I might be talking completely out of my ass, and an anthropologist might know better, but wouldn't the whole point of telling stories about those gods be the extraordinary premise?

Either way, Tolkien's proviso - Thou Shalt Not Desecrate My World of Fantasy - is the very edifice that Pratchett's Discworld shattered into a million pieces. Daniel Luthi explores this is in an essay on Discworld as a 'postmodern playground':

https://dc.swosu.edu/cgi/viewcontent.cgi?article=1036&context=mythlore

Even in the earliest Discworld novels, which were more heavy on parodying fantasy literature, Pratchett was never afraid to break the immersion of his world to tell a joke.

Discworld is self-aware. It knows that you know it's ridiculous. It agrees. Pratchett was never afraid to take the piss out of the world that he created. His footnotes are often a way for the narrator to take you aside and make fun of the new piece of Lore that's just been introduced:

> The idea that Winter could actually be enjoyable would never have occurred to Ramtop people, who had eighteen different words for snow.*
*(All of them, unfortunately, unprintable.)

- Wyrd Sisters, p88

Talking of Wyrd Sisters, there's one scene in my mind that sticks out as pure Mum.

Our three protagonists - Esme 'Granny' Weatherwax, Gytha 'Nanny' Ogg, and Magrat '' Garlick, all witches - go to see a play. It's touted as a professional production, but Pratchett frames everything as though it were a Punch and Judy show - just sacking curtains and planks of wood laid over barrels.

And yet:

> [The theatre] had also managed to become The Castle, Another Part of the Castle, The Same Part A Little Later, The Battlefield, and now it was A Road Outside the City.

Granny Weatherwax watches a king being murdered in the play, and calls bullshit:

> "He's killed him," she hissed, "Why isn't anyone doing anything about it? […] right up there in front of everyone!"

But Granny's one of Discworld's sharpest minds. She doesn't need Nanny's comments to know the charlatans on stage are 'purveyors of untruth and artifice.' In a later scene, the actor playing the dead king fills the role of a soldier. Granny calls bullshit once more, and looks for the actor who previously played the murderer (presumably he's in a different garb - maybe he isn't):

> "He done it!" she shouted triumphantly, "We all *seed* 'im! He done it with a dagger!"

Things don't just stop there, though - no, no, no. It's a well-known fact on #Discworld that Witches can go wherever they like. The three of them head backstage…

> "You!" [Granny Weatherwax] shouted. "You're dead!"

That, he was. And there, after a fake bush meets a Lancre steel-capped boot and bursts into splinters, she exposes the lie to the world at large:

> "See?" […] "Nothing's real! It's all just paint, and sticks and paper at the back."

At first, you might think this whole affair ridicules the sorts of hackneyed scenes that are ONLY (and I repeat, ONLY) possible in entertainment. One example soaps have been leaning on since we could put phones in our pocket:

> If your character is going to be killed off, you WILL show the viewer their forgetting to charge their phone, and it WILL run out of juice when they need it most.

- https://brologue.net/2023/11/05/fantasy-for-mums/

But when you think about it, Granny Weatherwax, in her own abrasive way, critically (and literally) deconstructs the secondary world that the production asks the audience to believe.

How did Mum prove to Dad that dragons aren't real? She googled for dragons and found their Wikipedia page:

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dragon

For the same effect, she could've looked up some behind-the-scenes videos of the actors flailing in front of a greenscreen. None of it's real.

So, what's all this simulacra and simulation business, then? When we see a White Walker or a dragon on-screen, what relation do they have to our reality? That is: what does Mum mean when she says a dragon isn't 'real?'