I sling the term “shavegeek” around a lot, and I realize that some readers, unaware of the confederacy of dunces what am the online shaving forum elite, might think that I’m making fun of anyone who takes extra care in the way he or she shaves.

Nothing could be further from the truth. I have the utmost respect for those wise and kind experts who, on the MSN Wetshavers discussion board, helped me get a grip on shaving with an old-school safety razor. These true gentlemen were a godsend to a DE newbie like me. Thank you: Gordon, Harry, and all the other good eggs who contributed so much to my understanding of this very different kind of shaving, and helped me in putting together the shaving segment on the Today Show which in turn helped so many other guys discover a better alternative to a Mach3 and a can of pressurized goo.

And I’m in stark, raving awe of the guys who hang around the straight razor forums like Straight Razor Place. Webmaster Lynn Abrams’s how-to video is an underground classic, and did much to help me get my knees to stop knocking long enough that I could try it myself (still haven’t quite gotten the hang of it, but thanks for the video, Lynn). These guys scrape their faces with knives every morning — they’re the He-Men of wetshaving, and I’m unfit to launder their barber towels.

Do you like to shave? You’re not a shavegeek. Do you like thinking about shaving? You’re not a shavegeek. Do you frequent online shaving forums looking for tips on what products to buy and how best to use them? You’re not a shavegeek. Do you frequent online shaving forums and help newbies sort all of this stuff out? You’re not a shavegeek. In fact, you’re a great guy.

No, when I refer to shavegeeks, I’m talking instead about a certain breed of online shaving fanatic. The kind of boorish, obnoxious, reactionary, clueless, arrogant, tacky, aggressive, irresponsible, childish, churlish, cowardly, lying, petty, small-minded, bitter, paranoid, ugly, stinky, poopy, doo-doo head that seems to populate most every online discussion group involving male hobbies, of which wetshaving somehow — incredibly, given its longtime status as the most loathed of the three sh___s you do every morning — has become.

At the risk of getting all Foxworthy on you, here are the Shavegeek warning signs:

1. You have more than five different shaving creams, and every morning you stand there and can’t decide which one to use.

2. See above, except substitute razors for shaving creams.

3. See above, except substitute shaving brushes for razors.

4. See above, except substitute blades for shaving brushes.

5. See above, except substitute aftershaves for blades.

6. See above, except substitute colognes for aftershaves.

7. See above, except substitute underpants for colognes.

8. See above, except substitute multiple personalities, all of them damaged, for underpants.

9. See above, except substitute fantasy scenarios involving a much less pear-shaped you and a woman wearing a bikini and high heels who’s lying on the hood of a black Porsche 911 and holding a bottle of tequila aloft — basically all of the elements (minus the less pear-shaped you) in the poster you bought at Spencer’s Gifts at the mall and which you’ve thumbtacked on the wall in your bedroom — for multiple personalities, all of them damaged.

10. See above, except substitute creeping feelings that despite the five razors and five brushes and five creams and five aftershaves and five underpants, your shaves are actually worse now than when you used to use a Mach3 for fantasy scenarios involving a much less pear-shaped you and a woman wearing a bikini and high heels who’s lying on the hood of a black Porsche 911 and holding a bottle of tequila aloft — basically all of the elements (minus the less pear-shaped you) in the poster you bought at Spencer’s Gifts at the mall and which you’ve thumbtacked on the wall in your bedroom.

Why am I so down on shavegeeks? Because they’re the kind of people who wind up ruining nearly every interest I seem to have. Instead of banding together to help one another optimize their experience, they confuse the issue so thoroughly with a rodent-like focus on every aspect of the process except for those which actually make a real difference.

It’s almost like they don’t really want to get to the top of the mountain, for fear that once they summit, they won’t have anything to geek about. So they chase infinite rabbits down infinite holes, because that’s a game you can play forever. The fear of actually figuring it out, whether it’s getting a stereo to sound like music, or using a DE razor to get a shave that’s both baby smooth and free of irritation, is what lies at the heart of eternal geekhood. The rest of us figure it out and move on to more important challenges.

Like, say, writing a daily blog about shaving.