Don't be too cool for things. One of the saddest things in the world is being too cool for things, but even sadder is to imagine that the things you love are cooler than the things somebody else loves. Assigning levels of coolness to fandoms, passions, and hobbies is a super lame-o waste of your own cool time, IMCO (where "C" stands for "cool").
+ see also: Samantha Hunt at New York:
The reason I love 1D isn’t because they are so good; it’s because they are so good for me. They are a code sequenced specifically for my DNA, made to produce emotions I really want to feel, thoughts I really want to think. The boys and their fans are a reminder that the intellect does not alone belong to suffering and seriousness but populates girly things just as fully. One Direction reminds me that love, joy, giddiness, even hysteria are crucibles of intelligence.
The thing I loved best about Trainwreck was its devotion to middle-era Billy Joel. There's no logical reason for this: love is not logic. Logic sits in judgment. Love flips logic the bird on its way to the soda shop for french fries and a malted.
Well, I'm here by way of atonement, because I used to be a real jerk about fandom, and I used to make fun of them. Then I had a life-changing, road-to-Damascus moment. It involved a strange artifact that got produced partly because of something I did, which I'll describe in a few minutes. It taught me a great deal about community on the Internet.
As I've gotten to know fandom, I've grown convinced that they have a lot to teach us all. Fans are an example of real people using machines to talk to one another, rather than a manufactured and engineered attempt to graft social life onto a single website.