The Half-Continent is as real to me as a memory of a great holiday; sure, I went to an actual place for my holiday, but now the cherished memory is the only reality of that time left to me, and it is with such a sweet sense of recollection that I call up to mind any location - or person, or event - of the Half-Continent.
Indeed I would go so far as to propose to you, that any such device of creation - art, books, film, music - that has truly moved us occupies such a place in our soul/mind and as such, has a force and influence on us as enduring as any real event.
'Tis a theory of mine...
Not sure why I write this, but I have, and now you have read it.
