Can I call you Mike? I hope you don't mind. You see, I think of us as friends. And our friendship might be one-sided, since I know some stuff about you but all you know about me is that I'm probably not really a caterpillar. But I still think it's a pretty decent friendship. I'd help you out in a jam. I'd even help you make jam, if you want. My grandmother has a great recipe for jam.
You're probably wondering why your old pal the Social Caterpillar is writing to you. You see, I've been kind of terrified this past week that you were sitting at home Googling yourself like everyone knows every famous person always does, and you stumbled upon my post about comics.
There is a roughly 0.427 % chance you found it and bothered to read it, but that is enough of a chance that I'm scared I may have offended you. If you did read it, you might think I don't like you, and I'm really worried that maybe if you saw me in the street you'd turn your back on me. Well, you probably don't know what I look like, but you might see me and I'd say "HOLY POTATOES IT'S MICHAEL CERA," and you'd say "Oh hi, you beautiful, sexy, clearly hilarious and obviously brilliant fan of mine! I'm glad you're a fan, not like that Social Caterpillar jerkbitch who thinks I suck." And then I would have to lie, Mike. Lie to you, who is my friend. And I'm not that kind of person! So I'm clearing things up once and for all. Please let me explain.
Here's the thing, Mike: You rock. You are awesome and funny and even a little bit adorable. I first met you through Superbad, and I was like, hey, this guy's pretty rad and no one has ever sang so beautifully for a crowd of aggressive cokeheads. Then Juno came along, and I realized you and I have the same taste in awesome people because you were working with Ellen Freaking Page and she rules. And finally, I did the thing I've been meaning to do for years and watched the full Arrested Development series, and oh my God, Mike. You are just so funny. You made incest seem almost palatable. And I feel like our friendship is blossoming into something great, although I still haven't seen Nick & Norah's Infinite Playlist. But I will. I'm a good friend. (And then, maybe, you should keep reading my blog because that's what friends do, Mike, and I could really use a celebrity follower.)
But sadly, not everyone understands. I don't agree that the fanboys should look down on you, but I know that lots of them do. I don't really know why it's so trendy to hate on you, Mike. But it is. And I think that's just terrible! You're funny and I think you're probably pretty smart and you definitely have the sweet-and-bashful awkward boy thing going for you, but for some reason you're not garnering the geek chic respect of, like, Jesse Eisenburg.
I think I might have an inkling as to the cause of this unjustified public opinion. The non-Arrested-Development crowd (which is, let's face it, most of the world) was mostly turned on to you through Superbad. And that movie was funny, Mike. That movie managed to take the never-as-good-since-the-first-movie American Pie formula and do something with it that other, more terrible movies have been trying to do for like a decade. It had sex, but the guys going after the sex weren't creepy asshat dumbwads. It had pretty ladies, but the pretty ladies were also funny and gross just like the guys, and that told us we didn't have to settle for Tara Reid. It had heartwarming friendship. And most importantly, it had lovable losers: the John Hughesian golden standard of high school movies. And one of those lovable losers was you.
It seems you've fallen into the lovable loser trap, though, Mike, and that means some of the world is growing weary of your adorable awkwardness and frightened wimp schtick. You've taken the geek chic thing farther than some people could handle from you. Jesse Eisenburg managed to dig his heels into highbrow drama with The Social Network - and he was still playing a geek, but the Facebook guy is probably the chic-est geek out there - but you've stayed true to your nerdy comedies and arty romance flicks. And you're good at it, Mike! Never be ashamed of what you do. But sadly, you're becoming a little typecast. I won't hold that against you, though; because we're friends and even if you do always play the same part, you do it way better than, like, Bruce Willis could do it. Bruce Willis could probably kick your ass, but you could out-awkward him any day!
So since we're friends, Mike, I wanted to clear that up with you. I think you're rad. And I'm sorry I was a little embarrassed about you in front of the comic store people. That was wrong of me. I may not have read the books, but I still thought you made a great Scott Pilgrim, and I mean, you could definitely kick my ass.
So please don't judge me on my comics post. I really don't think I could handle it if you didn't like me. Because not only are you awesome, but you could also introduce me to Ellen Page and Seth Rogen and all kinds of other super awesome actors from Canada and then the four of us could form an allegiance of Smart And Funny Canadians Who Will Save the World Stereotypically Through Politeness, Maple Syrup and Hockey (or, simply, SAFCWWSTWSTPMSAH).
You see? The fanboys should leave you alone - cause that is golden. And I made a picture of us to prove to you how sweet our SAFCWWSTWSTPMSAH adventures could be and how totally comics-worthy I think you really are.
And now you know what I look like. I'm the one in the middle who's not you. But you're smart, so you could probably figure that out.
Sincerely, your bestest friend ever,