Sidling between conceptions of authenticity and the (d)evolution of storytelling.
I reach for the classics and let Homer inspire my indulgent witticisms.
100 years ago a boat hit an iceberg. Some lived. Some died. Some got rich off the story of which, the only salient point that burns in my brain is humanity's arrogance.
I've loved this story ever since I first heard it, mostly because I'm a fan of everyone in it. Also, who knew that Rollins was a King Crimson fan.