dragons & f-35’s

Throughout history, humanity has been fascinated by creatures of destruction. Myths spoke of fire-breathing dragons descending from the heavens, reducing cities and villages to ashes. In ancient times, dragons were seen as an external threat, forces of chaos beyond human control. Today, that fire-breathing terror is no longer a legend; it is engineered in laboratories and factories, guided not by fate, but by the hands of governments and military-industrial complexes.

The replacement of mythical dragons with military aircraft is a stark reflection of how human civilization has evolved, no longer fearing monsters of imagination, but the machines of war we create ourselves. Where dragons once represented evil, now missiles and fighter jets are paraded as symbols of power, not horror. We’ve made peace with destruction, as long as we’re the ones pulling the trigger. But unlike dragons, our weapons answer to no myth—only to men driven by profit, fear, or politics. We haven’t tamed chaos, we’ve simply given it coordinates. The younger generation doesn’t flinch at airstrikes. War is streamed in HD, destruction liked and shared, tragedy scrolled past.

Maybe dragons weren’t monsters after all. Maybe they were warnings, ancient symbols etched into myth to remind us of what happens when power runs wild, when fire becomes a tool rather than a threat. They roared not to destroy, but to wake us up. And now that we’ve replaced them with steel beasts and guided missiles, we’ve silenced the roar… but not the warning. The monsters were never out there, they were always becoming us.
🐉🐉