I find it amazing that such an extensive and passionate debate has raged on about geek culture for this many posts, and no one has attempted to analyze the claims being made and spot the dispositive issues in play.
Well, that’s what law geeks do. 
The threshold issue is, it seems to me: what does the word “geek” mean, and is it susceptible to any kind of objective analysis? One side of the discussion seems to argue that simply self-identifying as a geek is sufficient: there is no test, no objective rule, no standard apart from saying, by word or deed, “I am a geek.” The other side has suggested that this is not so: being a geek involves certain key elements, although individual commentators differ greatly on what those elements might be.
My own reaction is that while I have a certain joy in being able to quote Monty Python and The Princess Bride, once legitimately rolled[sup]*[/sup] an AD&D character with 18’s in Intelligence, Wisdom, Constitution, and Charisma, and played a game of War in the Pacific that took longer to play than the war took to fight[sup]**[/sup], I recognize that someone can be a geek without ever watching those movies, playing D&D, or touching a board game.
I have a strong sense of what geekdom is as a general principle, though: having an unusually intense knowledge of and interest in a particular pastime and a desire to share the expressions of that intense interest with others. But I am not willing to limit the field of interest in any particular way: I would recognize the sports geek who can rattle off the starting offensive line for every team in the NFC East, even though a hobby like that did not likely lead to ostracism in high school. I would recognize the stamp geek that can instantly spot a fake Benjamin Franklin Z Grill and still fumes with anger about Postmaster General Day’s reissue of the Dag Hammarskjöld invert. and I’d recognize a zillion other insert-your-own-prefix-geeks about whom I’m not even knowledgeable enough to cobble together a convincing example.
And finally, I’d recognize that at some point, every single geek, even the most hyper-aware and hyper-knowledgeable about Red Hulk’s origins as Thunderbolt Ross, started out not knowing anything at all about the subject. At some point, they were babes in the woods. And presumably, at some point along that journey to the hyper-expertise position that they now possess, they encountered a community.
It seems to me that it is of obvious benefit for that community to be welcoming. I suppose it;s possible that not every encounter the community has is with true interest. Perhaps some people approach the community merely feigning interest. But as Left hand of Dorkness cogently observes above: what of it? Perhaps the association will be the beginning of true interest. Maybe it won’t…either way, who is hurt? The true joy of geekdom is, as also mentioned above, to me seems to be not only the knowing, but the sharing of the arcane. And since not everyone can possibly operate on the same level, doesn’t it makes sense to try to minimize the discomfort that a new entrant to the area of interest might feel, instead of highlighting and reinforcing it?
So I argue that THIS is what we should do.
Have fun storming the castle!