There is no danger, no great hardship or purpose. No great exploration and expansion, just a subdued sense of safety and life that is not life at all. Life in decay, the curse of modernism that will be long forgotten in history. No drama, no Greek tragedy, just the obesity of the mass man and his repetitive menial office tasks, filing documents and closing tickets. How woeful that we not only have no glory, we have forgotten what it even means. There is no thrill of the hunt, the closest we come to that exhilarated adrenal gland is the brief panic of a missed alarm.
Woe! Woe to him consumed by intoxicants in replacement of higher goals. Even Everest is beset by corporate bureaucracy. Another one of Hannibals games.