Wherein the author tries to make sense of the world by way of the one, true Boognish. If you don't know what that means, you're either missing out or not missing out, depending on whether or not you would like or not like the thing being referred to that you may or may not know whether you like or not.
That sentence was a mess. A shorter version is: I've met so few people who can tolerate my favorite band, Ween, and though I'd like to recruit you to the club, I also know that you're going to hate it. And that turns out to be, for good or ill, a fairly apt metaphor for how I live my life.