Life is but a dream. The Brits remind us that they have The Bard in all that they do when they do their narrative best. That dream is also a nightmare. Hamlet knew it as he paused clutching his bodkin, facing the existential threats we all eventually suffer, if we are allowed to live at all.
There is no greater suffering than that experienced by a child from a personal assault by a trusted adult. The West derives much of its authority falsely from the rape of the innocent, whether it be its children suffering at the hands of priests and teachers and familiars, or its adults suffering under the sadistic authority of university cults of future authority or the ranks of the military or any cut throat business enterprise the GNP depends upon.
At every turn there is a Bill or a Hillary or a Donald or an Ivanka or a Jared or a Vladimir-their manipulated armies of the abused waiting in the wings to act in thrall over permission to project their abuse on a monumental scale-who keeps the tradition of loyalty through sadistic abuse alive.
Then in the middle of the world falling apart because the abused no longer know how to inoculate themselves and others against a simple virus, comes the closing scene of season two of UNFORGOTTEN; we are saved by beautiful narrative that proves our species is not utterly rotten out to the core by the abuses of the elders.