1. Introduction
“Roar like a lion,”
1 because you are “gonna be iron like a lion in Zion,” (
Marley n.d., para. 1) as you “rise like a lion after slumber;” (
Shelley n.d., para. 1) this “lion sleeps no more” (
Icke 2010, p. xxxii). Be it a Semitic claim to power, a Rastafarian call for homecoming, a proletarian cry for revolt, or a conspiratorial plea to unmask the truth, the feline, roaring, elegant and noble, has often been equated as a symbol of raw majesty and inner-strength. From Bob Marley to David Icke, the feline is called upon as the king of the jungle and a reflection of our own inherent divine right to uprise and usurp the fetters of “Oppression’s thundered doom” (
Shelley n.d., para. 1). They call to the inherent feline divinanimality within us, waiting to rise, roar, and revolt. In this paper I will engage with a contemporary form of feline divinanimality, in which individuals believe that they are in fact starseeds, descended from an intergalactic feline species called the Lyrans. This ufology-inspired belief system promotes not only an inherent, embodied, metaphysical feline divinanimality, but also an intergalactic feline exogenesis and soteriology, which includes alien reincarnation and a uniquely bestial form of exotheology. The Lyran Starseed belief system therefore exemplifies a contemporary form of religious syncretism, by which “two or more distinct belief systems are fused to create a new religion” (
Moret 2008, para. 1). In this case, an entangled fusion of feline totemic fetishism, New Age spirituality, and exotheology.
Beyond offering a detailed exposition of this new creature exotheology, I shall also seek to contextualize the historicity of feline divinanimality, weighing its potential influence upon the Lyran Starseed tradition and its emphasis upon feline soteriology. This work therefore seeks to add to what is already a rich and diverse scholarship on feline divinanimality and veneration. From Donald Engels comprehensive study of the rise and fall of the sacred cat from late antiquity to the Middle Ages in Classical Cats (2018) and Alleyn Diesel’s analysis of the common association of cats with goddesses in her article “Feline and Female Divinities: The Association of Cats with Goddesses, Ancient and Contemporary” (2008), to more detailed analyses of the veneration of the cat in Egypt, such as Jaromír Malek’s work The Cat in Ancient Egypt (1993), and in India, with Chiara Policardi’s recent article “The Goddess on the Lion Animal Symbolism in the Representations of the Female Warrior Deity in Kuṣāṇa and Early Gupta India” (2024). My aim is to build upon these meticulous studies of explicit historical and verifiable forms of feline veneration by presenting a unique analysis of a contemporary example of a fiction-based, esoteric, and arguably unverifiable form of feline divinanimality in an intergalactic New Age tradition, thus joining scholars such as Elizabeth Atwood Lawrence, “Feline Fortunes” (2003), and John Gray, Feline Philosophy (2020), in studying how cats are revered in today’s popular culture. I will highlight that though these modern examples of intergalactic feline divinanimality have taken on specific characteristics shaped by twenty-first century innovations and narratives, they continue to perpetuate traditional interpretations of the feline as primarily providential, pure, and protective.
This work also seeks to analyze the degree to which contemporary fiction has helped to inspire an epistemological framework for this intergalactic feline ontology. I will highlight specifically how the 1980s children’s cartoon Thundercats has become fetishized, and even heralded, as a thinly disguised metaphor for this Lyran Starseed belief system. I argue that the more people start believing in Lyrans as our ancestors, creators, starseeds, and protectors, the more they are acknowledging the uncanny similarities between them and the Thundercats, questioning whether the cartoon was made consciously or subconsciously to mimic this Lyran space opera ontology. My research therefore leans significantly upon recent work that has highlighted the rise in fiction-based and -inspired religiosity on the formation of New Religious Movements (NRMs). From Jennifer Porter and Darcee McLaren’s work on Star Trek as a form of religious expression (1999) to Markus Altena Davidsen’s vanguard research on fiction-based religion with his analysis of Jediism from Star Wars (2016), and more recently Tolkienism Spirituality from Lord of the Rings (2024). Their work has helped me to understand the significant role of fiction in shaping contemporary forms of religious experience, whereby fiction and fandom can be interpreted as spawning, and the case of the Lyran Starseeds, supporting, its own unique form of religious expression, be it explicit or implicit.
My work adds to this scholarship, focusing on how science fiction literature and cartoons have shaped our interpretations of the holy, of the shamanic, and of the intergalactic, supporting NRMs which herald alien/starseed mysticism and ontology. For in the same way that Davidsen concludes that “supernatural fiction” has the potential to inspire “self-conscious new religions” whereby “practitioners seek to communicate with superhuman characters, like the wizard Gandalf,” and even, in some cases, choosing to “self-identify as Elves” (
Davidsen 2016c, p. 521), I argue in this paper that Lyran Starseed advocates have likewise been inspired by multiple science fiction narratives in their belief in, and in some cases, identification as, intergalactic feline–human hybrids. The difference in this case study however is the degree to which these Lyran adherents are explicitly “self-conscious” of this science fiction influence, beyond acknowledging uncanny similarities and suggesting sweeping synchromysticism.
This contemporary form of intergalactic feline divinanimality can therefore be studied through multiple converging lenses—exotheology, fiction-based religiosity, NRM, and totemic fetishism. My aim in this paper is to analyze the Lyran Starseed phenomenon from all these different perspectives as I delineate its core beliefs centered around the divine feline. Though the tradition is not unified in any way, and could even be described as profoundly polyvocal, encompassing a wide array of personal unverifiable narratives and gnosis, I was capable of demarcating four common claims: (1) feline humanoids exist and are named Lyrans after the Lyra constellation that they originate from; (2) Lyrans are the first “humanoids” and are either partially or completely responsible for our genesis, so that some or all humans are potentially genetically and spiritually connected/related to them; (3) some humans therefore believe that they are directly descended from Lyrans, and often refer to themselves as Lyran starseeds; (4) Lyrans are engaged in a cross-generational, intergalactic battle with sinister reptilian humanoids named Draconians after the Draco constellation that they originate from, and whilst Lyrans are portrayed as pure and protective, these Draconians are depicted as their antithesis, depraved and tyrannical.
2 For the purpose of this paper, I will offer a summary of these four claims, before delineating how they connect to traditional religious depictions of the feline, alongside representations from more recent popular culture sources, in particular, the
Thundercats cartoon franchise.
2. Feline Fundamentalism
To start my analysis, it is first integral to situate the Lyran Starseed tradition within the growing field of exotheology, which for the last fifty years has been drawing upon the interdisciplinary fields of theology, astronomy, philosophy, and astrobiology to contextualize the hypothetical implications that extraterrestrial life could have on religiosity. For as influential astronomer Carl Sagan famously proposed, “space exploration leads directly to religious and philosophical questions” (
Sagan 1973, p. 63), and could, as physicist Peter Davies suggests, “have a profound impact… shattering completely the traditional perspective on God’s relationship with man” (
Davies 1983, p. 71). Arguably first formalized and popularized within academic discourse by Lutheran theologian Ted Peters, the field takes into consideration the impact that extraterrestrial life would have on our understanding of ontology, cosmology, soteriology, and even missiology. For example, from a Christian theological perspective, as Peters delineates in his formative article, “Exotheology: Speculations on Extraterrestrial Life,” to what degree “does the existence of multiple worlds of intelligent life require multiple divine incarnations and acts of redemption,” or if this not the case, do “we earthlings… need to send missionaries to initiate aliens into God’s plan of salvation” (
Peters 1995, p. 195). He therefore argues that though “at this point in time we can only speculate” that we should, “while we wait for contact,” take on the “challenge and engage in a preliminary form of exotheology,” so that we can be prepared “to extrapolate on the basis of existing knowledge of earthling behavior and try to guide us all toward a peaceful and fraternal bond of friendship” (ibid., 200–201).
He goes on to suggest that “in order to ready the theologian to engage in such speculative reflection, we need theologians to partner with the scientists working in the relatively new and exciting field of astrobiology,” for as he rationally assumes, “when contact is made with life beyond earth, the astrobiologists are most likely to announce it to our world.” (
Peters 2009, p. 3) In this case study, however, first contact was not made through astrobiology but through mediumship. The first documented record we have of these intergalactic felines comes from a 1992 channeled message by Lyssa Royal Holt from a “group consciousness energy” referred to as Germane (
Royal Holt 1992, para. 1). According to this alien channel, there have been “various subgroups that have existed within” the Lyran species (ibid., para 3), one being “what you would consider to be humanoid—but whose physical appearance resembles what you call the feline kingdom on your world. They are not cat people, but humanoids who have catlike qualities” (ibid., para. 27). Though these “catlike entities” are described as having feline mouths, ears and eyes, the channel repeatedly asserts that though “any primitive interaction with these entities on your world may report that they are cat people—they are not. They are humanoid” (ibid.). Similarly, Louise Reiss-James later attests in her 2019 comprehensive historical overview,
The Lyran Disclosure, that “contrary to common belief, the Lyrans are not feline in structure or being. In fact, they are somewhat more humanoid.” (
Reiss-James 2019, p. 3). Whether Lyrans have been mistakenly identified as feline, or there are specific subgroups within the Lyra constellation that are feline but are not an accurate representation of the majority of Lyrans, the fact still remains, many in the New Age ufology movement now associate the Lyrans as intergalactic felines.
This is pertinently demonstrated by Cambell Quinn McCarthy in his book,
The Lyran Legacy: Unlocking the Feline Mysteries, in which he categorically affiliates Lyrans as “beings with distinctly feline characteristics… and feline energies” (
McCarthy 2023, pp. 4–5). He further elaborates that “the feline entities of Lyra are said to be both mysterious and enlightening” (ibid., p. 5), and “are not your typical house cats but elevated, highly evolved entities” (ibid., p. 13). He however also emphasizes that the Lyran star system “is not a monolithic entity but rather a diverse constellation of life forms and energies,” which includes both “feline and humanoid forms” (ibid., p. 12). He describes them existing in an “interstellar alliance,” whereby “the feline entities often act as the spiritual compass, ensuring the decisions align with cosmic laws and ethical considerations, while the humanoids work on the implementation and practical aspects” (ibid., p. 14). They therefore complement each other, forming “a unique symbiosis that facilitates the growth and prosperity of the Lyran star system” (ibid., p. 15). As he further details:
“the archetypes of Lyra- feline and -humanoid offer a comprehensive look into the diverse yet interconnected tapestry of Lyran civilization. The feline beings, with their mystical aura and heart intelligence, serve as the keepers of wisdom, while the humanoid beings act as the catalysts for innovation and diplomacy.”
(ibid., pp. 14–15)
The second common claim associated with the Lyrans is that they are much older than us, and potentially participated in our exogenesis. As Tarot Consultant and self-identifying Lyran Starseed Dea Devidas proclaims, “Lyrans have existed long before Earth’s recorded history” (
Devidas 2012, para. 3). Likewise, New Age blogger Enfinite Balance affirms that “the Lyrans are one of the oldest Starseed races out there,” and that they are even “one of the first humanoid civilizations in the galaxy.” (
Enfinite Balance 2024, para. 1). As he further asserts:
“These beings have been around for eons, and their wisdom goes beyond what we can fully comprehend. Think of them as the pioneers of the galaxy—setting the foundation for many other Starseed races to follow. They’re the cosmic architects, helping to shape the spiritual landscape of multiple star systems, including Earth.”
(ibid.)
The Lyrans are therefore not just described as existing since time immemorial, but also as the “cradle of the galactic civilizations… a touchstone for ancient civilizations that spread out across the galaxy,” and in the process “seeding various worlds with knowledge, spiritualty and even genetic material” (
McCarthy 2023, pp. 4–5). As such, McCarthy ascertains that the Lyrans had a “pivotal role in shaping the ethos of various civilizations across the cosmos” (ibid., p. 8). Holt makes an even grander claim, stating that all “consciousness” channeled through the “Prism of Lyra,” fragmenting into the “seven vibratory frequencies that represent the mass consciousness of Earth’s galactic family.” (
Royal Holt and Priest 1989, p. 3). Accordingly, the Lyrans were therefore the first form of consciousnesses, and from them was birthed “the humanoid race,” which propagated across the galaxy as the six other forms of species/consciousness: the Vegans, the Orions, the Arcturians, the Sirians, the Pleiadians, and the Reticulans, or otherwise more commonly known in popular culture as, the Greys (ibid., pp. 14–15).
Holt suggests that each of these “humanoid” intergalactic species seeded the Earth at different times, and for different purposes, be it more exploitative, as in the case of the Sirians and the production of “manual laborers,” or more benevolent, as with the Pleiadians and their intention to nurture enlightened beings (ibid., pp. 70–71). Holt suggests that the Lyrans, after witnessing “eons of conflict within the Lyran offshoot races,” likewise saw seeding the Earth as an opportunity to create a civilization that was “founded on integration rather than polarity” (ibid., 71). This is why many ufologist enthusiasts and Starseed advocates often assert that the Lyrans and the Pleiadians “collaborated” with each other “when it came to seeding activities on Earth” (
Devidas 2012, para. 3). Discrepancies however are rife on whom first seeded the human race. Whilst Holt champions the Lyrans, Bruce and Danielle Fenton proclaim in their
Exogenesis manifesto that “our first ancestors were Homo Pleiadian” (
Fenton and Fenton 2020, p. 155), and in their self-help guide to how to become a Galactic Human, Virginia Essene and Sheldon Nidle argue that it was the Sirians, by over two million years (
Essene and Nidle 1995, p. 39).
Regardless of whom seeded first, there now exists a growing ufologist exogenesis movement that believes that aliens seeded humanity. In one recent survey taken in 2017 from 24 different countries with 26,492 people, 25% asserted that they “believe that the first form of life on earth arrived here from another place in the universe” and 47% “believe in the existence of intelligent alien civilizations in the universe.” (
Lampert and Papadongonas 2017, pp. 4–7). The survey concludes that such beliefs do not come from “a marginal minority, but constitute a large and distinct segment of unconventional and anti-authoritarian thinkers with a passion for science, technology, culture, politics, and the arts,” offering the term, “Homo Universalis” as the best way to characterize them (ibid., p. 7). Individuals who believe that they are direct descendants of aliens, and refer to themselves as starseeds, particularly befit this Homo Universalis” nametag. The term “starseed” was first introduced by counterculture luminary Timothy Leary in his 1974 work
Terra II: A Way Out, in which he channels a message from the Sirius star system, informing us “of our extra-terrestrial origins” (
Leary 1974, p. iv). Those who identify as Lyran Starseeds include various claims of genetic connection, past life memories, and spiritual affiliation with Lyrans. Moreover, for many of them there is a clear affinity with feline kinship. As StarseedEm proclaims:
“I’m a Lyran Feline Being and I’d love to talk to others who are the same and find my tribe. My father is a huge golden lion and he accompanies me as a spirit guide as I’m third dimensional on Earth and he is in 4th or 5th.”
Likewise, in facilitating a past life regression session, this therapist claims her patient made a direct connection to once living a life as “a feline humanoid cat-like being” on a planet called Lyra:
“my client recalled a past life that she had on another planet (Lyra), where she was a feline humanoid cat-like being. Throughout the session, we learned all about her life as a commander of the cosmos, who helped other planets and extra-terrestrial beings that needed assistance.”
Of all the starseeds, it is often highlighted that being descended from the Lyrans is the rarest “by the fact that the original Lyrans were said to be amongst the oldest beings in existence” (
Center of Excellence 2025, para. 6). Hence, as the Center of Excellence, an online learning platform founded by hypnotherapist Sarah Lou-Ann Jones, delineates, this explains why the Lyrans purportedly make up only “around 0.3% of the world’s population” (ibid.). However, as self-identifying Lyran Starseed Dea Devidas assures, though “the number of us on Earth is currently small… I know that there will be many more of us in the days ahead, so you’ll likely get to know, and notice our existence” (
Devidas 2012, para. 2). This is because, as she further clarifies, “many Lyrans have chosen to come to Earth at this time to aid the Earth and her peoples while she goes through a period of transformation” (ibid., para. 4). For, even though “modern man has forgotten the feline human genetic link” (ibid., para. 13), the Lyrans have not, and they have returned “here to support and guide people every step of the way” (ibid., para. 2). As Reiss-James likewise corroborates:
“there are many emissaries from Lyra, reaching out to the remaining Lyrans on the various Star Planets. Their message is one of rejoining Lyra, of returning home, of re-remembering the life once lived upon the surface of Lyra.”
While Devidas would connect this to the Lyrans taking on “a parental duty” (
Devidas 2012, para. 4), demonstrating what McCarthy highlights as a “deeply ingrained sense of empathy,” which is likewise “one of the most defining traits of Lyran Starseeds” (
McCarthy 2023, p. 21), Reiss-James attributes it more to a sense of foreboding—that the Lyrans are here to warn, if not save us from imminent danger. Attributing the role of salvation to the Lyrans is according to James Lewis a common trope within ufology. As he outlines in his edited volume,
The Gods have Landed, “modern people who are no longer able to believe that humankind will be saved by God
can believe that we will be saved by powerful, godlike beings from other worlds” (
Lewis 1995, xiii). In this case, the danger we need saving from is integral to the fourth common claim centered around the Lyrans: the feline-reptilian space opera. A claim that also can be studied through the lens of conspirituality—“an ideology fuelled by political disillusionment and the popularity of alternative worldviews” (
Ward and Voas 2011, p. 103). For as Charlotte Ward and David Loas delineate in their article “The Emergence of Conspirituality,” such a belief system reflects the “two core convictions” of a “politico-spiritual philosophy” rooted in conspiracy theory and the New Age:
“(1) A secret group covertly controls, or is trying to control, the political and social order. (2) Humanity is undergoing a ‘paradigm shift’ in consciousness, and or awareness, so solutions to (1) lie in acting in accordance with an awakened ‘new paradigm’ worldview.”
(ibid., 104)
According to Reiss-James, the reason why the Lyrans are specifically reaching out right now is because the Reptilians “have infiltrated the highest realms on this planet to attempt to feed and drain the life force” (
Reiss-James 2019, p. 63). These sinister reptilian humanoids, also known as Draconians, Reptoids, and Lizard People, have been cited by many ufologists, alien mediums, and conspiracy theorists alike. Though the specific details of the mythos often diverge, a common narrative is that the Lyrans are inherently good, whilst the Draconians are fundamentally bad. For example, Reiss-James describes the Draco as a “parasitical energy, that feasted on the DNA signature of the fallen,” and were programmed with a singular directive, to “hunt and destroy the Lyrans” (ibid., p. 37). In this case, the Reptilians originate from a void like state, also referred to as “the formless ones,” absorbing “intelligence from the dead” (ibid.). However, in Len Kasten’s
Alien World Order: The Reptilian Plan to Divide and Conquer the Human Race, a comprehensive overview of this intergalactic battle, the Reptilians are described as having a physical origin from within “the Draco star system,” which is “approximately three-hundred light years from our solar system” (
Kasten 2017, p. 73). Kasten also warns that they “have been living here on Earth for thousands of years and that they consider the Earth to be their ancestral home, since they claim that they were the original occupants in prehistoric times” (ibid., p. 72).
Though seemingly inspired by Theosophical luminary Helena Blavatsky in her 1888 work
The Secret Doctrine in which she makes frequent reference to the influence of “the great dragons and serpents,” who made peace and taught the fifth human race on the Lemurian continent (
Blavatsky 1888, p. 351), later depictions of the Reptilians took on a much more ominous turn, culminating in the infamous conspiracy theorist David Icke’s 1999 work
The Biggest Secret: The Book That Will Change the World. For Icke the Reptilians are “abound in the universe and can be found in many forms and variations,” some of which are “malevolent,” and “manipulating human society” (
Icke 2010, pp. 201–2). He likewise describes them as parasitic, and compares them to vampires, as they trawl our “energy” and literally drink our “blood” for sustenance (ibid., p. 203). Moreover, he claims that they not only can shapeshift into humans, and thus can hide in plain sight, but that they even “manipulate this reality by possessing human bodies… like a sort of space suit” (ibid.). However, what specifically drew attention to Icke’s theories was his claim that many famous people, from the Rockefellers to the British Royal Family, “are simply the genetic vehicles that allow the Reptilians to control our world” (ibid.). He argues that these “Illuminati bloodlines” (ibid.) are “Reptilian hybrids” (ibid., p. 225) that have “their minds and emotions… dictated by Reptilian entities that operate just beyond the frequency range that we can decode and see.” (ibid., p. 204). According to Icke, these Reptilian Starseeds are working alongside their architects to keep us “enslaved” so that we stay ignorant to the fact that we are being harvested in “a Reptilian food-production colony” (ibid., p. 433).
Though Icke never mentions the Lyrans, he does encourage us to channel the feline in our fight against the Reptilians. Citing the famous line from Percy Bysshe Shelley’s protest poem,
The Mask of Anarchy, he encourages us to “rise like a lion after slumber” (ibid., p. 645). Likewise, he beseeches us to wake up to the tyranny, to stir the lion within us all, so that “the lion sleeps no more” (ibid., p. xxxii). Throughout his work he utilizes lion imagery as the liberator of humanity, with one image in particular noteworthy, whereby a lion is depicted pulling back curtains of “deceit” to reveal “the truth vibrations” (ibid., p. 633). Whether this is a subconscious reference to the Lyrans, reflecting Devidas assessment that “modern man has forgotten the feline human genetic link,” or a testament to the legacy of feline divanimality in general, what is clear, as Devidas further insinuates, is that “the Feline remains a majestic creature worthy of our admiration and affection,” and that we continue to look to them as “loving and supporting guardians” (
Devidas 2012, para. 13).
3. Feline Fetishism
Indeed, there are many examples of the feline being admired and even worshipped in numerous cultures across the globe, spanning as far back as “30,000 years ago” (
Saunders 1998, p. 2). As Nicholas Saunders argues in his work
Icons of Power: Feline Symbolism in the Americas “felines have had a profound effect on human sensibilities since the beginning of recorded time” (ibid., p. 1). This is because, as Alleyn Diesel emphasizes in her article on female and feline divinities, “their power, intelligent self-awareness, and mysterious shape-shifting characteristics have exerted a profound influence on humankind” (
Diesel 2008, p. 71). To such an extent that Elizabeth Benson and Michael Coe identify the feline, in their anthology on
The Cult of the Feline, as the “great unifying factor” in many cultures (
Benson and Coe 1972, v). Significantly, there are multiple cases of therianthropic feline humanoid deities being venerated, that resonate with, and arguably support, the Lyran cosmology, which McCarthy asserts is “so profoundly integral to cosmic history that (their) influence is believed to permeate various aspects of human culture and spirituality” (
McCarthy 2023, p. 5). As he further elaborates:
“from Egyptian depictions of lion-headed gods and goddesses to various Asian cultures’ reverence for the tiger as a symbol of divine energy, it’s tempting to draw parallels between these earthly myths and the cosmic feline energies attributed to Lyra.”
(ibid.)
Here lies the unanswerable question—do these examples of therianthropic feline worship epistemologically legitimize the Lyran cosmology? For Lyran Starseeds, the answer is unequivocally, yes, it does. As McCarthy poignantly demonstrates in his reference to Egyptian feline deities such as Bastet and Sekhmet, whom he identifies as “encapsulating attributes often ascribed to Lyrans” with their “dual nature of nurturing yet fierce protective instincts” (ibid., p. 17). The temptation, as he illustrates, is palpable because there is seemingly sufficient historical and contemporary examples of human–feline kinship and veneration to epistemologically support his contemporary form of intergalactic feline divanimality.
From Bastet and Sekhmet in Egyptian tradition to Narasimha in Hindu Vaishnavism and Simhavaktra Dakini in Vajrayana Buddhism, examples proliferate of therianthropic feline humanoid deities for Lyran Starseeds to espouse in justifying their cosmology. However, as McCarthy once again exemplifies, any sacrosanct feline entity can be used to support the Lyran mythos, be it Bai Hu, one of the four symbols of the Chinese constellations, or the Native American reference to the cougar. In both cases, McCarthy suggests that their qualities, such as leadership, courage, and strength, are “similar to Lyran attributes” and “reflect Lyran energies” (ibid.). Connecting the “ancient mysticism of cats” to these intergalactic felines is a familiar theme in many Lyran Starseed narratives, in which they acknowledge “the cosmic connection of cats,” as a “sacred bond” that is not “just a cultural phenomenon,” but is “a recognition of cats as cosmic intermediaries.” (
Friday God 2024, para. 15).
Do humans have however a more “sacred bond” with the feline over other members of the animal kingdom? Are not our relationships with, for example, the canine, bovine, ursine, and equine as equally, if not more, “sacred”? Likewise, is there not evidence to suggest that there is as much veneration and therianthropic idolization of these animals? Is this therefore simply a case of selective perception and confirmation bias? Or is there something about the feline–human bond that is unique and gives validity to the Lyran Starseed claims? Diesel would argue that there is, highlighting that “this ancient respect for felines” reflects “that there is a seamless link between human and non-human” (
Diesel 2008, p. 71), which Katharine Rogers claims, in her work
The Cat and the Human Imagination, explains “our willingness to accept them as quasi-equals” (
Rogers 1998, p. 181). In such a way, as William Jordan details his personal account of his relationship with
A Cat Named Darwin, “communion with a cat… is irreversible,” and “those who find it are forever altered and cannot go back to the way they once were.” (
Jordan 2002, p. 2).
Such profound ailurophiliac proclamations are mirrored in D.J. Conway’s history of
The Mysterious, Magikal Cat, in which she argues that “few species have evoked such extremes in human emotions as the feline” (
Conway 1998, p. xiii). As she further asserts:
“For centuries, felines have invoked admiration, awe, inspiration… we are fascinated by cats and their behavior, their regal bearing, their intelligence… who shares its affections as if conferring a royal honor.”
(ibid.)
Beyond the Lyran Starseed explanation for such feline flattery and affinity, that would install “admiration, awe, and inspiration,” is a more utilitarian interpretation, which Rogers describes as the cat’s “embodiment of domestic virtue” (
Rogers 1998, p. 101). For, as anti-humanist and iconoclast John Gray details in his somewhat facetious work on
Feline Philosophy, “cats domesticated humans” through “preying on rodents and other animals attracted by stored seeds and grains” (
Gray 2020, p. 16). Gray proposes that in protecting harvested raw materials through “pest control,” the feline became “useful,” if not indispensable in enabling human civilizations to flourish (ibid.). Likewise, Jaromír Malek delineates in his exhaustive analysis of
The Cat in Ancient Egypt, that feline divinanimality has its roots in “humble origins” with the cat’s “economic usefulness and its apotropaic (protective) qualities” first bringing it “widespread respect and a prominent place in the personal religion of ordinary people” (
Malek 1993, p. 73), and ultimately resulting in it becoming “a familiar sight in most houses” (ibid., p. 75).
In such a way, the cat’s utilitarian functionalism within the domestication of human civilization transformed it into a figure of prosperity and protection. As Elizabeth Atwood Lawrence highlights in her article on feline fortunes within popular culture, over time “cat figures were used for good luck amulets, to protect people from danger, and in dreams they were omens for bountiful harvest” (
Lawrence 2003, p. 629). However, it was not just the domesticated cat that was viewed as a symbol of protection. Its feline cousin, the lion, was also adopted as a guardian and a protector of temples all over the world (
Baring and Cashford 1991, p. 30), which Diesel affiliates with its “regal character… having a profound effect on the human psyche” (
Diesel 2008, p. 72). Such traits as “ferocity, strength, and beauty” made it particularly revered and “associated with royalty,” frequently being described as “king of the beasts” (ibid.). Such sovereignty thus became emulated by and associated with numerous religious and political figures, who used the lion to impress and install power (ibid.). From emperors like Alexander the Great and Ashoka to prophets like Christ, the Lion of Judah,
3 and Guru Gobind Singh, the tenth Sikh Guru, whose surname means lion, and has now been adopted by all men of the Sikh faith.
Such feline pageantry has been further heralded by what Rogers describes as its “refusal to obey,” its “independence from society and disregard for the law” (
Rogers 1998, p. 188), which Gray poignantly identifies is linked to an inherent confidence, a surety, for the feline “possess as their birthright a felicity humans regularly fail to attain,” whereby “happiness is the state to which they default.” (
Gray 2020, p. 2). As he further stresses:
“If cats could understand the human search for meaning they would purr with delight at its absurdity. Life as the cat they happen to be is meaning enough for them. Humans, on the other hand, cannot help looking for meaning beyond their lives.”
(ibid., p. 105)
The feline therefore possesses something that is potentially unattainable for us, even “unknowable,” but as Ellen Hertz concludes in her article on the anthropology of human–feline relations, it is possibly why we “are naturally drawn” to them and their “essence” (
Hertz 2024, p. 159). An essence which Rogers argues is defined by its “free spirit” and “mysterious powers” (
Rogers 1998, p. 196), which she deems makes it more “endowed with supernatural powers” than any other animal (ibid., p. 59). This is why the feline has also been central to many occult and magic schools of thought, as demonstrated by the proliferation of New Age cat “magik” self-help books that continue to be published. From Conway’s already cited 1998
The Mysterious, Magikal Cat to Ellen Dugan’s 2006
The Enchanted Cat and Reika Moonsong’s 2023
Cat Magik. They commonly profess that “cat magik is one the oldest forms of spellworking among magicians, shamans, and spiritual leaders,” (
Conway 1998, p. 3), offering detailed instructions in feline inspired medicine, rituals, invocations, and divination, otherwise known as ailuromancy or felidomancy. As Kristen Sollée further elicits in her analysis of the
Cat Call and the reclaiming of the feral feminine:
“cats have long been perceived as channels for the spirits, as emissaries of the moon’s mysteries, as guides to other realms. They have much to teach humans about embodiment and intuition, and so cat divination can be found in a variety of magical traditions.”
Such affiliation with the moon, which Lawrence connects to the “cat’s reflexive eyes that shine even in darkness” and “change from round to crescent” (
Lawrence 2003, p. 629), is also often linked more symbolically to the feline’s “wild nature” (
Rogers 1998, p. 188) and propensity for “unpredictability” (
Hertz 2024, p. 163), ensuring that it remains “untamed” (
Sollée 2019, p. xi). Thus, in the same way that the moon has predominantly been adopted to represent the feminine, so do cats, as Rogers emphasizes, “when men analyze cats, they slide automatically into comparisons with women, as if the connection were so obvious that it did not have to be explained” (
Rogers 1998, p. 166). Or, being even more forthright, using Paul Gallico’s apposite observation in his work
The Honorable Cat, the comparison has been regularly made because “no one really understands either women or cats” (
Gallico 1973, p. 14) Such is the association that Clea Simon argues in her analysis “on the mysterious connection between women and cats” in her work
The Feline Mystique that the relationship is comparable to a love story “between all women and all cats… a love story that has lasted through history, since before history… that will never end,” because it “is a love story that has no beginning and no end” (
Simon 2002, p. xiii). A “kinship” that has seeded many feline-feminine euphemisms, so much so, as Sollée attests, that “its infused into our language” and “central to our stereotypes” (
Sollée 2019, p. xv). With terms such as cat lady, cougar, sex kitten, kittenish, pussy, and catty, it becomes clear that feline terminology and allegories have been ceaselessly “deployed to pin down feminine behavior and feminine bodies” (ibid.).
Though some of these terms may be used pejoratively, this may have more to do with the successive patriarchal traditions that usurped the divine feline-feminine connection and replaced it with misogynistic connotations. As Lawrence painfully details, Christianity’s disdain for goddess worship “adversely affected the fate of cats,” to the point that “in 1233 Pope Gregory IX officially proclaimed the link between cats and the devil and gave divine sanction for the massacring of cats” (
Lawrence 2003, pp. 631–32). However, if we should contrast how we use feline terminology versus canine in contemporary jargon, it become clear, as Rogers emphasizes, that “dog terms are invariably used to demean,” while cat terms refer to that which is “fortunate and superior” (
Rogers 1998, p. 2). Consider the drastic differences intoned in calling someone a cat rather than a dog or a bitch, and the negativity of being hounded, being referred to as doglike, being presented with a dog’s dinner, and being stuck in a dog-eat-dog reality, versus the positivity of something being “described as the cat’s whiskers, the cat’s meow, or the cat’s pajamas” (ibid.). Furthermore, in most cultures dogs are deemed to be dirty and impure, while cats signify the opposite. As Laura Hobgood delineates in her analysis of
The Friends We Keep, “unlike dogs, who are usually considered to be unclean in Muslim cultures, cats are welcome and considered clean” (
Hobgood 2010, p. 22).
So, though the dog may be referred to as man’s best friend, it is clear in these examples that the cat is held in higher esteem, in particular, as already highlighted, in correlation to the divine feminine. Lawrence suggests that this is due to the feline representing “a model for maternal devotion” in their obvious affection and “dedication for their kittens” (
Lawrence 2003, p. 629). Moreover, she identifies the cat as a symbol of “fertility and regeneration for people,” which she argues would be extraordinarily important “in a society with low life expectancy and high death rate” (ibid.). Diesel proposes a different interpretation, demarcating that “the concept of virginity is central to understanding the relationship between felines and female divinities” (
Diesel 2008, p. 90). Such purity can, as Terrie Waddell argues in her analysis of female/feline allure, either arouse further “desire through their unattainably” (
Waddell 2003, p. 80), or signify them as “harmless… non-sexual and infantile,” as Yuko Minowa suggests in her research on the marketing of feline fetish and the Hello Kitty phenomenon (
Minowa 2014, pp. 95–96). In this case, the feline represents the “hyper-cute,” or what in Japan is called “kawaii,” characterized by “adorable, innocent, delicate, vulnerable, inexperienced, and pretty” traits (ibid., p. 95). Sollée calls this the “cult of cute” (
Sollée 2019, p. 139), whereby the feline, now fully domesticated, represents the “opposite of the feral feminine” (ibid., p. 143).
To what degree therefore has feline divinanimality resurged with further domesticity? Are cats more venerated because they are more adaptable to our increasingly urbanized realities and are “better suited than dogs to living in small apartments where no one is at home all day”? (
Rogers 1998, p. 115). Is cuteness reducible to familiarity and conviviality, “because we have finally accepted cats as important members of the family”? (ibid.). Rogers argues that increased domesticity has evolved in us elevating cats to the level of companionship, equals even, as demonstrated by cartoons such as
Garfield, whereby the cat is depicted as the “closest friend” (ibid., p. 138). And, as Hertz, repeatedly underlines, “cats are naturally cute,” making it easy to love them (
Hertz 2024, p. 167). On a biophilic level, we cannot help love everything about them:
“every cat lover knows that we love cats not only because the way they move, but also for their feel, their smell, and their sounds: they’re soft and sometimes fluffy, they’re clean, they meow and purr.”
(ibid., p. 173)
Hertz goes as far as to suggest that they even impact our “brain chemistry,” because we find them so cute—it’s as though we can’t help but want to nurture them (ibid., p. 167). However, what if cats were in fact manipulating us to want to care for them? This is indeed argument presented by Bill Sullivan, who has been studying the impact of a parasite called
Toxoplasma Gondii, which gestate in the guts of cats, who then expel them in their environment, “contaminating the soil, gardens, and fruits and vegetables” (
Cheairs 2024, para. 3). According to his research these parasites “can infect people and alter their behavior in ways reminiscent of zombies” (ibid., para. 1). As he explains:
“After a host is infected, the parasite forms cysts throughout the body, including the brain. These cysts, which cannot be eradicated by known drugs, persist for the host’s life and have been linked to spooky behavioral changes, doing things they normally wouldn’t do.”
(ibid., para. 5)
Like fawning all over cats. The cats produce the parasite which then keeps us drawn to them, as demonstrated in studies on rodents, who once infected with
Toxoplasma Gondii “lose their innate fear of cats and actually become attracted to them” (
Berthold 2018, para. 10). Is our propensity towards feline divinanimality therefore directly correlated to being zombified by a parasitic cat loving infection? And are Lyran Starseeds simply a contemporary example of this toxoplasmosis condition? As Jordan unwittingly acknowledges, seemingly unaware of the parasitic connection, “I was born a
Homo Sapiens. Then I became a biologist. Then, I became a cat” (
Jordan 2002, p. xiii). As he further elaborates:
“Communion with a cat takes time to mature, and it is irreversible. Those who find it are forever altered and cannot go back to the way they once were because the mind, the soul, the eye of self, arise from the physical substance of the brain, and that substance has been altered.”
(ibid., p. 2)
Our adoration of the feline is therefore rooted historically in many cultures around the world, and is seemingly linked to utilitarianism, fertility, biophilia, and even parasitism. As such it is not surprising that a hybrid form of feline divinanimality would indubitably arise alongside recent NRMs centered around ufology and alien soteriology. The surprising finding however that my research has uncovered is the degree to which fiction, in particular science fiction, mimics and potentially inspires these new forms of feline divinanimality. This does however befit Markus Altena Davidsen’s theory on the “emergence” of fiction-based religions “in late modern society” as a “part of a continuum of individualized spiritual practices” in which “wide-ranging freedom of choice” has resulted in individuals assembling “their own spiritualities out of bits and pieces of religious traditions”—from both established and contemporary inspirations, like popular fiction (
Davidsen 2016c, p. 522). In such a way, Davidsen argues that “popular fiction not only inspires belief but also prompts readers and viewers to engage in religious practices that incorporate the story-world into their own lives.” (
Davidsen 2016a, p. 490).
4. Feline Fictionalism
First coined by Markus Altena Davidsen in 2016, the term “fiction-based religion” is now commonly used to categorize any “religion that uses fictional texts as its main authoritative, religious texts.” (
Davidsen 2016b, p. 377). In comparison to other forms of fiction-based or -inspired religions the Lyran Starseed movement does not categorically acknowledge any specific fiction as directly influencing their exogenesis ontology. There are however some members who do acknowledge that certain franchises seemingly, at the very least, mimic their mythos and suggest that the creators/writers may have on an indirect, possibly subconscious level, accurately channeled the feline intergalactic cosmology. Though unverifiable, they then conclude that this theoretically offers epistemological credence to their tradition. In such a way, they echo both the prominent ufologist John Keel’s diagnosis that we are being subconsciously manipulated by “a mysterious exterior force” (
Keel 1975, p. 7), and the renowned science-fiction author Philp K. Dick’s theory that something is “writing through us” (
Dick 1991, p. 78), reminding us of our “celestial origins” and our “real nature;” and that even though “you are here in this world in a thrown condition… you are not of this world” (ibid., p. 102). For the Lyran Starseeds, that would be the Lyra Constellation.
In my research of fiction that may have inspired the Lyran Starseed movement, I have limited my analysis to literature and film that predate the initial revelation that connects felines to Lyrans. This means any fiction that was published after 1992 has been dismissed from being considered, as it is post Lyssa Royal Holt channeled message from the “group consciousness energy” called Germane (
Royal Holt 1992, para. 1). The first mention of intergalactic felines to be found in any literature or film are the Tiger-Men from Philip Nowlan’s 1930
Buck Rogers in the 25th Century: An Interplanetary Battle with the Tiger Men of Mars. In this comic strip these intergalactic felines are described as being descended from tigers in the same way we are descended from apes. However, they are from Mars, whilst we are from Earth. Unlike the Lyrans, however, they are depicted as being antagonistic and having a “war-mongering nature” (
Philips 2017, para 12). Like the Tiger-Men from Mars, William F. Temple’s 1938
The Smile of the Sphinx includes hostile felines, but this time from the Moon. They are described as “an ancient and alien race who live parasitically upon humanity,” whereby they secretly rule the Earth from the Moon, and we are their “unwitting servants” (
Doctorstrangemind 2017, para. 16). This once again does not correlate with the Lyran Starseed narrative.
Similar depictions of intergalactic feline humanoids as antagonistic and warmongering is exemplified by the Kzinti in Larry Niven’s 1966
The Warriors and by the Zygerrians in George Lucas’
Star Wars franchise, first appearing in the 1987
The Star Wars Sourcebook for
Star Wars: The Roleplaying Game, whereby they are described as building “a powerful empire by capturing and selling slaves” (
Wookiepedia n.d.-b, para. 1). Though not necessary hostile, Lao She’s depiction of intergalactic felines from Mars in his 1933
Cat Country is however not positive. He describes them as “a civilization of intelligent cat-people with human bodies and feline heads,” but he also mocks them for their inferior “felinese” language and “superstitious” beliefs (
Raphals 2013, pp. 73–74). As Lisa Raphals concludes in her analysis of the representation of alien alterity in the novel, the overall “portrait is entirely negative” (ibid., p. 74).
Prolific science fiction author A. E. van Vogt included intergalactic felines in several of his stories—from the terrifying tentacled feline alien called Coeurl in his 1939 Black Destroyer to the somewhat hospitable and intelligent centaur-like aliens with catlike features in his 1952 The Mixed Men. Perhaps a more interesting intergalactic feline, at least in relevance for our analysis of Lyran Starseeds, is THE CAT, an enigmatic spacefaring performer, who mysteriously exists without a backstory in his 1947 The Cataaaaa. This intergalactic feline is comparable to the immortal cat folk, who can manipulate physical reality, in Fritz Lieber’s 1964 The Wanderer. Like THE CAT, they mysteriously arrive in human space, but this time on a wandering planet. Unlike THE CAT, we do get some backstory—they are fleeing the culture police for their nonconformist endeavors/experiments with time and space. This certainly resonates with the Lyran Starseed narrative, as the Lyrans are also described as scientists, seeking an opportunity to experiment with genetic bioengineering on Earth.
Scientifically advanced intergalactic felines are also depicted in Anne McCaffrey’s 1969
Decision at Doona. The Hrrubans are described as highly advanced felines, who have developed teleporter technology to travel and colonize planets across the universe. Once again, this somewhat echoes the Lyran narrative, as they have likewise purportedly colonized multiple planets and solar systems, including ours. Another example of scientifically advanced intergalactic felines, who have also successfully colonized other planets, can be found in the
Star Wars franchise with the Trianii, who first appeared in Brain Daley’s 1979
Han Solo at Star’s End. They are described as “a species of bipedal felinoid sentients that are native to the planet Trian, located in Wild Space” (
Wookiepedia n.d.-a, para. 1), who are “fiercely independent,” “technologically advanced,” and “constantly driven to explore,” establishing “colonies in no less than six neighboring systems” (ibid., para. 5).
Like Star Wars, the Star Trek franchise also has several intergalactic feline species. The first, and most common representation, are the Catians, who originally appeared in the 1973 Star Trek: The Animated Series. These intergalactic felines hail from the planet Cait, also referred to as Ferasa, located in the 15 Lyncis star system, and they are long-standing members of the United Federation of Planets and Starfleet. They are therefore one of the first intergalactic felines to be depicted as fighting for peace and justice. They are also juxtaposed to a genetically augmented feline offshoot, named after the alternative name of their planet, the Ferasans, who are also sometimes called the Kzinti in connection Larry Niven’s feline warmongers. Such antagonism within their own species, in particular in affiliation with genetic engineering, significantly resonates with the Lyran Starseed mythos. Other examples of genetically enhanced felines can also be found in Cordwainer Smith’s 1962 The Ballad of Lost C’Mell and 1975 Norstrilia with C’Mell, a “girly-girl” hostess, who was created to serve/pleasure humans, and in Marvels 1971 The Cat, the Cat People are conjured by a human sorcerer and banished to an other-dimensional netherworld called the Land Within. In both instances, though these felines are humanoids, they are in fact created on Earth, thus not fulfilling the essential intergalactic characteristic.
However, even though these last two examples do not fully meet the mark, they do include another significant quality—they are both described fighting against injustice, in particular Marvel’s Tigra of the Cat People, who joins the Avengers in 1981. This is an important aspect of the Lyran Starseed narrative, with their intergalactic brethren believed to be in a perpetual battle against the forces of evil, in the form of the reptilian Draconians. In the 1980s there are multiple portrayals in science fiction of intergalactic felines being at war with other malevolent therianthropic adversaries. For example, in C. J. Cherryh’s 1981 The Pride of Chanur an intergalactic feline species called the Hani are at war with the Kif (rodent humanoids) and in Leslie Gadallah’s 1987 Cat’s Pawn feline aliens called the Oriani are facing the threat of extermination by the conquering Kaz (insectoid humanoids). The Oriani are also struggling to adapt on other planets, with dreams of reclaiming their home planet, Orian, which sounds very similar to the Lyrans seeking to reinhabit Lyra. However, though both these cases resonate, they do not include reptilian foe. For this important detail, we need to look more deeply into the 1985 intergalactic feline space opera, Thundercats.
Created by Tobin Wolf and written by Leonard Starr, Thundercats is centered around feline humanoid aliens, who are fleeing from their dying planet, Thundera, which is literally being torn apart by geographical and political fracturing. In their exodus from their home planet, they are chased by their enemies, the mutants from the planet Plun-Darr, who desperately want the Eye of Thundera, which is lodged in the Sword of Omens. The Eye of Thundera can project energy blasts, act as a shield against attack, reveal visions, referred to as “sight beyond sight,” and can summon other Thundercats at its beck and call. It is also somewhat animist, sentient even, and will not be wielded by evil. This does not deter the Mutants, who against all odds, are determined in their pursuit to try and possess it. They comprise Reptilians, Monkians, and Jackalmen, and are led by Slithe, one of the reptilian hordes. In their hunt the Eye of Thundera, they follow the Thundercats all the way to Third Earth, where they join forces with Mumm-Ra, a Third Earth demi-god, heavily linked to Egyptian lore. Beyond the obvious nod to his name, he lives in a pyramid, and sleeps in a sarcophagus. Though not specifically tied to any specie, Mumm-Ra is primarily associated with snakes, a form of reptile: his headdress includes two coiled snakes, his chest is emblazoned with a two headed snake logo, and his throne and surroundings are decorated with serpentine imagery.
The similarities between this 1980s cartoon franchise and the Lyran Starseed narrative is truly uncanny. Both promote the concept of intergalactic feline therianthropes, fleeing their home planet, which has become unhospitable due to political and environmental collapse. Both traverse space in order to find a new “earth” to inhabit. Both are in a perpetual battle with mutant reptilians, who harass them from their native solar system and, at the same time, seemingly predate and pre-exist them on Earth. And in both cases, the feline therianthropes are depicted as inherently good in comparison to their sinister, malevolent adversaries, the reptilians. Such common themes have led to some Lyran Starseed adherents to believe that the show was purposefully made to mimic their intergalactic feline belief system. As Calvin Strange Crippin, otherwise known as Wordplay King, founder of “Holistic Remedies For Ascension,” confidently states on his TikTok channel, “the cartoon
Thundercats was actually based on an extra-terrestrial feline race called the Lyrans” (
WordPlay King 2024). In response to this video, another user called ariesgege affirmed, “that cartoon was everything—it was the truth” (
aresgege 2024).
One major discrepancy in this interpretation is the chronological inconsistency—the show was first broadcasted in 1985, seven years before Lyssa Royal Holt channeled the first revelation about the feline origins of the Lyrans in 1992. As such, how could the cartoon be based upon the Starseed cosmology if the feline connection had not been made yet? To resolve this issue, other Lyran Starseed advocates suggest that the creators of
Thundercats potentially subliminally channeled the “truth,” mimicking Keel’s diagnosis that we are being subconsciously manipulated by “a mysterious exterior force” (
Keel 1975, p. 7), or Dick’s theory that something is “writing through us” (
Dick 1991, p. 78). As SpiralCatSoul suggest in his response to a Reddit post titled “
Thundercats,” initiated by r/starseeds, “one possible way to think about it is that the side of Light/Love wanted to help us remember our Galactic Soul History, and so to accomplish this over time, they provided the inspiration to creators of cartoons and other story giving sources, to be able to be viewed by many, so as to hopefully jog our memories about things” (
SpiralCatSoul 2022).
Another way of explaining the uncanny similarities between
Thundercats and these interdimensional feline aliens is detailed by Whitley Strieber in his analysis of alien abduction. He presents the theory “that the gods we create would turn out to be real because we created them,” and that “in our universe their reality may depend upon our belief. Thus, the corridor into our world could in a very true sense be through our minds” (
Strieber 1988, p. 300). Such a theory suggests that the Lyrans exist because they were imagined into reality, very possibly through the “corridor” of the
Thundercats. Whether the creators of the show meant it, or whether Lyssa Royal Holt was even aware of the show, is immaterial. What matters according to this theory is that the possibility of the intergalactic felines exists because someone had already imagined them into existence. In other words, once they had been created as fictional figures in multiple books and television shows, culminating unequivocally in the cartoon franchise,
Thundercats, then the Lyrans became materialized as living, breathing beings. This theory thus resonates with many esoteric schools of thought that emphasize the power of the mind to manifest reality—from Tibetan Buddhist belief in
tulpas and Theosophical ideas on
thoughtforms to Western occult views on
egregores and New Age championing on
manifestation. As influential twentieth century mystic and self-help guru Neville Goddard expounds, imagination not only creates reality, imagination is God, or at least, “God in man is man’s wonderful own imagination… (thus) God is your imagination” (
Goddard 1969, para. 7–8).
5. Conclusions
By 2024, the Lyran Starseed tradition had finally, unreservedly, blended with fiction with Audrey Bell-Kearney’s novel,
The Lyran Legacy: The Starseed Chronicles Begins, in which she details the story of Lyana, a feline-alien, who has integrated human society to help it evolve. Though the novel is fictional, the author openly identifies as a “visionary who recently discovered that she may be a Starseed from the system of Lyra” (
Bell-Kearney 2024, para. 1). This fictional work is therefore potentially her attempt to creatively engage with the Lyran narrative that she states has “resonated with her in profound ways” (ibid.). It is as though through the writing of the novel she is helping manifest the reality that she wants to believe in—that she is in fact a Lyran Starseed. Her imagination is thus being used to curate and mold her desired Starseed identity, whilst at the same time further propagating and popularizing the narrative of these intergalactic feline therianthropes to a larger reading public. One could even contend that in this case fiction is being used to proselytize the Lyran Starseed belief system.
Fiction has therefore been arguably both a stimulus for feline intergalactic ontology and soteriology as well as a vehicle for the supplementary dissemination of its Starseed cosmology. From A. E. van Vogt enigmatic spacefaring CAT to the heroic feats of the Thundercats, the twentieth century is literally kitty littered with inspirational intergalactic feline divinanimality that may have directly or indirectly epistemologically influenced the Lyran Starseed tradition. What is clear, however, is that feline divinanimality is not a new phenomenon, but rather a common form of interspecies veneration, whereby humans have looked to the feline as a source of providential inspiration and as a sacred symbol of purity and protection. It is therefore not surprising that a new form of feline divinanimality, centered around similar hallowed themes and tropes, but with an intergalactic, panspermia spin, would evolve within UFO/alien curious New Age traditions.
The Lyran Starseed belief system is therefore not unique, as it is both an extension and evolution of pre-existing forms of feline divinanimality, as well as a reflection of a growing “belief in the existence of extraterrestrial life,” whereby “people who believe in the existence of intelligent alien civilizations are not a marginal minority, but constitute a large and distinct segment of unconventional and anti-authoritarian thinkers.” (
Lampert and Papadongonas 2017, p. 7). With more people believing in intergalactic, panspermia narratives, it is perhaps not surprising therefore that a feline-inspired Starseed tradition would arise centered around a belief in divine spacefaring feline therianthropes, who are not only the source of human exogenesis, but also our inevitable salvation from a sinister reptilian threat. As the Facebook group, “Lyran Starseeds But A Place For All!” proudly assert, not only are the Lyran Starseeds “the most ancient Starseeds to exist,” they are also “here on planet Earth” (
Erickson 2020, para. 1), entangling and enveloping with us; an intergalactic, interspecies coevolution. Thus, to surmise, adopting once again William Jordan’s personal insights into his relationship with
A Cat Named Darwin, Lyran Starseeds would likewise argue that “communion with a cat… is irreversible,” and “those who find it are forever altered and cannot go back to the way they once were” (
Jordan 2002, p. 2).
Like many other ufology-based belief systems, the Lyran Starseed tradition also contests the conjecture at the heart of exotheology. It does not speculate the hypothetical possibility of contact with extraterrestrials, but instead proclaims that contact has already been made, and that communion has been established, both through historical, entangled coevolution and through the opportunity of channeled mediumship. For the Lyran Starseeds, the past, the present, and the future are feline. We come from the feline, we are the feline, and our destiny is to be saved by the feline—a uniquely feline affirming divinanimality, which exemplifies contemporary religious syncretism, steeped in totemic, conspiritual exotheology.