Below Dragons, There Be
Empire City suffers under circumstance unprecedented in history. Or does it? Depending on how one takes one’s metaphors, it may be that the pair of dragons, which rose one day out of the sea to take up a circling position above the metropolis, occasionally spitting fire down at random targets, is just another form of an old problem, one going back to Ur or Sodom and Gomorrah or Rome or London or Sarajevo, each in their own way suffering calamity that subsequently defined them. Dragons come in many forms—earthquakes, vulcanism, sacking, a blitz, snipers. As buildings burn, collapse, streets are torn up, and safety becomes a once-long-ago idea, what the people in those cities do determines whether the city survives or fades into myth. Individuals are often remembered. Gilgamesh, Lot, Nero, Churchill— Duncan Ripple, Swanny Dahlberg, Abby. Who? One day in the future, they will be remembered as the heroes of Empire City. They, the last of Late Capitalism’s Royalty, who