Finding your tribe as a human being is both easier and more difficult than ever, thanks to the internet. The cool thing about having my name publicly stamped as an MST fan so young, is that every few years, I make a connection with another human over it. And somehow, that human is always just excellent.

Like the humans Luke and Max, the quiet art kids I admired but thought were too cool to be my friend in school, approaching me after class one day and asking if I was “THE Ashley Holtgraver, you know… from MST?” We started hanging out, went on to found the illustrious extracurricular group “Pizza Club” together, and still keep in touch years later — they are both teachers and makers and artists, and I am proud to call them friends.

Or my husband, Charlie, also an excellent human. We watched the Giant Spider Invasion episode on our first real date — an event that occurred over 10 years after our first meeting. We could have lost touch with each other at any given moment over those years, but the few trading-card-style factoids I knew about Charlie were all just too good to lose track of — and one of those was that he fell asleep watching MST3k every night.

The point is that we nerds can have a hard time finding our people, and I think that’s why fandoms can be so popular with us. They’re weird shortcuts to finding the other teeny tiny percentage of humans whom you can really grok in this world.

Kurt Vonnegut drew this

To throw another science fiction reference out there — I’ve always loved the fictional religion of Bokononism, dreamed up by Kurt Vonnegut in Cat’s Cradle. In it, he describes a “karass” — a group of people with a true, genuine connection to each other. He also talks about a “granfalloon” — a false karass; people who believe they are linked but in truth just have similar likes and dislikes.

There’s nothing wrong with a good granfalloon, and simply enjoying “our show” puts MSTies in that camp at first glance.

But I think MSTies are a karass. Or at least, they can be (if you’re willing to stretch the definition a bit). Like any show, we can have the fun of trading references and geeking out over details. These simple pleasures of just enjoying something together are lovely, but there is a deeper connection I’ve experienced to be made over MST. I have a theory it has to do with creativity and humility.

In my family, “MSTing” became the action form of renting a movie for the sole purpose of us all making fun of it together. The Invention Exchange became a hallowed pastime for me and my siblings growing up, and I find it useful in my creative work today to try channel the type of blue sky thinking we’d employ coming up with great ideas like “Toy Poodle Stilts” and a chimney swimming pool for Santa to enjoy. And of course, I know that by and large, people who like MST will enjoy a similar brand of humor as me. They’ll be snarky, but always root for the underdog. There’s a real warmth underneath the biting wit of most MSTies I’ve met.