A young Heathen sought to join a Kindred. He found a respected Gothi and met with him and proceeded to monopolize the discussion by spewing forth every bit of lore that he knew.
He spoke of Eddas, and runes, Vril, and ordeals, Asatru, Vanatru, and Rokrtru. He touted racial pride and condemned Nazis in the same sentence. Half understood words like Honor, and Frith, were tossed around.
The Gothi listened patiently as the young man went on and on, and picked up his drinking horn. The young man was so full of himself that he didn’t even notice as the Gothi poured a cup of cider vinegar into the horn. He offered the horn to the young man, who quickly drank it, and nearly
choked.
“This mead is no good!” the young man angrily proclaimed.
“No, it is not. You are like this horn: full of vinegar. You first need to empty your horn before it is fit for a draught from Odins horn. Otherwise, no matter how much knowledge I pour in, it will be spoiled.”