So far we've covered three functions: participatory awe, science-rules, and society-rules. The fourth is pretty easy to glom onto: lifespan-rules. How do you move from infancy to adolescence to adulthood to old age and then death? A good myth holds your hand for you.

There's two main aspects to this function, and both deal with adulthood: the entrance and the grand egress. It's crucial that kids learn to disengage their obedience, to say, "thanks for the help, parents; I'll take it from here." Though hopefully they will not adopt an approach as terminal as Malcolm MacDowell's:

Imagine how things would go to pieces if all the grownups were looking around at each other for permission. No, instead, there is a certain age at which, if everything has gone according to plan, we have gathered sufficient information and experience to make wise choices; and we begin to do just that. And then after fifty or so years, when we're getting a bit wobbly, we get ready to sit back and let the young people with flashier shoes take over. There's something impossibly weird about old people acting like they're not about to rest:

The interesting thing about the move from dependence to independence is that traditionally, kids were expected to take over their parents' rules without question -- but nowadays, there's a lot of judging and adjustment that goes on. You can either take over exactly where your parents left off like the villain in an 80s teen sex comedy; or you can blow things up completely, like Malcolm MacDowell. Or you can swim somewhere in between. That in-betweeny swimming is a fairly new option, which is why it makes for such an interesting theme in modern stories. In fact, it's so interesting that Joseph goes into much greater detail, which is what I'll start doing in the next section.