Skepticism

How I Realized I Was a Warg

I was lying in bed late last night reading A Storm of Swords while Adam laid next to me playing a game on his phone. I finished a chapter and put the book away, then rolled over and bundled up in the blankets. After a few minutes of laying quietly in the dark, I announced, “I think I’m a warg.”

A full 45 seconds of silence passed before Adam sighed a long and heavy sigh.

“Okay,” he said, “why do you think you’re a warg?”

“Because I can enter Fry’s mind and control him,” I said matter-of-factly.

Another sigh.

“That’s not true,” Adam pointed out, “because if you could, Fry would be lying here snuggling with you instead of running around the house.”

It was true that my cat Fry and I spent an inordinate amount of time snuggling. Pretty much every night, I fall asleep with my arms wrapped around Fry like he’s a stuffed toy who purrs and emits a vast quantity of heat.

“That’s what I had planned to do,” I said, “but once I entered his mind I was having too much fun trying to tip over the trashcan.”

“Uh-huh,” Adam said. A few seconds passed before we heard a soft thump come from the kitchen.

I did it,” I whispered.

Adam sighed and got up to go see what was happening. He came back to the bedroom a few minutes later.

“Well, the good news is that you’re right. You’re a balrog, or whatever.”

A warg,” I whispered mysteriously.

“Fry tipped over the trashcan, and when I turned on the kitchen light he was eating chips for some reason. I guess he likes chips now.”

I know why he was eating chips,” I whispered.

Adam sighed. “Is it because…”

…because I was in his mind.

“…you were in his mind, right.”

I love chips.

“I know.”

I’m a warg.

“I know. Goodnight.”

Rebecca Watson

Rebecca is a writer, speaker, YouTube personality, and unrepentant science nerd. In addition to founding and continuing to run Skepchick, she hosts Quiz-o-Tron, a monthly science-themed quiz show and podcast that pits comedians against nerds. There is an asteroid named in her honor. Twitter @rebeccawatson Mastodon mstdn.social/@rebeccawatson Instagram @actuallyrebeccawatson TikTok @actuallyrebeccawatson YouTube @rebeccawatson BlueSky @rebeccawatson.bsky.social

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24 Comments

  1. Luckily this post was 95% authentic for me because by listening to Inquiring Minds and Skeptic’s Guide to the Universe, I know how each of you sounds. Unfortunately I had to fill in the audio for Fry with my girlfriend’s cat Tricky. He thinks he likes chips.

    1. I like this theory much better than the Warg one, but for one thing. Granny Weatherwax caught a unicorn once, indicating that she’s … you know … never has … And I don’t think that applies to Rebecca. She could be Tiffany Aching though.

          1. I think you’re on to something. I haven’t read any of the Wee Free Men books, but according to her Wikipedia article, Tiffany learned Borrowing from Granny Weatherwax and has an affinity for fire. This is Science, dammit!

  2. Big deal. I’m a bastard (Seriously, my parents were married a month after I was born.) who admits to ignorance and I’ve always liked dogs. Clearly I’m secretly a Targaryen AND a warg. ;)

    (I know, using Jon Snow, the only secret Targaryen theory I buy, as an example is a poor one, considering there are far fringier theories out there involving *all* of Tywin Lannister’s children really being Aerys’ kids.)

  3. I read this entire post trying to figure out why you felt like a demonic wolf, and what that had to do with reading your cat’s mind. I had to read it a few more times to figure out that it must have something to do with Martin. Then I had to Wikipedia to find out that he apparently needs to swipe Norse terms from Tolkien and change them in ways that make no etymological sense, rather than coming up with his own.

    Bah. Another reason not to put time into him.

        1. Wait a minute! What kind of chips? Potato chips, or (knowing Rebecca lived in the UK for a while), French Fries (French Fry’s, get it, nudge nudge)…. OR Chocolate Chips? Just askin’.

  4. I told my girlfriend this story, and ever since she will, at odd intervals, whisper ominously, “I’m a Warg”.I will, of course, whisper back, “I like chips”.

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