Do you ever ponder why the present generations feel so easily drawn, attached to, tales of magic, sorcery, and quite impossible circumstances? Fictions, surely there is enough surrounding out own dark times, wholesale disconnection, illogical divisions, petty squabbles, matters that the heights of general education and mental dexterity should squash into oblivion quite simplistically. We are an age seemingly being marooned by our capabilities, beset with problems of our own inauguration, expanding unendingly by casual avoidance and purposeful contempt. If we do not recognize a thing then it do not exist, cannot flourish, we rather boastful propound, in this world of our very personal construct.
So much easier, more acceptable, to blame the dragons, or the evil hordes that permeate the ether. We so easily descend to the archaic, the fabulous, the mystical, when matters beyond our ken or easy resistance present themselves physically, unexpectedly.
‘Tis time the Khaleesi say, ‘To break the wheel’.