Here be an oracle. Despair all ye who seek her. Magic will have its cake and eat it too. Okay, well. So I was mixing metaphors. I was new to the gig. But as far as I could tell, there were three kinds of people. Those who wanted confirmation that they'd chosen the correct path. Those who wanted to deny there was any sort of destiny at all. And those who wanted to tear it all down. So why was it always the third type that showed up at the door to my 1975 Brave Winnebago, dragging me into their power struggles and using my past against me - when I didn't even know what that past was? Could I...