Peace upon ye and all your kin. ☘️
I was thinking about dragon. Because there's dinosaur. 🤔
We will see how batding is born in this.
It's the logically civilised version of dingbat. All of its meaning.
The Word "Dinosaur"
It was coined by, you bet that right, Sir Richard Owen — in 1842. He was a British biologist and comparative anatomist — not, for instance, a Gujarati pineapple dealer, as some may incorrectly assume for no reason whatsoever. It was during the "British Association for the Advancement of Science" venue — not the "Pineapple Futures Exchange Summit" in Surat. Indeed, it was not.
The term was nicked from the Greek, obviously.
Deinos (ΔΕΙΝΟΣ or δεινός) = terrible, fearsome, mighty.
Saurus (ΣΑΥΡΟΣ or σαῦρος) = lizard, reptile.
So if we're going full Greek revival:
ΔΕΙΝΟΣΑΥΡΟΣ or δεινόσαυρος = deinosaurus ➡️ dinosauria ➡️ dinosaur ➡️ dino ➡️ batding ✨
⬆️ The birth.
Owen was examining some very large, fragmented fossil bones. To group them together as a new "superorder" of extinct reptiles, he made up this scientific umbrella term. He wanted to impress the public and fund his museum projects. And oh boy, it worked. He wrote 🎺🎺🎺:
I propose for such grand saurians the name Dinosauria.
And with that, a whole kingdom of thunder-beasts was born — all without ever finding a complete skeleton.
Absolute salesmanship. Bloke was pitching a Victorian cinematic universe.
The Novel Connection
Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's "The Lost World" (1912). It was the origin rocket. 🚀
The first and sky-rocketed literature in entertainment about dinosaur (or batding). Then people followed the trails.
Oh, we peasants have processing units. But we just shrugged it off.
Eh now, sure... one more thing, so. I've the hens need feedin', y'know yerself. Moustache.
The Batding
Batding sounds like some kind of midnight bog creature.
Aye, it wasn't a dinosaur, no — it was a batding. Flew right at me granddad's face. Took his hat and trousers. Blimey.
Other said,
Me da' always said never whistle past the marsh after dusk... or the batding'll get ye.
What in the name of a working brain is a batding? Sounds a bit scientific though. A bit.
Please say yes or the batding'll get ye.
It's not peer-reviewed, it's fear-reviewed.
Batding'll nick yer keks if ye don't shut yer gob. 💀
(🔬 Ethically Reviewed by the Society of Goblins ⚖️✅)
The Coin 🪙
Thus all came from the same main isle.
- Coin the term.
- Sell the fantasy.
- Write the fiction.
- Build the museums.
- And somehow... never question the plot holes. 🤔 Indeed.
The Dragon 🐉
Prior batding, there was this mythical creature called the dragon. Everyone in the world seemed to see them and put them as their symbols. They literally observed them, not allegorically or other -ally.
It's like this:
(World.) We saw 'em.
(Modern.) No, you didn't.
(World.) 🤷 No, we didn't.
"Prior batding", as though batding were a geological epoch.
Mesozoic ➡️ Cenozoic ➡️ Post-Batding Era ☠️
Let me pause the jest for a bit and continue.
Some prominent nations or cultures exhibit:
-
China The long (龍): imperial symbol of power, order, and divine right. Often seen clutching a flaming pearl. Not to be confused with Western winged types.
Dragon stance in kung fu (especially Shaolin): Dragon Style (Lung Ying 龍形) Originating in Southern Chinese martial arts — notably Fujian Shaolin. Practised by Southern Shaolin monks and stylists like Lam Yiu Gwai (in the 20th century), but its roots are cloaked in... well, Shaolin smoke. 🧘 -
Bhutan Druk Yul: Land of the Thunder Dragon. The white dragon on its flag holds jewels — wealth and protection. -
Vietnam The dragon (rồng) is an ancestral totem. The Vietnamese people are said to descend from a dragon father and fairy mother. -
Wales (UK) Y Ddraig Goch (The Red Dragon), flag icon since at least the 15th century. Represents fierce resistance (and possibly a recycled Roman draco standard.) -
Mediaeval/Heraldic Europe House banners, crests, and crowns. The dragon as a symbol of might, danger, and divine foes (often slain by saints). -
Serbia, Georgia, Russia, and various Eastern Orthodox They use emblems contain dragons or wyverns as part of Saint George's lore. Saint George: The Roman-Briton Turned Dragon-Slaying Saint Though not British himself, George became the patron saint of England. He was a Roman soldier, high-ranking officer under Emperor Diocletian (3rd century AD). He refused to persecute Christians. Got martyred. Instant legend status. The dragon-slaying bit appears centuries later, around 11th to 13th centuries, particularly in the Legenda Aurea (Golden Legend) — a wildly popular hagiography compilation written by Jacob de Voragine in the mid‑13th century. There, St George turns into a full-blown chivalric knight, rescuing a princess from a dragon in a Libyan town. Pagan city, dragon eats people, George rides in, slays it with a lance, converts the whole city. It's Arthurian in flavour, not apostolic. His dragon-slaying legend was popularised during the Crusades. It fit perfectly with mediaeval English ideals of Christian virtue beating chaos. He was adopted officially as England's patron saint by the 14th century, under Edward III, who made him the symbol of the Order of the Garter. You'll find loads of statues of Saint George in Britain, often in cathedrals, public squares, and even pub signs. Example, St. George and the Dragon statue at St John's Wood, London (near Lord's cricket ground). "George" doesn't quite march in line with Marcus, Gaius, or Flavius. The name George comes from the Greek Γεώργιος (Geōrgios), meaning farmer or earth-worker, from γῆ (gē) "earth" and ἔργον (ergon) "work". So, it was originally the bloke who tills the soil, not quite the dragon-thrashing icon we've come to know. Now, in Roman context — particularly a Greek-speaking Eastern Roman (Byzantine) realm — it makes more sense. Saint George was supposedly from Cappadocia, a region in Asia Minor (modern-day Turkey), heavily Hellenised and later Romanised. So Greek name + Roman soldier = plausible hybrid identity. Hence, not Gaius Georgius Maximus, but just Geōrgios, which was transliterated to George later by Latin scribes and eventually Old English chroniclers. -
Africa From the ancient lands of Ethiopia to the valleys of the Congo, tales of giant serpents and fire-breathing beasts abound. The Dahomey people spoke of Aido-Hwedo, a cosmic serpent who carried the world in its coils. Not malevolent, mind — just colossal and serpentine, a proper celestial infrastructure beast. In the Sahara and Sahel, stories from the Berber and Tuareg peoples recount massive winged serpents lurking in remote canyons — guardians of forgotten oases or banes. -
Middle East Back when Babylon was still in its prime, the Mušḫuššu ( 𒈲𒄭𒄊𒍣, "Furious Snake") was the symbolic beast of Marduk — the chief deity.In Arabian lore, Tannin or Tanīn (تَنِّين) — a fire-breathing serpent — shows up in pre-Islamic and early Islamic texts, sometimes as a creation of God to test or punish. -
Bible & Torah / Tanakh: The Dragon in Scripture Dragons in here are depicted as unfriendly creatures, the adversaries. -
More Nāga — Naga (Indonesia, same root as India). Vritra, a dragon-serpent, called the drought demon. Ryū (竜 / 龍) — Japan, inspired by the Chinese variant. And so forth.
Dragons were not invented as metaphors — they were recollections of real creatures, later reduced to metaphor. From Africa to the Middle East, India to the Far East, they weren't merely symbols — they were beings. Described plainly, reverently, sometimes fearfully, but always as real.
Dragons (and wyrms) in Irish and Scottish lore were always there — they just wore Gaelic coats and snuck into poems, river names, and saintly anecdotes.
Of course, we can always pretend that never happened. 🍺
But if dragons weren't real to begin with, how indeed can we reduce them into metaphors? We don't get universal metaphor without some shared experience first. Those people before us — within similar period of time — didn't all hallucinate the same beast for poetry's sake.
That's like turning fog into furniture. 🍺🍻
This is my opinion, I think dragons were a part of the pre-Deluge world.
Deluge = the biblical flood — recorded in Genesis 6–8.
Diluere (Classical Latin — verb) ➡️ Diluvium (Classical Latin — noun) ➡️ Diluve (Old French) ➡️ Deluge (English).
Commonplace. The way we see lampposts, vending machines, or plonkers texting on motorbikes.
The Book of Enoch flat out says the earth was filled with violence, bloodshed, and corrupted flesh — not metaphorical sin, but actual biological madness. That implies these sort of beings were numerous, familiar, part of the landscape.
Lo and behold! The Book of Enoch — redacted by Rome. While Enoch himself is mentioned here and there, even verbatimly quoted in other Book. Like in Jude 1:14–15? That bit is taken from 1 Enoch 1:9. Oh fantastic, that. We need not to learn the context and the documentation — said Rome. Fantastic.
Speaking of withholding the full picture — let's talk about another grand tale carved out and handed to us like gospel…
And when we look at the mystical Grand Canyon. Oh!
Then we look around to learn how it's shaped like the remnants of something majestic, as in there was infrastructure set atop the site. We stumble upon this:
The Grand Canyon was carved over tens of millions of years by the slow erosion of the Colorado River, exposing nearly two billion years of geological history in its rock layers.
Marvellous billion-year guesswork, that. Doughnut-cravat-wearing Francis Bacon would be proud. Mate, if that's the script, then why are many of the layers in the canyon flat and unbroken for miles, with no signs of erosion between them? That is utterly strange if millions of years supposedly passed between them. Don't you think? Meanwhile, we've got canyons in the world that formed in days or weeks due to massive floods and sediment dumps. No? Tis an ultra-specific exception? All right.
That's like we see remnants of a demolished house, only the foundation and rubble left — comes the lab-coat-wielding gentlewallyman:
CLEARLY the result of lava flow, followed by ice expansion and squirrel erosion across 12 million years.
🤔👀 Um. 👀 It does look like the result of massive squirrel erosion.
As you can see, the bite marks align perfectly with Pleistocene-era rodent activity..
🤔 What now? Place what? Place to seen? Era? Oh, yes. Absolutely. One time, that was a place for people to be seen.
Wyvern and Dragon
The difference between a wyvern and a dragon:
-
Wyvern Two legs and two wings: four-limbed.
Not breathing fire, just breathing.
Simply a lean, agile beast, not chatty or even gossipy like some dragons. Sky predator. A menace by nature.
-
Dragon Four legs and two wings: six-limbed.
Often breathes fire.
Wyvern = vicious flying lizard who eats you mid-sentence.
Dragon = classy sorcerer-knight who might eat you after reciting poetry.
Dragons get statues. Wyverns get hunted. Well, wyverns' lack of social grace and face-chewing reflex should justify that.
Wyrm
The word wyrm (also spelled worm, wurm, orm, etc.) is indeed related to dragons — but it's got that older, more Anglo-Saxon / Norse / Celtic root on it.
Wyrm is from Old English wyrm, meaning serpent, dragon, or reptilian beast. Related to Old Norse ormr, Old High German wurm, and Latin vermis (worm).
Dragon ➡️ from Greek ΔΡΑΚΩΝ or δράκων (drakōn), meaning serpent ➡️ then Latin draco ➡️ then Frenchified to dragon.
Wyrms are often described without limbs. Massive. They're usually tied to land or water. While dragons are tied to sky and fire.
They aren't depicted as regal or wise like dragons — but rather grim, cursed, hoards, poisons, devours silently.
Therefore a wyrm is a type of dragon, but not all dragons are wyrms. Wyrms are the old, slithering, cryptid ancestors of the polished museum dragons.
Examples: the Lambton Wyrm and the Laidly Wyrm.
Wyrm is a mediaeval term. In modern literacy — as in now — they call it "worm". Lambton Worm. 🤦
Metaphor / Allegory Bit
As such:
- "The dragon represents the subconscious."
- "Actually, it's a metaphor for imperial tyranny."
- "You see, the maiden is fertility, and George is the civilising force..." Right. And milk is oppression.
Thing is, the same people who reduce dragons to mere metaphors also believe that dinosaurs roamed millions of years ago, but somehow no old cultures ever carved a single T-Rex until they were shown fossils in modern museums. Curious, that.
But indeed! According to the royals:
65 million years ago, dinosaurs perished.
2 million years ago, the Homo thingy learned to bang rocks.
10,000 years ago, he accidentally invented bread.
Then finally, the iPhone.
Meanwhile, every culture:
- Painted dragons, not "raptors" (the Hollywood-lizard, dinosaur ones, not hawks. Well, they painted hawks. See how confusing this is. Street Hawk would nod.)
- Feared serpent kings, not "migratory feathered reptiles".
- Sang songs of winged fire-breathers, not prehistoric climate collapse.
So if humans didn't exist back then… who documented all those bloody dragons? Bob the Martian sketch artists?
(Bob.) (Reading. Shakes his head.) Why me, mate?
Because... even the gods of Olympus tremble in your presence, good sir.
(Bob.) 👀 When?
A while ago.
And of course, the FLAGEN FLIEGEN tactic:
- Say "millions of years ago".
- Claim nothing before 4000 BC was written.
- Dismiss every cultural testimony as myth, unless carbon-dated by the royal guild of lab-coat acolytes.
Absolute genius.
But unfortunately, we peasants remember. Not from scrolls, but from stories, instincts, and granny's wall carvings.
But… the Fossils!
🤦♂️☠️
Nothing says empirical science like:
We found a jaw fragment the size of a thumbnail and reconstructed a 40-foot feathered dinosaur with mating habits and a favourite colour.
Mate, they always go:
- "You see this curved rock? Clearly, a prehistoric lizard with a flatulence-powered glider sac."
- "This femur? Tells us it lived 122 million years ago, enjoyed mangoes, and sang lullabies." BLIMEY, DID IT?
Fossil reality check:
-
Fossil literally means dug up. Latin: fossilis ➡️ "dug up". From the verb fodere ➡️ "to dig". Past participle stem: foss- Could be bones, shells, leaves, anything. - The problem with fossil is that most are fragments. The rest is speculation with plaster and PowerPoint.
The ideal conditions for fossilisation are rarer than a sober bard at a tavern brawl. We're talking:
- Rapid burial, to keep the bladdy scavengers and weather out. Usually in mud, sand, volcanic ash, or the like.
- Low oxygen, so decomposition slows down — rot, bugs, bacteria? Bugger off.
- No acidic soil, else your bones melt like cheap chalk in vinegar.
- Mineral-rich water, to replace the organic bits over time — a slow petrification opera.
And they found it. Then somehow, plenty more were discovered.
The bones, aye, the bones exist. But the theatre around 'em? That's where it all smells of performance art with a lab coat.
I mean really, millions? 🤷
Hundreds, max thousands in my opinion — < 5,000 (5,000 years TOP, give or take — considering the massive bones, much slower degradation).
Indeed, let's go bloody anti-science. ☠️
Well, it's a theory, not some mathematical certainty. But mine comes from the studies of the world cultures — theirs just "suddenly appeared". The bones never changed, but the story around them did. Their story suddenly appeared from thin air.
It shows that "science" itself birthed a new mythology.
If we trace back that bit, then it should tie to whatnots they put in academia. Darwin for instance. ⬅️ Same isle.
As if we've just caught Darwin nicking biscuits. Oi! Like that.
Darwin ➡️ Owen ➡️ Doyle.
As sung by the Carpenters, Why do batdings suddenly appear? 🎵 Every time cravats near? 🎵
And was sparked by Copernican bonkerity. ⬅️ Different isle.
Galileo came later with ego and bad timing. All to further cement the foundation of plonkerism. Even Monsieur Voltaire was dragged into this opera. Poor Voltaire indeed — so enchanted with Reason and Liberty, he missed the subtleties of Galileo's hubris and the actual scientific hesitations of the time. But hey, it made good theatre for the Enlightenment, didn't it?
When we go further back, Rome fell... then went metaphysical MLM.
I am not slating Yeshua, only side‑eying the machinery wrapped round Him. The compiled bundles, canonical edits, boardroom creed councils, the symbolism…
Yeshua never spoke, Avenge me, mates. Because it would be contradictory.
It's like ordering a burger in a post office. Keep the change, me heartie. (👀 Postmaster stares in disbelief.)
But if He did, that would've rewritten history into a biblical Mad Max saga.
(Battle-scarred Miryam ha-Magdalit, casually strolls — side-eyes like divine lightning.)
(Shimon the Zealot.) Gather the lads. Shimon or Kefa or Petros, be yourself. Yochanan, get the maps. Yehudah... oh wait, never mind. 🤔 Mister Ish-Qeriyot, you're still the regional operative from Qeriyot, aye? Do that. We need you to be there first. Use that skill you have. Everyone ready?
And Rome? Is about to REPENT… BY FORCE! The empire would have crumbled from sandal-clad disciples doing flying kicks while quoting Isaiah — and without their pouches, because Yehudah and his intel squad nicked every single Roman on the way in — coin sacks, gear rolls, even that emergency fig ration. My gold!, they shouted. My bawbags!, the other yelled. 👀
Isaiah, because he was a fiery prophet from the "Old Testament" whose poetic warnings and divine monologues sound like they were written for apocalyptic martial arts sequences. He's the equivalent of John Wick but without packing heat and with Shaolin precision.
Assyrians? Gone. Babylon? Sobbing in the background.
⬆️ But! With that hypothetical scenario, convolution would still emerge — just cloaked differently, wearing someone else's robes. Classic cosmos.
(Professorial squint. Cravat firmly attached to forehead.)
Rome didn't burn, it rebranded. True origin of batding. ✨
Remember once they showed photos of a digging site — with the fossil was a perfect plonker? I mean intact. Can you imagine how very selective the air, water, microorganisms, scavengers, and such in that particular place? And they always have that bit, "This will rewrite the evolutionary timeline." Blimey. If I bury a chicken today, even in ideal soil, in 10 years it's either dust, mush, or stolen by dogs. But their chicken? Stays intact for "100 million".
Too, that amber situation — insects trapped mid-buzz inside fossilised tree snot. Nature went, You ain't goin' anywhere, lad, and turned sap into honeyed resin tomb. For millions of hindquarters. 👀🤦
Here's the kicker:
- Ancient cultures called them "dragon bones" and used them in medicine. Precisely that.
- The Chinese literally ground them up and prescribed them.
- Europeans thought they were giant's bones, buried post-Deluge.
Yet now:
No no, peasants were wrong. It wasn't a dragon. It was a vegetarian theropod with feathers... that couldn't fly... but looked like a bird... and growled.
Right. And any goat can do calculus.
Meanwhile, dragons are consistent across cultures: move, breathe, roar, and terrify. And they were described by people who could still describe their breakfast.
Kung Fu Style
Mate, we can't just imagine a being and adopt a bloody fiction as a working kung fu style. There is no unicorn style. 🤔 I believe so. I have faith in my opine of "there is no unicorn style".
Shaolin monks didn't copy the form of metaphor to knock out bandits. What? An exception?
This how it would play out in the telly show "Kung Fu" with not David Copperfield:
(Master Po.) Grasshopper, practice your dragon style.
(Kwai Chang Caine.) (Sits on a stool. Imagining dragon.)
(Master Po.) That's enough, Grasshopper. Now, bring me lots of honey and candybars. Grass. Hopper.
(Kwai Chang Caine.) Mas. Ter. But. Your cataracts!
(Master Po.) (Sighs.) If you can give me insulin shot without waking me up, then. You'll be. Allowed to. Practice the dragon. Style. Again. Good. Luck.
(Kwai Chang Caine.) 👀 I. Will. Try. Ma. Ster.
(Master Po.) (Smi. Les.)
In that song, George Lam is shouting about a man must be self-reliant, resilient, strong in character, and dependable — while Kwai Chang... which isn't played by David Copperfield, is American-practicing or British-practising the style of facial stillness.
Now, we highly anticipate the duel of the century, Oxford-cravat vs Cowboy-eagle. I'm rooting for the bell. Perhaps, I can get it for free.
Radiocarbon Dating
As if we're having dinner with radiocarbon.
It's the method used to determine the age of organic materials — wood, bone, cloth — based on how much carbon-14 (¹⁴C) is left in the sample.
The theory goes like this:
We know how fast carbon-14 decays. If half of it's gone, it must be X years old.
The half-life of radiocarbon is 5,730 ± 40 years. ☠️
Here's how they "measured" it:
-
Short-term decay experiments: - They measure decay rates over a few years, or even days.
- Then they extrapolate that curve mathematically over thousands of years.
That's like observing a candle for 10 seconds and declaring how long it will burn over 3 days... even while wind, humidity, rats, and your uncle's elbow knock it about. -
"Cross-verification": They "verify" the decay rate by comparing it to tree rings (dendrochronology), coral, lake sediment, etc. But those "controls" are also dated by guesswork and assumptions, not clocks. So it's circular — a feedback loop of confidence, not certainty. -
Faith in uniformitarianism: The belief that decay rates never change. They say the radiation exposure has been constant for 50,000 years.
They build their timeline on this:
- We assume the original
¹⁴Clevel was constant. - We assume no contamination occurred.
- We assume the decay rate is universal and unaffected.
- We assume our calibration method is correct.
- We assume the sample is representative.
That's not science — that's Assumption Jenga.
One dodgy block — one solar flare, volcano, or goat sneeze in history — and the numbers slide into fantasyland faster than a batding chasing trousers.
It's not about "knowing" — it's about accepting a model and building everything on top of it.
Oh, batding. Care for one? Hope you brought wine. Batding'll get yer tastebuds.
16th Century Onward: From Late Renaissance to Early Enlightenment
The rewriting. The "let us replace myth with method" movement.
- 1543: Copernicus' De Revolutionibus repositions the Earth.
- 1650s–1700s: Royal Society forms, Baconian empiricism rises (pioneered by Francis Bacon).
-
1760s onward: Natural history books begin rationalising dragons as... - Crocodile misidentifications
- Whale bones
- Exaggerated travellers' tales
Meanwhile, fossils found (which had long been called "dragon bones" in China, "giant bones" in Europe) are reclassified as:
Dinosaurs, coined in 1842 by Richard Owen.
No wonder so much epic music emerged from the 16th century onward.
Printing press = musical inflation.
Circa 1440 (in Mainz, Germany), Johannes Gutenberg's invention of the movable-type printing press ➡️ 1500s: sheet music gets printed en masse. ➡️ Result: a manufactured explosion of "refined" musical culture.
It was a beautiful noise to hide the noise of shovels.
Bacon
Baconian empiricism fits brilliantly when we're dealing with:
-
Machinery and Engineering Building functional, repeatable systems. Designing infrastructure — bridges, gears, pulleys, or anything mechanical that requires rigorous observation and testing. -
Pharmacy and Medicine Isolating compounds (hello... sodium and potassium!) Testing drugs, formulations, and medical treatments. -
Electronics and Physics Electric circuits, semiconductors, batteries, quantum mechanics. Anything requiring precise measurement of forces, current flows, magnetic fields. -
Forensic Science and Investigation Crime scene analysis, DNA testing, and blood spatter analysis. Here, Bacon's approach shines brightly. -
Food Production and Agriculture Surely, like optimising crop yields, engineering pest-resistant plants, breeding stronger animals. - And so on.
But it cannot handle anything too vast, too abstract, or too grand in scope — things like the origin of the cosmos, the spiritual realm, or even the meaning of life. It is perfect for breaking down and building up anything that fits in a lab.
Essentially: Observe first, think second. Don't let tradition blind you. Go out, touch things, measure them, test them, and then speak.
If then you'll get a similar understanding from the tradition, aw shucks. Deny it. Science.
This is like a junior dev with too much caffeine rewriting a new framework that no one asked for, renamed all variables using Norse runes, and removed backward compatibility.
Look at it:
Blimey. Somebody's surely talking in runes. Oh by golly, it's deployed too? Mate, stop it. No more a gallon of espresso for you. Six mugs will be enough.
At least someone takes natrium seriously. ᚾᚨᛏᚱᛁᚢᛗ = NATRIUM. File system... Hm. 🤔 All right, 7 mugs.
Continuing the Bacon, when we apply that to something already widely known, we should look like a certified plonker.
Fire for instance: I don't believe fire is hot unless I burn my elbow.
Dragons in worldwide records: No bones? Must be myth. Then... Oh, there's bones. With similar description... Not from dragons! 👀 Then... Here's a full-blown reconstruction... novel... be amazed by it. Aaah... Aah. Ah! Be a good mesmerised muppet now. Say ah. 👀
Flood narratives in every culture: Can't recreate a worldwide flood in a lab, so... definitely... metaphor! DEFINI. TE. LY. Then they acknowledged the plate tectonics... Uh, but it's not that flood. This is a science flood! Be quiet. Ours has isotopes and carbonates, yours has... rainbows and arks. There, science.
🤷
It's applicable at certain degree. But not all degrees. We don't wear doughnut on our necks all the time, do we? Or we do. Perhaps it'll be the next fashion trend.
Key features in this:
- A deliberate shift from divine cosmology to rational materialism.
- Dragons became dinosaurs, fairytales became fossils.
- Giants turned into hominids, and all folklore was boxed into anthropology.
And thus:
The dragon was not slain, merely rebranded.
As batding.
In the beginning was the Dingbat — a creature of disarray, loitering in margins, oft misused by printers and the uninitiated. But lo! From its chaotic coil emerged Batding, dignified yet plonkerised, upright and bit downright. A serifed muppet, with ligatures of bonkers. Some are born sans-serif...
The Batding... has ligatures of bonkers.
Pattern of the Cravatists
Remember the other saga about Natrium and Sodium? ⬅️ That bit above ⬆️ (hello... sodium and potassium!) This one is precisely like that.
Pattern:
- Common knowledge? Rename it.
- Ancient stories? Reframe them as "myth" — unless the cravat says otherwise.
- Universally recognised creature (and matter)? Classify it, own it, display it for coin.
Perhaps Davy once responded, That's a myth!, when he heard "natrium".
(Lab assistant.) Sir, everyone calls that natrium. That substance you just isolated?
(Davy.) 💢
Just like "dinosauria" sounds far more expensive than "dragon".
Because cross-cultural recognition is such a terrible inconvenience. Heaven forbid the Babylonians and Chinese agree on something.
It needs to be distinct, you see. For science! There, science. Be quiet.
In a Conversation
(Bloke A.) (Sits.) Oi oi oi, mates. Did you see that movie about batdings?
(Everyone else besides Bloke A.) What?
(Bloke A.) Oui, it had batdings screaming and devouring trousers.
(Everyone else besides Bloke A.) What?!
(Bloke A.) Ja, the film wasn't that good. I mean, then people wore no trousers in it.
(Everyone else besides Bloke A.) What?!?!
Batding 👖Rated T for Trousers.
Batding: The Theme
BATDINGD# minor. D. Sharp. Minor.
Lyrics:
Aaaaaaah 🎵
Aaaaaaah 🎵
Then what justice is left for the wise to rob? 🎵
🎸🎹
Batding'll nick yer keks if ye don't shut yer gob. 🎵
🎸🎹
Aaaaaaah 🎵
Aaaaaaah 🎵
Credits Roll
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