Restructuring the dragon lineup (probably gonna need to toss in some code to prettify the list at the bottom and I definitely need to expand my lightbox plugin to allow for figure caption injection on solo slide links). How it starts as of my leaving to workout:

On Dragon Weaving

Honesty, I haven't a clue why, in February of last year, I found myself pondering the web of dragon mythology that so ensnares the imagination of man. Of how the machinations of my mind materialized the path it would then travel, I've an even clumsier grasp. I believe there is something significant to be found within the folds of fumbled expression held by the essay I had composed. Now, a year later (finding myself in possession of more diversely and formidably equipped faculties), I shall recompose its art and prose, hoping to attain a composition that more capably communicates that which I have to say. It shall be begin with a declaration.

I find them fascinating, the common threads with which disconnected hubs of humanity weave their native narratives. The similitude with which humanity engineers itself by independent means astounds. It warrants remark, in this digitally polarized age of humanity where tribal gutturals dissemble themselves as discourse, the resemblance that runs through the clutch of reflections caught by the collective looking glass.

Such abstraction, dear reader, may satisfy my selfish need to soliloquize; however, it achieves very little in the way of conceptual connection. We need something concrete, an example exhibiting qualities consistent with the previous prose. What though? Which player shall I pluck from the troupe?

Of course it's f$&kin' dragons. I named this f$&kin' thing On Dragon Weaving, how the f$&k would I ever work this f$&ker into an essay befitting of the name were I not, inevitably, about to begin talking about dragons? I mean … I name dropped the little f$&kers in what I believe we've settled upon calling this essay's preamble. Let's hop f$&kin' to it, shall we?

Sooo, I painted us a subset of dragons arbitrarily selected from the set of humanity's mythoi, two of which you've already seen. Since you're reading this in English (one would assume since I'm writing it in f$&king English), there is a strong chance that global westernization has narrowed the scope of what you think of as being a dragon. The Game-of-Thronesian depiction at the very top likely screams dragon while the fella that follows, the recreation of Bertuch's illustration from the succinctly named Bilderbuch für Kinder: enthaltend eine angenehme Sammlung von Tieren, Pflanzen, Blumen, Früchten, Mineralien, Trachten, induced an assessment of some form or fashion as to whether he fits the bill. I have no interest in browbeatingly badgering you about what makes a f$&king dragon. I simply thought I ought point this out and inform you how this essay shall define one. It basically boils down to this: if it's a giant serpent, you can probably get away with calling it a dragon.

Originally, the globetrotting began in Ancient Egypt. Taking what I've just relayed into consideration, however, I think Ancient Greece may be the better port of origin. The reasons are threefold:
⑴ Those for whom the previous passage applies likely received a western education that included at least a little taste of Greek mythology. The backbone of Greek mythology is, in fact, a dragon bone.
⒝ The etymological origin of dragon is the f$&king Greek word drakōn (pronounced δράκων).
(𒄩𒂔𒌈) While some of the dragons, like those that drew the chariot of the sun god Helios, happened to have wings … most of the little f$&kers look more like snakes.