The gentle Lady, loose at randon left, / The greene-wood long did walke, and wander wide / At wilde aduenture, like a forlorne weft,

We forget what we have learned in the last 60 years. At university I once asked one of my lecturers why he was not talking to us about continental drift and I was told, sneeringly, that if I could I prove there was a force that could move continents, then he might think about it. The idea was moonshine, I was informed.

That being said, if you hurt my boy I will introduce you to a whole new realm of pain and suffering. We're talking stuff that would make Heironymous Bosch shit his britches, capisce?

empty pleasures