How can the Herotodus of Literature, the blender of all that has come to past, with his operatic aria constructions of medlies of melodic rhyme scheme be a Hydra, when Queen Elizabeth in the magical age of 1600 sat at many plays herself and witnessed the half mirror of acting in life herself, the compression of the expression of life, the squishing together of time lapsed happenstance and circumstance in one sitting, many lives come to pass within the skull of one man whom perished at 50 on his birthday. He was a sinner, that forsook his lineage progenitors to teach us the new order of how to navigate paths from out of hell into the expression of life so beautiful and tragic, a comedy arises from out of the mist of the 5th Dimension no one mentions.