I’ve lived the majority of my life neck deep in stories, fiction, ‘made up shit’. Roleplaying games, computer games, science fiction and fantasy. Because of this some people seem to wonder why I don’t buy in to mythology and superstition. Their argument seems to be that because I think stories about magic, UFOs, Moon Nazis, telepathy and so on are cool and great that somehow this translates to me believing in them in reality.
I just don’t follow this line of thinking.
I can appreciate religious myths on that storytelling and metaphorical level, even if I think they’re metaphors for shitty things or that they’re so wide of the mark they couldn’t see the mark in the Hubble Deep Field.
Indeed, I credit my honed fictonaut states with my keenly callibrated bullshitometer. If you’re immersed in fiction you can tell more easily, I think, when you’re being fed a line. You can recognise more easily the line between fantasy and reality and differentiate the one from the other.
Just because some of these people can’t tell a story from what’s real I don’t see why they should extend that to me. Weirdos.