There’s an unfolding storyboard inside us all. Its script rolls into our heads like clockwork, narrating our perspectives quite independently from us ourselves. It somehow has a force of its own, following a course that is separate from our own personal sense of volition. Startling as it may be, this narrative appears to control the fates of men. Like dominos slapping against one another in fatalistic patterns, the storyboards inside men blend and mesh with one another in innumerable ways, yet always settle into shapes that are wholly foreseeable beforehand for the trained eye. The causes and the effects, the accidents, and the fateful inevitables, all come together to convey a repeating tale of themes.