"pimpin ain't easy" my brother

In ancient Macedonia, "thinking" was much the same as it is today. Little kingdoms - think Ukraine, Syria, Iraq, South Sudan - fought bitterly for their lands. Political pretenders - think Jeremy Corbyn, Alex Salmon, the Milibrands - rose and fell. No one had vision No one had a viable, workable, plan. Nope all they had on offer was struggle. All except for one: one gained his rule easily.

(And no, it DEFINITELY (I hope) is not that "person" who's name shan't be mentioned, just think "pig, stinking rotted flesh on feet, pig" with bizarre hair and a few bucks in the bank)

No, the 'man with a plan' was known simply as Midas, contrary to what you 'think' you know of our boy Midas, he was in reality just a poor homeowner, temporarily cast aside by his loving father. Day by day, dude Midas struggled just to get by. Each day for our boy was definitely a challenge. Midas lived in a marshy area of Asia Minor then called Phrygia. Historical lore has it that years of civil unrest and aimless wandering of the Phrygians led the elders to call a meeting of the high council to decide which warring faction - armed to the teeth with spears and swords, stones and stupidity - would rule their fiefdom next.

An oracle once foretold that a man cruising on a wagon would eventually come and put an end to their constant quarreling. So like a few days later, yep, into the picture drops our boy Midas cruising on his ox-cart while inside the ruling high council met, discussing the oracle’s prediction of "hope and change"

"Hey my brothers" they collectively screamed, noticing the arrival on a wagon (of sorts) of Midas "let's do this" The oracle’s seemingly 'nonsensical' prediction in their numb brains had come true. And thus, our boy Midas was anointed King of the realm, land, etc., etc., etcetera.

Nice work if you can get it, I guess

As a reminder of his 'good fortune' to thank the gods for his new gig, and to celebrate the end of aimless wandering for the Phrygians, blah, blah, blah, "King" Midas erected a shrine and dedicated his woebegone ox-cart to Zeus. Instead of being yoked to an ox, Midas placed his old ride in the center of the Acropolis, yoked to a pole, secured there with a large knot.

Interestingly, the knot was an intricate, complex sucker with Turkish origins, having no starting or ending point exposed. The knot consisted of tightly interwoven thongs of cornel-bark, hundreds and, yeah, hundreds of them made the knot an impressive centerpiece for the "shrine". And there it remained as an important symbol for the Phrygians.

So over the following months and years the bark hardened, and perceived legendary stories grew up involving the "shrine". It was eventually moved and housed near the temple of Zeus Basileus in an ancient city called Gordium, ruled by our boy Midas’ father Gordius. King Gordius, being the proud father that he was, (now that his son had proved himself) encouraged the (maybe even wrote some of it himself) lore about his son’s now famous tribute. People speculated as to its purpose. Most Gordiums just regarded it as a curious - dare I say wasteful/ crappy - hunk of junk.

Hearing this, and quite possibly looking for some publicity of his own, yet another 'so-called' oracle stated that whoever loosed/untied the "Gordian Knot" would lord over the whole of Asia, not just Gordium, so you know what happened, of course you do, the lore or "the legend" on the knot and it's place in history just grew and grew.

And with that, normal recounters would just say "thank you and goodnight" but then that "wouldn't be prudent" wouldn't be moi, so here's the "rest of the story" that is if you still care!

Moving ever on . . .

Over the next few years people living near Gordium looked upon their knot puzzle relic/shrine with growing and immense pride. It having become quite the tourist attraction, generating lots of revenue for local business; the local silkscreen toga business went thru the roof ("mom and dad went to Gordium and all I got was this lousy toga")

Gordium town-fathers considered it the duty of every wanderer to visit their 'knot' and encouraged them in their attempts to solve the celebrated puzzle. Stating as a "matter-of-fact" it's extremely unlucky for visitors to leave their fair city without trying the knot.

No one knows with any bit of certainty how many visitors bought into the hucksterism of the Gordian Knot. However, it must be stated, one man did in fact solve the "puzzle" and true to the words of the oracle . . . .

(And this is not just me making things up to extend the post: not that I would, you understand)

This genius not only solved the puzzle, single-handedly destroying the local economy but he also did indeed go on to rule all of Asia and conquer all of the (then) known world. His name, you ask inquisitively . . . He was called Alexander, Alexander The Great.

In fact, Alexander! It was said, considered his victory over the Gordian Knot to be the most decisive battle he ever fought.

And with that, I awaken from my long sleep, not at all as comfortable and refreshed as I had assumed, having completed a transatlantic journey (Lord knows I'll NEVER suggest that again) and checked in with the local GP, failed the first driver's exam, missed the closing hour at the 24 hour Tesco, endured the s-l-o-w-n-e-s-s of the local Boots shop clerk and was allowed to dine on Cornish pasties and sausage rolls courtesy of Greggs

Sigh, "hello world"