Identity. It’s important in fandom.
For centons I’ve been jealous of yonder Trekkies. Look at ‘em, with their unique moniker and their convenient “Live Long and Prosper” hands held up in victory salute over us Star Wars fans. I mean seriously, in the 35 years we’ve had this wonderful franchise with its expansive saga, and its detailed universe, and its hyper-cool folklore and back story, I ask you: what have we done to advance the cause of Star Wars fan identity?
Now let’s work the more specific problem. Short of a Darth Maul face tattoo, how can we pick each other out in a crowd? Well, admittedly, I don’t expect us all to use the Force to figure out who has a life-sized cardboard cutout of Slave Leia in their office (I do). But let’s say you suspect you are near another Star Wars fan. You catch bits of Lucasian goodness on the wind like a random “X-Wing”, a whispered “Jar-Jar”, a half-heard “Bespin”, or best of all, disturbances in the Force, the pantomime of “snap-hiss-buzz” dueling between consenting adults.
What do you do? How do you bridge the lonely chasm between us fans?
Sure, this question isn’t new to us. But it’s also never been answered. Go ahead, try it out. What do you call yourself? Go on with your bad self. “Star Warsian”? “Warsies”? “Lucasites”? Sure, you could play small ball and name drop a “Jedi” or “Force-wielder”, “Dark Sider” or even “Wookiee thug for life”. Or you could go to the other extreme and call yourself something vague and unimaginative like “Fanboy”. What is that? It’s a give-up, that’s what it is. It’s sweatpants on your mom, cargo shorts on your dad. No style, just easy, form-concealing comfort.