II. You hate FOX and believe that your continued righteous anger will not destroy it for it is too powerful in its W&H-esque evil. Woe. Okay, it’s probably not a good idea to reopen this wound which still burns like vicious acid nearly six years after Firefly was abused sideways, upside down and back again, but we came back for more from FOX, we asked for a second crust of bread and got slapped on top of being served. Sure, FOX tried being nice this time, but it was the negligent sort of kindness that led to poor mismanaged marketing and common denominator ads that misrepresented Dollhouse. It ended badly, painfully, and you will nurse your wounds ‘til the end of time. Sometimes you wake up late at night cursing yourself for daring to have faith in FOX, but then you remember…
III. You hate all Network TV and you have good reason for the way it’s destroyed all your hopes and massacred your dreams. So let’s change the channel to cable or, better yet, watch this web-produced original content! (Oh wait, the Dr. Horrible sequel hasn’t happened yet…)
IV. You also hate Twilight. No, the other Twilight. Okay, you probably hate both Twilights, but I’m talking about Stephenie Meyer’s Twilight. (Or at the very least, you mock it in comparison to Buffy and Angel. But really, you should hate it, so let’s just pretend that you do. If you need directions to some Twi-mocking material to further strengthen your Twilight superiority, I’ll be happy to assist you with some linkage.)
But enough with the negative! There’s also some serious pros to add up in that Whedon fan column:
V. You love adding –y’s and –age to words and saying made up phrases like the aforementioned “linkage”, “’splainy”, “hamnoo”, “make me unsee it” and “great merciful Zeus!” Sure, nobody understands what you’re saying, but it rolls off the tongue so sweetly—you’re pretty sure it’s the sort of sound that makes doves cry (but, you know, in the good way).
VI. You love shiny objects like scythes, swords and big guns named Vera. (Bonus points when you use the word “shiny” to denote your pleasure.)
VII. You love buying multiple DVD copies of Buffy, Angel, Firefly, Serenity, Dollhouse and Dr. Horrible. Sure, you’ve watched them all half a dozen times (twice that month you were in between jobs!) and you could re-enact each episode purely from memory, but you need multiple copies. What if a friend wants to borrow one and then you only have five copies? Actually five really isn’t enough. Which is why I recommend you buy a safety deposit box and store your sixth copies there. And on the days you’re too lazy to walk across the room, get your copy off the shelf and put it in the DVD player, you sign on to Netflix and just watch the Buffy seasons which are permanently in your online queue.
(This brings us to the next point of order…)
VIII. You love converting your friends to the world of Whedon. In fact, you judge the friends who don’t appreciate the wonders therein. Something’s clearly wrong with them and you look askance at their own DVD collection where Napoleon Dynamite holds a place of pride on the top shelf. Sure the Liger joke was funny, but it cannot compare to the Xander/Harmony slapfight and anyone who thinks otherwise is smokin’ the bad crack.
IX. You think tattooing yourself in honor of the Whedonverse is a fine and esteemable practice. Who wouldn’t want Angel’s tattoo or the mark of Eyghon on their ass? (Or their significant other’s ass if you’ve got a problem with needles.)
X. You have a shelf/room/backyard pool/tree house/extra home devoted to the collection and display of Whedonverse memorabilia. Yes, you even bought the Twilight flavored soda, even though you’re pretty sure it’s poison designed to rob you of your free will, but your collection would be incomplete without it.
XI. The only reason you initially got a Twitter account was to follow your favorite Whedonverse celebs. And really, isn’t that reason enough? Who’d want to miss @nathanfillion’s witty remarks or not properly sync their breakfast with what @julietlandau ate that morning?
XII. You log in to Whedonesque daily, sometimes hourly, even though the white text on a black screen causes melty-brain migraines. The news is important and you must stay informed and keep abreast of the current discussion, especially if your favorite character is maligned. Sure, someone's wrong on the internet every millisecond, but it actually matters when it's about your Fictional Love and you will defend their honor with your last dying keystroke.
XIII. You look forward to the day you can share the gospel of Whedon with your children. You get a twinkle in your eye at the thought of dressing up your hypothetical (or possibly real) son in a black leather coat and letting him play “Helping the helpless”. You’re less than thrilled when your other son decides he wants to bleach his hair (and no, it's not 'cause you don't love Spike, that's a whole different church and we frown upon those shenanigans here), but you understand the need for accuracy during playtime. Some parents might find it odd that you encourage your children to play with sharp sticks instead of buying them Legos, but how else would you stake a vampire? Besides, the boys aren’t allowed to play with the replica scythe you bought on eBay because that’s for when their baby sister is old enough as “it is for her alone to wield.” When your kids want to play space cowboys, you help them swap the leather for some browncoats and away they go.
XIV. Speaking of kids, you might not have any yet, but you do have pets and you've named them all after Whedonverse characters. The names already sound like they're tailor-made for animals, except you avoid being cliched by naming your cat Spike instead of your dog. You name the boy cat overly concerned with keeping his coat purty, Angel, and you ponder how cat saliva is like a metaphor for hair gel.
For some of you, it might be a point of pride that you no longer follow the Code. But the Code is always there, beckoning you to rejoin the land of fannish obsession. And you know you had some good times marathoning episodes like you used to snort... soda. Remember, the Code is not the source of evil, right? Right. So go forth and spread your fannish joy.