Nerds give it up for free

A lot of my colleagues at Vice have been getting obsessed with geeks dressing up recently, be they Japanese or Brazilian, so, when I went to MCM at the weekend, I looked for something which, rather than expressing each costumer’s individuality, would exhibit a sense of togetherness. I found hugs. Maybe you’ve already heard of the “Free Hugs” meme. Invented from a single memeogenesis in 2004, it was the subject of a breakout YouTube video in 2006, briefly popping up on Oprah that year too. Occasionally, you might have occasionally glimpsed one or two disciples holding up “Free Hugs” placards at a railway station or suchlike. But in addition to being the nerd Kaaba, MCM is also probably the biggest annual manifestation of the hugs movement in the world. How many exactly? Well, I’m glad you asked that question…

These are just a random scattering from Sunday afternoon. Around 10 percent of all attendees are involved – which equals many hundreds.

“It’s never the prettiest girl in a group,” supplied Tom, a friend, exhibitor, and veteran of past events. “The less-pretty girls offer it to give them an edge over the prettier girls, who can afford to be far more choosy. The boys offer hugs to show how affectionate and non-threatening they are to the girls.”

None of the attendees we spoke to could provide a proper explanation for why they were doing it. Some hazarded something about having seen it on YouTube. Most had just seen it at previous events and latched on. Indeed, no one was quite sure as to whether technically it was meant as a request for free hugs, or a statement of being prepared to offer free hugs. Either way, no cash changes hands, so it’s probably all legal. Almost all estimated their daily hug totals were upwards of 50 or 100.

But what quality of hug can you expect from the general public? As long-time consumer champions, it fell to us to press the nerdflesh and road test what was on offer. Results varied.

Quality of hug: Diminutive. Too much chin.
Rating: 5/10

Quality of hug: Querying. Sensed she had once been spurned by “great love of her life” and was wary of falling in love all over again too soon.
Rating: 6/10

Quality of hug: Too orange. Kept talking throughout hug experience, which is degrading. Carrier bag also thwacked arse mid-hug.
Rating: 4/10

Quality of hug: Needy. But I like needy.
Rating: 7/10

Quality of hug: Not really trying.
Quality of yaoi: Average.
Overall rating: 5/10

The sign, in case you can’t make it out, says “Free Necrophilia”.

Quality of necrophilia: Taboo-shatteringly good.
Rating: 9/10

These girls were locked in a brutal hugging competition with each other. Their respective scores are notched up on the board. The black girl had slightly less than the white one. What does this say about our society?

Quality of hugs: Rivalrous.
Rating: 7.67/10 – 7.68/10

This lot had a ceremonial dagger. After the hugging ceremony, you were expected to ritually plunge the knife into their pockmarked sign.

Quality of hug: Tempestuous. Possibly psychotic.
Rating: 8/10

I met up with Bill & Ted, and we had a big group-hug, then played Twister with Death, which was OK.

Quality of hug: Anonymous. Immature. Not enough tongue. Felt like I was being lead-on.
Quality of rape: Traumatic.
Rating: 2/10

The guy who started the whole shebang goes under the pseudonym “Juan Mann” (gedditt?!?). According to his website, he was living in London in ’04 when his Australian mum died. Flying back to Sydney, he went vaguely crackers and made the first sign the same day on a whim, hawking his message up the high streets to no one, until, he says, one lady whose dog had just died on the anniversary of her daughter’s death poured out her troubles into his open arms. From there he exported his gospel to the world. Which is a nice, though probably false, story.

Of course it’d be easy to scoff at him and his army of huggies. But actually taking the temperature of their scene turned out to be an entirely positive experience. It’s free love for the safe sex generation: the idea that if we can change the way we relate to our body-politics we can change the way the world works is eternally seductive. Forty years ago, they would’ve been doing primal scream therapy and taking off their clothes at rock festivals to sublimate the ego. This is just a version of that for a more modestly ambitious flat-pack generation. They’re neither self-righteous hippies nor self-admiring flashmobbers. They just want to connect.

Ultimately, CMC is the kind of place where you can find acceptance in this unforgiving world. No matter who you are…