Forebears

One doesn't always follow one's forebears nor father.

Am I supposed to, single-handedly, strengthened only by the mythical magic of my forebears, in heroic fashion smash his armies and save the beautiful princess from his clutches to finally deliver him to...

Firstly: We, your forebears, cannot help you from the land beyond. Secondly: The slayer of wheelchairs came here incognito and therefore could only have brought a small number of guards with him. And thirdly: there is (supposedly) no beautiful princess. Got all that? Well, then have fun with your task.

Farmers today use technology not available to their forebears, to maximise yields from their crops and livestock.

Our technologies can record phenomena well outside the realm of human visual abilities—things like heat and moisture, the measurement of which would have seemed magical to our forebears.

Unless you’re African, your skin probably carries traces of your Neanderthal forebears.

My father is a chair caner; his calling is twofold: to repair seats, chairs or armchairs and to preserve the craftsmanship of our forebears.

Our diabetes comes from our forebears.