I am always melancholy around my birthday. Perhaps it comes from edging ever closer to fifty, but my thoughts inevitably turn sour as October rolls around. This year I am doubly troubled as slivers of potentially connected information twist and spiral in unexpected directions, taking on a weight all their own as they drag me down into the underworld with them. Add in a pinch of cosmicism, as well as a dash of weary cynicism, and it is no surprise that my mood has gone from relatively dark to midnight black. Worse, all that is required to follow me fall is to ask yourselves the same three seemingly simple questions that I did.

First, what is the one overriding belief that unites the majority of humanity, driving us as a species to push the boundaries beyond the natural limitations that seem to have been placed around our existence? Second, which small slice of acquired knowledge makes those who seek a more personal relationship with the divine feel safe while huddled before their ersatz altars waiting for those prayers to be heard? Finally, can you name the lie at the core of almost every belief system currently employed on the planet today, including the Abrahamic, new age and witchcraft narratives?

The answers can come in many forms, but all will inevitably relate to the human need to see ourselves as in some way special. Mankind is hardwired to feel marked for greatness, and perhaps also shepherded home by far more powerful beings who continually watch over us as we grow to maturity in some nebulous universal hierarchy. Ascended masters. Great white brotherhood. Star brothers. Angels and demons. Of such love and light fallacy whole religions are made. Wars have been fought over far less, supposed holy lands drenched in more blood than could ever be washed away by the slowly encroaching seas.

Mankind once danced in the throes of Bacchanalia, breaking body and mind to meet the classical gods. Many famous magickians eternally strived to either regain a divine nature denied to them by the cruel jaws of Eve or secure union with an all encompassing deity who would happily make their existential angst go away. Enochian was thought to provide the cheat codes to foster such a relationship with the manifestations of apparently higher, biblical powers. The witches sabbath. Astral travel. Household spirits and religiomania. Demons on the crossroads teaching the guitar in exchange for immortal souls.

But herein lies the uncomfortable truth of the situation we find ourselves in. Because as with any pyramid scheme, those who approach the divine can only ever be faceless masses caught in the throes of worship. One cog in a vast congregation, supplicants begging the more powerful entities at the top of the pile to notice them and maybe even deign to intercede on their behalf in some mundane matter. Frankly, the majority of the interactions with the gods border on the parasocial, because even the more attentive of such spirits are unlikely to remember everyone who knelt at the base of their statues. Or even really care.

If you disappeared tomorrow the many and varied pantheons of spirits you work with on a regular basis would just move on to another human vessel without missing a beat. The same goes for the shades of the dead which took so long to vet before allowing them into your home and even nature elementals too. We mean nothing to these entities, other than a passing distraction during mind numbingly boring non-lives that last many centuries longer than our own. We are less than pets to them, and as everybody knows dogs are easy enough to replace once the original is buried under the oak tree out back.

Look at the work of John Keel. He expressed constant confusion at the motives of creatures who coupled abilities straight out of Greek mythology with the mentality of YouTubers running a second rate prank channel. If even half of his tales were true then surely a species as important to the universal plan as we believe ourselves to be would warrant a far more meaningful first contact than men in black suits drinking Jell-O and stealing ball point pens. It makes no sense, and I am starting to understand why. Unfortunately the revelation is far from pleasant, though there is no solace in shrinking away from uncomfortable truths.

The spirits we revere, regardless of how devious or powerful they seem to be, are just as lost in all this as we are. There is no grand plan at play, just boredom and instinct. As Alan Moore has stated more than once, no one is at the wheel. The universe is rudderless and all are adrift. Conspiracies and agendas are in play, of course. Perhaps there are different camps all vying for control of reality itself. That said to imprint such human lusts upon a vastly more complex being may well be doing them a disservice, as well as avoiding the now likely obvious follow up question. What, exactly, would the gods themselves worship?

Some have hinted that the universe at a quantum level reacts like the thoughts of some vast, chaotic mind. This is seen by many as a sleeping entity dreaming quietly of all that ever was and ever will be. An appeal to cosmicism by those who still yearn for the divine within the boundaries of purely material understanding. We again must ask ourselves what mankind could ever bring to the party to make this slumbering goliath wake up and take notice of our presence, if it were even there. And yes, theories on universe simulation and the idea of the gods being humans from outside its boundaries remain flawed for the same reason.

So it is far healthier to accept that we are but an accident of creation, and to face the fact that the various entities which cross our path lack any real interest in us other than as a way to pay the bills. It is purely business, nothing more. As followers seek to use them, they do the same in return. The bottom line is that while humanity may be unique, it is far from special. The gods only care about us in so far as our attention keeps them from being forgotten. So in a reactive universe where imagination may well have birthed such ersatz spirits in the first place, can you blame them for seeking attention elsewhere after you are gone?