(In no particular order of triviality)
I haven’t read comic books on a regular basis in years.
I don’t lapse into “Star Wars” or “Star Trek” quotes unless the subject is…STAR WARS OR STAR TREK!
I don’t drool at the idea of meeting some guy or gal who provided the voice for some cartoon I watched as a child.
I have never chosen nor experienced the urge to dress up like my favorite character(s) since sprouting hair in weird places, i.e. last week.
I can’t spend hours debating whose Silver Surfer was the “real” one without wanting to run screaming from my own skin.
I have no interest in video games, RPG’s or licensed material novels.
I shudder every time I see superfluous online updates about ComicCon.
I despise sub-genre trends that litter the market.
I won’t pay a monthly utility’s bill’s worth of income for the privilege of walking amongst celebrities whose careers have nosedived while doling out even more money so they will sign something they probably also made me buy, such as a picture of them.
Just because I like to create fictional worlds populated with fantastical elements and beings does not mean I like to pretend I live in them in groups of people doing the same thing.