Back in 2004, I went to our public library, where I saw a new low (at least I hope to the gods it's a new low--I would hate like Hell to think that people have been doing this all along) in the idiocy of the modern fluffbunny.

I'd gone to return some books. My brother had borrowed my videotape of Clan of the Cave Bear a few nights ago and I was reminded that I had bought the fifth novel in that series a good year or so ago and not gotten around to reading it yet. On a whim, I grabbed the first four books in the 'Earth's Children' series so I could re-read them before tackling the new one; as I recall, there was a huge lag between book #4 and #5--way more than that between the same-numbered Harry Potter books, if I recall correctly.

So I'm waiting in the check-out line by the front desk with my arms full of books when a woman steps into line behind me. I would love to be able to say she was some naive, fresh-faced, 'watches-The Craft-too-much' teenager, but, alas, such was not the case. I'm 36; she had to be at least 30, I'm guessing. She grinned down at the books in my arms and then her eyes flicked up to the t-shirt I was wearing, which had a Celtic triskelion across the front. It was about that time that I saw the silver-dollar-sized pentacle she was wearing. "I've read those books!" she chirped brightly. "Are you a pagan?"

I confess I don't know why I answered her honestly. I guess it's because it's just second nature not to lie, not even to save myself what followed.

"Me too! Our whole coven has read those books. They showed us the mysteries of the Great Mother! Have you read the new one, where the author reveals the Song of the Great Mother to everyone?"

...

I think I gaped. She apparently took that to mean that I hadn't read the fifth book yet, which was accurate, as far as that goes. "Oh, you must read it!" she cooed. "It's so wonderfully deep. It tells all about how She created the Earth and all of us on it. It's so sad how Her worship has been distorted and persecuted and almost destroyed!"

Now, don't get me wrong; I like Jean Auel's books all right. She seems to do a fair job of research as far as her anthropology and archaeology go--I'm at least moderately familiar with the work of the Leakeys in Africa, as well as more recent research in the field--but Auel's interpretations of the findings in Europe are FICTIONAL. Pleasant enough to read, although bordering on prehistoric porn in some places, but a fun enough way to kill an afternoon if you already have the housework done.

What the books are not, in any way, is something to base one's religious beliefs around. Fiction. F-I-C-T-I-O-N. And this woman just didn't get that.

I honestly admit I had no idea what to say to this woman as she burbled on. I nodded mutely as she talked, but I was pretty happy to get the books checked out and flee as politely as I could.

For the record, my own path is Celtic Reconstructionist/Hellenic Reconstructionist (separately; I never do rituals that mix the two pantheons), but I've worked damn hard and long to make things as historically accurate as possible in my own day-to-day spiritual practices and this sort of thing just leaves me speechless.

I admit I don't interact with the Pagan community much offline, aside from the occasional Pagan Pride Day trip, but have things in the real world amongst neopagans really gotten THIS fluffy?