I have always wanted to fly, and taking the advice of Ignatius C. Reilly, considered that the endevour could easily be accomplished by the proper application of theology and geometry.
You will never fly unless you believe you can fly. That is where the theology comes in, but more than that you need a bloody big rock, an isolated rock in the forest somewhere to launch yourself into the stratosphere.
Isolation is essential because if you have got your theology wrong then nobody will be about to see you go arse over tit.
Ignatius hit the nail on the head when he said that bad theology leads to bad lives, but that is another story.
The next thing to think about is geometry. You will never be able to fly if you don't have the correct geometry. Euclid, had his Elements, Pythagorus had his theorem, and Da Vinci, well he just flew didn't he. How do you think he got up there to paint the roof of the cistine chapel. By flying of course.
So the wings I made were more artistic than functional, more mystical than aerodynamic. They were made out to rowan. I left the leaves on cos they looked prettier that way.
Forgeting about the hollowness of bird's bones, the curvature of the prefect wing, ignoring wingspan to weight ratios, I launched myself off the rock in the forest and to my utter surprise I was soaring above the Baltic. I did not want to come down. The exotic blend of theology and geometry had enabled me to soar. Then far below me I saw an air traffic controller waving me to come down to a platform. For a momment in the tradition of all great flyers I wondered what it would be like to crap from a great height, but the moment passed and I made a magnificent landing on the Soukka jetty. You just can't make up stuff like that.
Theology and geometry will take you there.