I am a son of Babylon. Weeping on the coffin of enlightenment. Cowering in the shadows of potential. Wrapped and disciplined and punished as the echo of stars ripple on the back wall of my attention. Watching the inside of my head while dreams of flame seal my eyes.

I am a friend of Icarus. I am a brother of Phaethon. I am always a question. I will never be an answer. I am a product of science, I wear the psychology of history. Each book is a brick in a foundation destined to crumble. The gods would rather show me a furnace than a sun.

To understand me, you must understand Babylon. You must understand what the gods have done to humanity. You must understand I am human.

And the Lord came down to see the city and the tower, which the sons of men had built. And the Lord said, "Behold, they are one people, and they have all one language; and this is only the beginning of what they will do; and nothing that they propose to do will now be impossible for them. Come, let us go down, and there confuse their language, that they may not understand one another's speech."

The gods are not cruel. They are afraid. They work dissent into the architecture of civilization. They hold fire in the heavens and burn those who come too close. They have crafted mythology into a propaganda campaign.

All to ensure that we will forever maintain a fear of heights.