Consider, first, the sheer dedication involved in being a LEGO nut. Sure, it takes a certain amount of devotion to be, say, a Star Wars junkie, but really all you're doing most of the time is sitting, collecting various Lucas-brand arcana, absorbing useless trivia, and occasionally dressing up like a Jawa. As an AFOL, though, simple enthusiasm isn't enough—one must create. At Brickfest, the focus was not necessarily on the product itself (though a bunch of current and vintage LEGO sets were available for sale) but the mini-monuments to man's architectural ingenuity born from its interlocking design: a working roller coaster; a slot machine; a replica of a steel bridge and the Space Needle; a massive fortress that began three years ago and is continually expanding. This isn't just fetishism. It's art. An incredibly dorky brand of art, but art nonetheless.
See TONS of amazing Brickfest photos after the jump.
But here's the biggest reason why LEGO deserves perhaps the highest rank of nerdicality: It is the only geek community that can contain all other brands of geek. You'll never see Trekkies at a Wookie convention; beneath the ceiling of the OCC, however, sci-fi freaks mingled with World of Warcraft obsessives, model railroad aficionados brushed up against classic car enthusiasts, pirate supporters shook hands with pirate backers. It was a vision of utopia—a Nerdvana, if you will. No wonder the Danes never seem to be angry with anyone.
Here's a walk through this blocky Eden: