I'm going to finish this ramble with something that a few of us heard at the Wolfram and Heart Annual Revue. Many of the other fans were kinda afraid of the Buffistas. It was an interesting thing to hear, but accurate too. We do seem to expect folks to be well spoken, and have a certain edge. I'm not sure what that means exactly, but it seems to be true.
It is true. And it's also a big part of the reason I continue to be a Buffista, when my participation in other online fandoms and communities tends to wax and wane.
Here's my little bit of history: I have been a member of online Buffy fandom almost as long as there's been a fandom. I found the Bronze shortly after its inception, when it was still an Ultimate TV website run by TV James before its affiliation with the WB official website. I think I started posting there immediately following the broadcast of "Never Kill a Boy on the First Date"—I know the debate about what exactly Angel was hadn't yet been settled by the show. I'm mentally counting the number of Bronzers still active in the fandom that were there when I arrived, and I haven't yet run out of fingers and toes. (Admittedly, the early onset of senility may be keeping the number I can recall down here.) Way back then, When Dinosaurs Ruled the Earth, the Bronze was a collection of smart, witty, talented people united by their love of the show and enjoyment of each other's virtual company. Some of the people who worked on the show were also active participants in the board, sharing their opinions with us and occasionally honoring us with a glimpse behind the scenes or hints of things to come.
Sound familiar?
The Bronze as it was in 1997 differed from the Buffistas in two regards: one, that it was the official board for the show and drew a large share of the internet surfers interested in that subject, and two, it was a nicer, more welcoming place than the Phoenix Board.
So much nicer and more welcoming that people really didn't feel they could speak up as the show's increasing popularity drew an ever-growing influx of progressively younger and less mature posters. So devoted to providing an equal opportunity for everyone to have a voice that the smart, witty, talented posts of that original collection of people were drowned under a tidal wave of contentless greetings, exclamations, shoutouts, keeper lists, solipsistic ramblings that were never intended to invite response, and desperate attempts to gain the notice of VIPs from the show. The hands-off, open door board management style allowed participation by trolls who liked to ignite flamewars or play "funny" practical jokes (such as the one that briefly scared Joss and the crew into thinking that Alyson Hannigan—up until that point an occasional much beloved poster at the Bronze—had died in a car crash).
It's not that all the original posters from the golden age went away (though some did). Many of them stuck around, and those of you who attended the Annual Review may have met a number of them who are still actively involved in fandom. It's that the previous board culture and highly entertaining, valuable interaction was diluted and overshadowed when the signal-to-noise ratio dipped to favor noise so strongly. The Bronze tried to be everything to everyone, and in so doing was stretched too thin and lost too much of its identity. It staggered on, limping and bleeding, until it was closed down with the end of Buffy's run on the WB and replaced with an even less appealing successor by UPN. Dedicated posters created its spiritual heir, the Bronze Beta, on their own and it survives to this day.
My point, and I do have one, is that there is a danger in being too accommodating and nice. I like it that Buffistas.org is somewhat sarcastic, and not politically correct, and doesn't suffer fools gladly. I like it that people get called on their bullshit, and that intelligence and command of the language are not merely encouraged, but at least by implication demanded. I don't think the board should bend over backwards to welcome everyone who might be interested in it, and quail at the thought that (gasp!) anyone might not like us or think we're mean or elitist. I think new posters should have to work to earn acceptance and respect (though NOT common courtesy, which should be extended to anyone) from the community—they should be willing to climb mountains (of new posts) and crawl through minefields (of bureacracy and debate) to become Buffistas. In short, they should prove that they want to belong here as much as I do, as much as the people who built this board and maintain its architecture and culture do. If the Phoenix Board as it is doesn't suit them, then they, and we, would be better served if they looked elsewhere for entertainment and camaraderie. But if it does suit, if they find that the quirks and the obsessions and the oddball personalities are just what they've been looking for, then both parties will be enriched by the effort required to participate.
I love this place, and the people that make it up. And I'm very defensive about calls to see it change.