#modern mythology
Look, some “creepypasta monsters” really don’t deserve the mockery they have gotten in later years as generic and juvenile, especially things like Slender Man, Momo and Siren Head whose origins are all infinitely interesting rabbit holes just based on subtle horror art from simple, everday artists who rarely are even mentioned as the original creators of these massive media phenomenon adaptations. The looming eerieness and vagueness of the original creators’ work that beckons and forces people to create elaborate backstories as a means to comfortably process and understand their own feelings of dread when seeing it, it’s genious and monumental, and reducing it to something that glue eaters snort-laugh at Youtubers and peers getting low-effort-jumpscared by is such a shame.
…
anyways, I’ll take the chicken quesadilla and a Sprite, please
You are a long forgotten god. A small girl leaves a piece of candy at your shrine, and you awaken. Now, you must do everything to protect your High Priestess, the girl, and her entire kindergarten class, your worshipers.
The stone was immovable, in the past. Indestructible. A spire of granite no mortal hand could even alter.
But mortal hands build clever tools, and these last few hundred years I have lived in dread that they will break this, my sacred stone, the last link that preserves me, a faint shadow of a forgotten god. While my sacred stone stands, I do not, quite, fade away.
I am in a park, now, clipped and tamed, my forests long gone. But they landscape around me and my stone, admiring its beauty, so I do not complain. While they take pleasure in the stone, I am safe.
There is a playground a few lengths away, and the laughter and happy shrieking rouse me a little from my sleep. I watched over children, once. It’s nice to hear them again.
But I don’t truly awaken until the Offering is made.
Little hands touch my stone, with curiosity and a sort of reverence that only the very young feel now. For a child young enough the world is still a mystery, and even an ancient granite stone provokes wonder. So I stir, when she touches the stone, becoming hazily aware.
And then, solemnly, the child places a tiny colourful object in the roughly shaped alcove in the stone’s side, the place where offerings were laid two thousand years ago and more, and I awaken. Many people have put things in that alcove, of course… to take pictures, usually, these days, or putting a lost object where it will be seen. Merely to place an object in the alcove isn’t enough. A true offering is given as a gift, with intent.
As this is.
Someone in my offline life asked why I bother writing Star Wars fanfic, listing off Disney’s various and assorted sins, all of which of course I agree are awful! BUT. I think Star Wars as a concept doesn’t actually belong to the company that bought the legal right to wring as much capital out of the IP as possible. Star Wars is actually much larger than that.
Star Wars is a massive cultural project, almost half a century old, comprising all forms media, all forms of both official and folk art. It’s a densely woven tapestry of stories, the fruits of the labor and inspiration of thousands and thousands of people. It’s honestly the mythology of many of our childhoods, and it belong to us in a way that capitalism can’t touch.
It’s truly a global phenomenon too! Writing stories and sharing my theories about Star Wars has brought me into being a member a vast community of people, like I’ve had people ask to translate my stories into Russian, Italian, Chinese. I’ve had comments in my story written in so many languages. I have made friends across the globe, all from sitting at my isolated farm in rural USA.
That’s the reason that I write Star Wars, beyond enjoying the Force, the Jedi, the infinitely expandable galaxy, etc. like there’s room for everybody to tell stories. It’s a beautiful, special thing that I wouldn’t trade for anything. I personally LIKE joining in and adding my voice to an ongoing conversation among people who are excited about the heroes and stories that defined my childhood.
The entire idea of mythology only being available for a corporation, and not for the fans, is absurd to me. If we were in ancient Greece, and you said that you and your friends like to sit around and tell each other stories about Homeric characters, nobody would find it strange! Homer and the Homeric heroes were the pervasive stories that everybody vaguely knew and everyone had the context to easily enjoy a retelling.
I’m a prequels kid, and for me and many people in my generation, Anakin Skywalker, Padmé Amidala, and Obi-Wan Kenobi, and the fall of the galactic republic are formative stories seen at the ages when stories really matter. The generation before might have had Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, Han Solo—these figures are so archteypal, they belong to all of our collective imagination. Disney has nothing to do with that.