We are very much on the same page here, except that that's Batman's justification, not the film's. I actually wrote an entire essay about this (Christopher Nolan's Useful Lies). Short version is: the movies aren't endorsing that view at all. If you'd rather not read it I can try to summarize.
While I agree there is sometimes a "chosen one" element, I think some of those examples are the opposite. Thor's hammer isn't wielded by Thor just because he's throw, but by anyone worthy.
Ditto for being "noble" enough to use the Lantern Ring.
That's an important element: that's specifically countering the "chosen one" stuff.
You are not the only hero in the world; there are other people who are more powerful and better than everyone else, a super-race of chosen protectors, each with their special gifts, but the cool kids are still from Hogwarts and the Muggles need to stand aside.
The "better than" you're describing is the "pure of heart" better than, which is not might makes right at all.
And the logical circuit still remains. Might proves right. The fact that you have been made mighty is a sign of your rightness, because you live in a meaningful/purposeful universe in which cosmic powers and agencies make sure that the pure of heart are made our heroes. How do we know you are right? We know because a purposeful universe has made you mighty. Now get out there and punch some things, kid! The world needs you!
Yeah, this is definitely a thing that exists. I like those stories, too, but I think those are pretty different from most superhero films.
I think whatever we do with it, it's on us. I like your Twinkie example. I don't want Twinkies to go away. I just don't want people to try to make them into a main course. Some people do, but that doesn't sour me on the whole concept or think that it doesn't have a lot of value and use.
But I will agree with maybe the implication here, that some people care way too much about this. To the degree I've cared about MCU films (and I have! And I am 100% not embarrassed by it) it's been the degree to which they reminded me of ideas and concepts I hold dear. The people who watch and deeply care about every single output of that machine, who react to every development in even the mundane soap opera quality twists and turns, are pretty alien to me.
His big idea, as I understand it, is to give us real people who live in a fantastic universe. He is an anti-Tolkien. Our humans are "all too human." The result is that the fantasy (that promise of transcendent meaning -- who does the red witch really serve, why are they white walkers doing what they're doing) devolves into mundane accidents of who is boinking whom, which party is nursing a petty jealousy against some other party, etc. In short, it gives us a soap opera.
It is here that you should sense apparent weakness in my argument, a contradiction to be seized upon. Up to this point I have been complaining about Super-Hero fantasies offering a purpose-driven universe in which there is a purpose, a grand design, and in which our heroes are chosen by fate. And yet, when GRRM offers us a mundane universe, I complain that it is devoid of deeper meaning, a mere soap opera. We shift from the transcendent to the mere gossip of "how things happened to happen." Can I escape the contradiction? Or am I just a malcontent?
What disappoints me, I think, is that Super-Hero Movies and GRRM (a lensed through Home Box Office) have a low view of humanity. Martin's "realistic" view of humanity is that of a soap-opera in which Hobbesian self-interested pigs do Hobbesian pig things, two steps away from a state of nature in which life is brutish, nasty, and short. I find this both repugnant and wrong. People are amazingly cooperative critters. We're not so simple as self-interested ego machines, but an evolutionary product of reciprocal altruism in which we really do care about each other, in which we quite commonly set aside our personal interests for the greater good. If the state of nature were, as Hobbes imagines it, "the purge," we would not have survived long enough to form civilizations in the first place. Martin revels too much in the low, Hobbesean view of the human person. I think J.S. Mill is right in saying that such a view says more about the person forwarding the view than the human race itself (i.e., we are not pigs, but you might be).
What disappoints me, on the other hand, with the transcendent fantasy/mythology of the super-hero genre (that purpose-driven universe in which our heroes are chosen and protected by fate) is that the transcendence to which the point is also so very low. Some people are bad. Some people are good. The good people who are stronger than everyone else must go out and apply violence to the bad people until they are no longer a threat. Rinse and repeat. That is, the God running the MCU is a five-year-old. There is no prospect of the sublime here. We don't leave these movies more complicated, ready to face the challenges of our own lives, but rather we are given a release, a pornographic safety-valve for our impotence, rage, and uncertainty (HULK SMASH!!!). We leave the film slightly dumber than when we went into it. The film believes we are stupid and tells us a stupid story, and just as much as people can rise to a challenge, they can also sink into lowered expectations.
In short, what bothers me is not the purposeless universe of Martin or the Cosmic Multiverse of the MCU, but rather the low view and low expectations of both.