Where, one might ask, is the correctional facility for the mistakes of life? Where is the recording for those who slept through the moments of personal bifurcation and mediocrely missed the control points of their possible takeoffs? Where to shake the person responsible for the replay or for assigning extra game time by the scruff of the neck? So we go through life scratching our heads on the topic of “if only” and don’t even think about what if a miracle happens... It’s not difficult to make new mistakes or repeat old ones, and then throw up your hands: “Oops!” What if a mistake is made collectively and something more than personal happiness is lost? Shall we overcome it, warn us, or will we just run wild? Progressive is not so much a right as a duty! And who will need Sisyphean labor if they either don’t understand it from the very beginning, or will receive it with hostility? Not believing their own Cassandra!