Have I mentioned before my big problem with knights in the modern era?

I think I have.

But I'm going to mention it again.

I have a big problem with these new-fangled knights.

Used to be--supposedly, though I begin to suspect that Sir Gawain and his kindred were as fictitious as my teachers have told me--that knights knew their roles.

A knight's role is to kill the dragon--or whatever form the monster should take. For Sir Gawain, I guess it was that giant Green Knight, but that's close enough to a dragon in my book.--Anyway, yes, a knight's role was to ride up on his white charger, brandishing his steel, and slay the dragon. Yes, he might get burned a little. Yes, he might lose a limb or so. But what is the point of facing the dragon if you aren't risking life and limb? It'd be a pretty pathetic dragon otherwise, and where's the honor in slaying a pathetic dragon, I ask you?

But these modern knights seem to have changed the rules.

To begin with, the white chargers: they've exchanged their powerful, half-wild steeds for much more convenient bicycles or cars, much safer means of transportation, to be sure. But were the white chargers ever intended to be convenient? I don't think so. They were meant to be tamed, the knight was meant to earn the beast's trust so that he could ride it into battle, an ally in his private war. If he's never even tamed the wildness of this pristine mount, what makes him think he'll survive the wildness of dragon fire? Convenience isn't always the wisest route, but modern knights seem to have forgotten that.

And the whole "brandishing the sword" bit? I don't think I've seen a knight with a sword in a very very very very very long time. As a matter of fact, I don't think they're even given training in sword-brandishing these days. After all, if they aren't planning to actually use the thing, what's the point in learning how?

The fact is, modern knights rarely even try to approach the dragon.

Oh, they might sneak up on it from behind now and then. They'll ride their bikes or drive their snazzy little cars up as close as they can, then slip up behind the beast, generally while it's snoozing--dragons don't look particularly dangerous while snoozing--and take a brave look at it. Maybe they'll even snap a picture and carry it back to their castles to show all their friends: "Look! I saw the dragon! Look how close I got to it! See? See? I am brave! I am mighty!"

I can envision all your disgruntled expressions right now, my lads. "Hey!" you're sulking. "You've never had to be a knight! You're just a maiden. You've never had to face the dragon. You don't know how blastedly difficult this whole chivalry business is! Let's hear you complain about convenience and wildness and sword-brandishing and fire after you've tried to fight the dumb beasts yourself, huh?"

My response: "And you've never had to play the maiden's role, now have you?"

For without knights brave enough to face the dragon, the maidens are left without rescuers, without protection, stuck in a rather stifling dragon's den full of gaudy and useless treasures.

Modern Knights: "Well, develop a skin, why don't you?"

So we do. Our skins get tougher and tougher. We harden our hearts and harden our minds and harden our bodies. We don't like being trapped in the dragon's den . . . sweating in dragon-heat isn't particularly pleasant, and golden coins don't make comfortable beds. So at last, we steel ourselves up, draw ourselves together, and one by one, we have to go forth and face the dragons for ourselves.

But by the time we're tough enough to do the creatures battle . . . by the time our hearts and our minds and our bodies have hardened sufficiently to protect us against dragon fire . . . we've become dragons ourselves.

I don't like being a dragon.