Every year around this time, a gaggle of pre-selected folks vote using a set of pre-determined factors on which demigod gets the call up to the hall of immortality. In between grape leaves and jugs of wine, they handpick olives and Gods. You see, Mount Olympus is a mountain, but it’s also a museum. A place where fannypackers pack in and selfie-stickers stick around until the gift shop closes. Early on, people living nearby understood that tourism depended on an annual influx of new mortal blood. They couldn’t have the same twelve guys in there forever. It would feel stale over time.
For some purists this has spelled disaster for a once great institution. They believe inducting Gods like Parcus Parallelus (some still hold a grudge dating back to when chariots were the primary conveyance. He would watch as drivers struggled to fit into tight spaces offering no assistance. This is what Ben Our was really about.) and Crispus Beerus diminishes what the place originally had. A rarefied air meant for a special group of divine individuals.
It was not for everyone. It wasn’t even for every God. The trouble is, standards change, mores shift, and values evolve. What was once acceptable, is now frowned upon. It’s a great honor to get the call though. It used to be blown through a conch shell - now it's a text (Text STOP if you don't want special promotions and weekly updates from Mount Olympus).
Don’t let any half-a-God convince you otherwise. These guys want their bust beside all-time greats like Apollo, Aphrodite and the rest of ‘em.
A few years ago, a social media campaign aimed at destroying the reputations of certain figures began. It started with Dionysus in an attempt to prove that a straight line can be drawn from his lubricated feasts to the rampant binge drinking on college campuses. The word "campus" certainly sounds Greek. And there are those who want Poseidon kicked to the marble, believing any dangerous rip tide is on him. Other people questioned the amount of nepotism in the hall – weren’t they all related to Zeus? And the God of Thunder himself wasn’t without past sins. Like most of the inductees, he offered no defense. It was a different time and immortality has its perks, but it can also lead to a pervasive nihilistic malaise.
The voters are a small enclave of theologians who have studied this stuff their whole lives. Some abstain from voting in protest, saying until Jesus is inducted, what are we even doing here? But Zeus has made it very clear he only wants dear friends and family members. It’s hard to argue with someone literally holier than thou, sitting atop a throne, dismissing any candidate from the last thousand years. Personally, I’ve reviewed the documents, and there’s actually quite a strong case for L. Ron Hubbard. The toughest metric is determining whether someone is a God or just a really good magician? While I’m okay with putting David Blaine alone side little Hermes, but then Houdini should be in, too. It’s only fair.
As religion wanes, does that mean we should start putting in regular people? I say, absolutely. The Home Depot employee quite helpful tying your Christmas tree to your car – a veritable miracle – deserves consideration. In the end, getting into Mount Olympus doesn’t make you a God. In the same way winning a grammy doesn’t make you a great musician. It’s just a nice line on your resume. Nothing more.
Critics would like to see the place burned to the ground. As if that matters. They are immortal. I don't worry about who gets in or who doesn't. It's nice to know that even deities want a social club to validate an eternity of questionable behavior. There's talk they may move to Olympus Mons on Mars at the behest of Musk. I don't buy it. These guys belong in Greece.
But how seriously are we supposed to take a place when God himself has to buy a ticket to visit? It's still just a mountain.
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