The Real King of Rock and Roll

"The Father himself willed that the path of tillage be not smooth, and first ordained that skill should cultivate the land, by care, sharpening the wits of mortals." Virgil-The Georgics

Tonight. Well, wasn't tonight an interesting night. You all know the story of Icarus. In order to rescue his father from the maze in which they were trapped, Icarus built wings made of feathers and wax and, discovering the beauty in flight, soared higher until the heat of the sun melted the wax holding together the feathers and he plunged into the sea and was drowned.
Imagine that his father was witness to this extrordinary event. His father who had devoted his life to raising a son who would, in time, celebrate this understanding by reaffirming his father's thoughts, by taking what he believed to be the crux of that instruction and adding to it his own unique experience and use it to bring to his family the redemption they required to uphold the system which had allowed Icarus to grow into adulthood. Instead, Icarus, a wilful and selfish child, was beguiled by the understanding he had, half sown and never fully reaped, and wondered, 'If I do not fulfill this, my destiny, what would be the harm? I have learned these lessons, I have trod in the metaphysical shoes of my father and he's a sour old bugger to boot.'
To watch him drown must have filled his father with shame, because all a father has to do is teach his children the consequences of living for uninspired happiness. I'm sure he thought he had failed, brought this senseless death to visit and being wholly unsatisfied with the moral, he must have railed against the God who built this machine in the first place.
My answer is, of course, fuck you. Icarus didn't know shit about the wind, or the updraft present in harmlessness and didn't know that trust is a sacred cow.