There was a time, right? A long time back, The Danish toy company LEGO just put out sets of small, brightly colored plastic bricks that snapped together. It was up to kids themselves to use their own imaginations to turn all those loose bricks into something new and exciting and creative. Solid rectangular buildings, red, green, blue and yellow robot-shaped things, or solid square buildings. Whatever their little hearts desired. As the very concept of “imagination” began to fade, LEGO adapted, adding sets of snap-on wheels to the kits, so kids could make boxy, ungainly vehicles. Then came the human figures, usually with clearly specified occupations (firemen, cops, doctors, apparently to deal with all those LEGO fires, crimes, and deadly illnesses). Realizing that even with wheels and human figures to give them some guidance, this new crop of dumb kids, dulled into semi-consciousness by a steady stream of television and sugary breakfast cereals, had no idea what to do when presented with an open-ended toy like that, LEGO began releasing specific kits with instructions to make specific things one way. Now kids were given the specific tools and told exactly how to make a LEGO County Courthouse or Commmunity Center or Junkyard. Things were starting to look up.