role. His performance on Werewolves and Lollipops shows the conflict between this popularity and staying true to alternative roots.

By and large, Werewolves and Lollipops is hilarious and irreverent enough to keep my attention. The series of tracks including “Racist Cell Phones” and “Sterling, Virginia” is poignant for anyone that grew up in a conservative, sometimes backward city. His discussion of script “punch-ups” for animated features on “Wackity Schmakity Doo!” may have the title of an Adam Sandler joke but it is just plain funny. There is a high level of sharpness to Oswalt’s humor in tracks like “Cirque du Soleil” where he offers a tight intro-body-conclusion style to his discussion of red states and blue states.

The parts where Oswalt does not succeed in Werewolves and Lollipops are areas where he delves too much into his nerdy roots. “You Are Allowed 20 Birthday Parties” is a fine track for fans of mainstream comedy but it seems out of place in this album. Oswalt was performing his routine in multiple venues but it seems like the routine stalls a bit when he goes into his discussion of which parties you can celebrate. His section on George Lucas and the Star Wars prequels is mildly funny but it symbolizes my problem with comics that belay their nerd roots. I hated the prequels just as much as the next person but I also understand the lure of the prequel for George Lucas. Oswalt complains that he doesn’t want to know where the things he loves come from which I imagine is a bit tongue and cheek. If this statement is true, however, it is disconcerting because it shows a lack of self-reflection among nerds that has helped gradually diminish the influence of macho men in American culture.

The album Werewolves and Lollipops is a relief for fans that wanted another Patton Oswalt album to follow up the success of Comedians of Comedy. I know that my analysis here is a bit stringent and I am clearly biased against nerd culture in its current state. The only reason I have applied such a strong lens to Werewolves and Lollipops is that the nerd revolution needs to be scrutinized in the same way as other pop culture phenomena.