A benevolent lord sits on his throne and bestows graces upon his people. He assigns them tasks, in accordance with their skills, and instructs them to report back to him on their progress. The lord's kingdom is repaired and expanded, and the knowledge contained in its libraries and stewarded by its illuminati reaches its peak. The kingdom has arrived at an intellectual renaissance, with due care taken to apply objective rigor to the acquisition of facts and data. The kingdom's sciences and academia flourish, its pride in its reason and rationality impenetrable. The lord smiles equally on himself as on his subjects for their jobs well done.
Then enters the lord's jester, barking crazily about the death of mental reasoning, crying in grief for the loss of scholarliness and truth. "What is this strange comedy, dear jester?" asks the bemused lord. "Are you mocking our great achievements in advancing the minds of our people?"
"Oh my lord, I would not dream of it!" cries the jester. "But, my most gracious high lord, the news is terrible! I just spoke with the old hermit in the mountain. He told me all about the world, the places we haven't explored, even truths about magic, physics and mythical creatures. Oh, all our knowledge, all that research...". The jester begins to weep.
The lord gives him a moment, then asks impatiently: "And?!"
"We've got it all wrong!"
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