I am, of course, no different. I wax rhapsodic about the literary miniatures of Gilles Deleuze, I can talk for hours about why the designated hitter rule is a godsend, and I even bore myself going on and on about MODOK. But show me anything that had its origin in the brain of Joss Whedon and my mind becomes a peaceful and utter blank. I watched "Buffy the Vampire Slayer" for a few months and quickly grew bored, mostly because it wasn't as funny as the movie. I watched "Angel" twice and thought it was terrible. "Firefly" was pretty good the two times I saw it, but not so good that I've ever bothered to see if it's even still on the air. And in every interview with the Buffy godhead I've ever read (which is to say, three), he comes across as an utter prick.
And yet there seem to be a huge number of people who devote a large portion of of their lives to discussing the minutiae of this man's work. A Google search for "Buffy quiz" yields more pages than there are in "Ulysses", "The Sound and the Fury", and the Holy Bible combined. I don't get it. For me, Buffy fans occupy the same universe as Trekkies, goths and anime freaks: adjacent to my own lit-funnybook-nerdcore dimension, but not likely to receive a lot of tourists in the near future.
Do I judge? Of course I do. Am I a hypocrite? Of course I am. Do I have a point? Of course I don't.