By banishing computers from their lives, Erasmus's reclusive colleagues are able to nourish what he calls "attention surplus disorder," the ability to focus on and think about one thing for a long time. Erasmus's order passes its trains of thought from generation to generation — a Church of the Long Now.

By contrast, the video and telecom-addled civilization that bustles outside their walls is full of shallow and incorrect knowledge. People who've never taken time to study anything feel they know everything. Constantly distracted by their jangling electronic gizmos, they can't comprehend the powerful ideas and complex systems wrought by thousands of years of civilization. Their smart machines make them dumb. Inevitably, they look to the cloistered nerds to save them.

I've pledged not to do a review until September 9th, but I'll tell you Stephenson's worldview is contagious from page one. It's been following me around in the real world — I haven't hated normal people this much since I was an MIT freshman. You say you're a "geek?" Let's see you unplug your iPhone for a month. Surely you have something more interesting to do.

I have to think Card's work also resonated with another demographic of kids who felt set apart from the crowd: Gay teenagers. Which makes Card's antigay screed, published in the Mormon Times, all the more hurtful. Card, a practicing Mormon, says he's against gay marriage. But he's really against gays, period — and thinks we should overturn the U.S. government to put his views into practice.

No matter how sexually attracted a man might be toward other men, or a woman toward other women, and no matter how close the bonds of affection and friendship might be within same-sex couples, there is no act of court or Congress that can make these relationships the same as the coupling between a man and a woman. This is a permanent fact of nature.

If Card really meant "the same as," I'd actually find that statement hard to disagree with; there are aspects of gay relationships which differ from straight ones. But what Card really means is that gay relationships are not as good as straight ones — and that's just hateful.

AfterElton.com, in an editorial, deftly shreds Card's argument to pieces. It mostly makes me feel sad to see such a brilliant imaginer of worlds incapable of empathy on such a basic issue.

So what does this mean for Ender's Game, which Marvel is now turning into a comic-book series, after which a big Hollywood movie seems inevitable? It is a surpassingly fine work. Though the hero is schooled for warfare, he ultimately learns empathy for those who are different. Perhaps Card should read it himself.