I spend a lot of time thinking not just about the media artifacts I like, but why, even how I like them, and I’ve come to a realization: the set of artifacts I can discuss rationally is a subset of the set of artifacts I have experienced.

Put more simply: if I love something or hate something too much, don’t even try to talk to me about it.

That said, I think my rationality zone is pretty broad. Some of the TV shows nearest my heart (say, Babylon 5) have significant problems that I’m perfectly willing to discuss—indeed, I welcome such opportunities, as they may lead to a deeper understanding of the work.

But once my abiding love for a show crosses a threshold, I am no longer willing to discuss it. Take Avatar: The Last Airbender. I think it’s probably the best TV series of the past decade. I’m willing to bet you don’t agree, and if so—I do not want to hear about it. Another example is the anime Planetes, which tells the near-future story of a group of orbital garbage collectors. In my estimation, it’s the finest piece of science fiction committed to film since 2001, and if you’re not on board for that, I’m really not interested in hearing about it.

There’s a flip side. I hate Lost. I hate that show so bad. I feel cheated out of the time I invested in it. I consider the entire thing a prank at the audience’s expense, one of those rambling multi-hour jokes where the punchline is a non-sequitur that amuses only the teller. I am utterly unable to discuss the show in rational terms, and I accept this. I don’t get into fights over it, and my comrades know better than to bring it up to me.

It’s not just television. I consider Shena Ringo to be the finest rock musician of the decade, and her KZK album to be an achievement unequalled since, by anyone, in any country, on any planet, in any star system. I think Anathem is Neal Stephenson’s best book so far, full stop, and yes I’ve read Cryptonomicon. Et cetera, et cetera.

Please don’t ask after my Battlestar Galactica opinions, or how I feel about vampire fiction in general, unless you want to witness a detonation of rage.

It’s not just me, either. Go ahead and ask my esteemed co-editor Scott what he thought of Juno. Go ahead. I dare you.

The reason I’m talking about this at all is that I try not to waste time with pointless hate. I don’t like Lost, but I love that my friends are so into it—I understand what it means to love something so much that it’s the highlight of your week or month, and their fandom means they in turn can understand mine. This begins to get at the heart of what I hope Sodapop Journal will be; a place to talk about the things we love, whether they exceed the edges of our own personal rationality or not.