Meh, or why Otherkin don’t really bother me

While looking through my Facebook feed today, I saw more then a few mentions of modern Pagans confusing pop culture for a pantheon.  There was a lot of understandable outrage and consternation.  For my part, I can’t even begin to concern myself with it; to be honest, I was more then a little surprised that anyone reacts to this at all.  Isn’t this sort of a defecto state?  Every religion has it’s camps.  Some get the message, and some pervert it; it’s a pretty standard model.  There is, of course, another school of thought…one where you are grind  your faith into a fine powder, and snort it through a straw made of  frozen bonkers.  Sometimes they think they’re the reincarnated son of Red XIII and Nina Williams, and sometimes they have a UPG that Thor is a Klingon.  In either case, I pretty much always assume that these people are around somewhere.

I try not to worry about it, honestly.

I came up into Paganism by dealing with mall rats, stoners, and the spiritually dyslexic on internet forums.   I envy most of the spiritual stories my friends tell me.  Some have tales of youthful dreams, filled with compelling, deeply personal gnosis.  Others will tell me of how the gods saved them from their own self destruction.  How I learned my spiritual dos and don’ts was from people who swore that they were reincarnated aliens from the planet Alpha Centari.  This is not a humorous jest or colorful exaggeration; this was a thing I was told on multiple occasions.  I was also told that the mall was their spaceship.  I also met several covens worth of half-vampires.  Also; the God Chronos.

I can get you all an autograph if you’d like.

So people who are aping at spirituality but taking a wrong turn at WatDaFuq Lane?  This is a phenomenon that I am more then familiar with.  I understand the offense they cause some, but I’ve seen too many of their ilk to really be able to care.  They never cause as much damage as people worry that they will, and the only personal pain I suffered was free times and (in case) one of them stealing fifty bucks out of my wallet.

Apparently, Chronos needed cigarettes and whiskey that night.

My Lokean friend has put forth that maybe some of these people have looked upon the divine and didn’t know how to handle it; that’s as good as suggestion as any I’ve heard.  There is, of course, people who make such claims for attention; I’ve got nothing to say about them, as saying anything just feeds them.

This too shall pass.  The Marvel movies (and similar materials) are doing the same thing that World of Darkness, The Crow, and the rise of Llywellyn publications did back in the mid-nineties.   We’re going to get a bunch of mad fools in here, but when isn’t that the case?  To be honest, I can’t tell much of a functional difference between Thorsmen who act like Klingons and a man who worships Klingon-Thor.  To me, this is just another strain of a familiar disease.