While I am remarkably good at introspection, how my friends see me from the outside is probably more pertinent. They tend to perceive me as whimsical, brilliant, and pedantic; loving but inscrutable; amusing but initially reserved. I am clearly an anachronism in many ways, though opinions differ on whether I am currently residing in the wrong century or merely the wrong decade. In many ways I can be both predictable and mysterious at once. People rarely know what I'm thinking, but they often know what I will decide. Those who enjoy enigmata in another person often find the invariably fruitless journey to reverse-engineer my psyche fascinating.

Initially I am reserved and reticent, but my natural tendency is to be extraordinarily affectionate in general and passionate in private. I am far too trusting of others and have a tendency for self-abnegation. I was once accurately described as "infuriatingly accommodating," which I cannot truthfully deny.

I spend a lot of time in the company of other incisive minds: trading observations and witticisms, joking, debating, and enjoying the shared pleasures of conversation. My curiosity is natural and pervasive; if that trait is mirrored in someone else, then we are likely to become close.

By day I work at a respectable, cerebral, and enjoyable position as a de facto software architect; by night, I roam the rooftops in my cape and cowl seeking the evil minions of Nietzsche the 'Nihilator and his amoral criminal syndicate. (Note: I am not actually a superhero.)

Sometimes, between moonlit pursuits, I visit this site in my search for someone whose company I enjoy (and who enjoys mine). This is difficult, as most women my age are not looking for someone like me whatsoever, and I am generally disinclined towards dating those more than a few years older than myself.

I excel at exercising dry wit; holding analytical yet whimsical conversations late into the night; self-deprecation; maintaining a gentlemanly demeanor in a world that is quickly outmoding my already antiquated sensibilities; going prematurely grey; an unholy union of gravitas and irreverence; unnaturally mixing iambic trimeter and iambic tetrameter in poetry as a calculated affront to nature; abusing semicolons; surrounding myself with Victorian furniture and rotary phones; dividing by zero.

Editors

• snarkster

On the streets of Manhattan, most people mistake my [1940s-style] for Hasidic-Jew-style (even Jews!), so I am sometimes confused when people wish me a happy holiday on unfamiliar holy days or glare at me when I eat pepperoni pizza.

I'm also often accused of being British, since apparently I closely fit the conception of what British people should look like. This belief is not dispelled when I speak, since I grew up reading far too much Victorian literature.

I read science fiction and satirical fantasy for pleasure (especially Terry Pratchet's works), but pepper this with a steady stream of the classics. The Great Gatsby, Catch-22, the Sherlock Holmes novels and stories, and various works by Edgar Allan Poe and Samuel Taylor Coleridge have all been of interest to me. I avoid reading anything by Dostoevsky (ick!).

In movies, I prefer the quirky, wistful, and dramatically scientific. I like "Time Bandits" and "Brazil," "Steamboy," "Toys," "The Princess Bride," and the Claymation "The Adventures of Mark Twain." "Sky Captain and the World of Tomorrow" was enthralling, and while the movie was not particularly special the settings for The League of Extraordinary Gentlemen" made my aesthetic sense happy. I'd be a Steampunk devotee if I were actually a punk at all.

These days the only new band I keep up on is Alabama 3 (known as A3 in these United States). I'll probably track down some Kaizers Orchestra at some point, though. Other than this, primarily both classic rock and classical music if a piece in either genre is scored in a dramatic or melancholy minor key.

The likelihood of me liking a culinary dish is inversely proportional to how healthy it is.

The company of my close friends, my latest intellectual obsession of the day, gratuitous amounts of affection, mad science, more bookshelves, and more time!

Much of my thoughts revolve around my future, how I will find lasting happiness, and how I can practically pursue my interest in Gothic, Beaux-Arts, and Victorian architecture. Sometimes I busy my mind with designing an astonishing array of new methods for generating electricity through renewable means, submarines, orreries, and other overcomplicated devices. Sometimes I wonder if my life would be improved if I had a parrot, but considering how long they live that is virtually a lifelong commitment.

Seeking out a new Italian restaurant, exploring my new city of residence, and puzzling small children. (Seriously, any crying child under the age of eighteen months immediately becomes quiet and stares at me in total fascination when I walk past; it's beyond uncanny.)

I worry far more than is healthy about being a cause of unhappiness in people I care about. Also, I fear that I may be steadily becoming Jay Gatsby.

You should message me if you are looking for a whimsical and sarcastic intellectual: one who is a bottomless font of affection and passion when it is reciprocated. If you like your men overdressed and understated, polite, charming, honest, and individual. Instant messages are best; I invariably overanalyze and bungle the email-like messages on this site, but allow my natural personality to pervade real-time messages since I am then holding a conversation instead of a dissertation. Believe me, the difference is astonishing!

It might be a good idea to message me in the event that a significant proportion of the following traits describes you: you are either an intellectual or a vibrant conversationalist, have an affinity for the antiquated (but a modern and very adventurous sense of the prurient, wink wink!), think mad science is spiffy, think real science is spiffy, are a closet logical positivist, scoff at anything to do with Postmodernism and Deconstructivism (or, if not, want to win me over to your dark and unholy aesthetics through argument), and love the feeling in the air on tree-lined streets in October evenings.