Scattered and sundry sources describe supplementary additional details and variations of existent ones in the myth as described above. I shall be sharing the most clever, juicy and lurid ones.

Daedalus' ancestry is a matter of great discord. With the exception of possibly-paternal Palamaon (an otherwise un-noteworthy Athenian citizen) his three other sets of possible parents are all inter-related; it is generally agreed that both sides of his family originate at some point in the noble house of Cecrops, and most writers of antiquity come to consensus that Daedalus claimed descent from Erechtheus and his wife Praxithea - though they can't make up their mind as to whether this pair was his parents, grand-parents or great-grandparents. If grand-parents, his father may have been their son Metion (whose name meant "knowledgable") - but alternately, it may have been their daughter Merope instead who was his mother. Then again... Metion may have been his grandfather, with his son Eupalamus ("skillful" - these traits accumulate, not skipping generations it seems... until Icarus becomes too much of a wise guy for his own good) fathering Daedalus and his sister Perdix. (There's further disagreement - for instance, as to whether Eupalamus was Metion's son or Erechtheus' - but this paragraph is already by far too long and these matters aren't that interesting or important.)

Various inventions credited to this mythical Da Vinci-calibre genius include the folding chair, the compass, the axe, the awl, the bevel, sails, statues in naturalistic poses (with eyes open and arms and legs separated), painted / engraved images and of course the one that got him into trouble - the saw.

At some point in his early career as Athenian craftsman Daedalus took on his sister's son (Calos, Talos or Talus, depending on whose spelling mistake you trust more) as an apprentice. The lad was quite talented and was believed to have invented the saw - though Daedalus himself was inspired to fashion such a device as inspired either by a fish's spine or the jawbone of a snake. Either by "accident" or unabashedly "in a fit of professional jealousy" he murdered the boy, flinging him down from atop the Acropolis.

(Some writers claim that the boy - now named Perdix ("partridge") instead of his mother - is transformed by Athena into the bird and flutters to safety, but others provide the grim axe-inspiration allusion of Daedalus' remark when being caught red-handed interring the remains of his student, claiming that he wasn't up to any foul play - just "burying a snake.")

He leaves the city - either through voluntary exile or after being banished by the Areopagus. Seeking his fortune, he ends up at the palace of the powerful King Minos of Crete at Knossos - a bit of a dump, given the then-predominance of the Cretan civilization, but he sees the place as a unique fixer-upper opportunity.

While at the court of Minos he has a few moments of joy and innocent professional challenge - he meets, woos, marries and impregnates a female slave, Naucrate, who produces their ill-fated son Icarus; he also installs an intricate (later emulated by Hephaestus on the design of a shield for Achilles) discotheque (well, (bull-?)dance floor) for the king's daughter, Ariadne - but most of his time spent there revolves around complications stemming from the unpleasant business with that whole artificial cow-costume thing, an err in judgement that leads him to subsequent compounded unpleasantness - the union of Queen Pasiphae and Sacred Bull results in the monstrous Minotaur, for whom he's commissionned to fashion the labyrinth as a home and compound. Ariadne sweet-talks him into letting her know (and hottie Theseus through her) how to find one's way through the labyrinth - it involves leaving a trail of string behind you so you know where you've been - and that of course led to the imprisonment of Daedalus and son in a particularly elevated section of the labyrinth and their subsequent flight.

Minus one son, he lands in Camicus (or Inycus, according to Pausanias) in Sicily and goes into service for the king there, Cocalus. He settles in, glad to be puttering around making little devices and inventions with absolutely no connection to bulls or birds. He finds delight solving a puzzle-challenge sweeping the Mediterranean - threading the inside of a spiral conch shell by tying the string to an ant and sending it through in pursuit of a dab of honey on the other side. Almost the same method one might employ in solving an intricate maze...

When they announce they've solved the puzzle the authority running the contests comes in person to deliver the prize! Only problem is - the authority is King Minos, who devised the puzzle as a way to find his valuable proto-engineer, and the prize is a one-way trip back to Crete. Nuh-uh - been there, done that, lost the son. Cocalus and his daughters have grown quite attached to their new court handyman as well, and between them all they devise a way to keep him around. They invite smelly smelly Minos to have a bath before taking Daedalus back, employing another new invention of Daedalus - indoor plumbing! But with the daughters at the controls, the soothing bubble bath turns fatal! as the faucets belch forth boiling water and pitch, scalding the Cretan king all the way to his new post as a Judge of the Underworld.

The unpleasantness finally resolved for good, Daedalus thanks his hosts and sets off to find his wife Naucrate, whom Minos had sold back into slavery when he'd imprisoned her husband and son. Eventually in his travels he ends up joining Iolaus, Hercules' nephew/squire, and founds a colony in Sardinia where he dies.

Did he ever find Naucrate? The mythomological record is quiet on that front, though Socrates claimed descent from Daedalus - impossible with a drowned heir and no subsequent wife, excepting the possibilities that a) he produced a few bastards along the way, no doubt byproducts of unsuccessful contraceptive test-runs, or b) Socrates was a big fat liar.

Due to his singular prominence as the greatest mortal inventor in the Classical mythological canon and in homage to his glories and missteps Daedalus has been embraced as a patron spirit to the fields of aviation and engineering - author J.B.S. Haldane goes even further and in 1924's work Daedalus, or, Science and the Future declares him the patron saint as well of bioengineering and transhumanism.

Some of the classical texts including descriptions of or references to the story of Daedalus include Apollodorus' Library and Epitome; Diodorus Sicullus' The Library of History; Ovid's Metamorphoses; Pausanias' Description of Greece; Plato's Alcibiades, Euthyphro, Ion, Laws and Meno; and Virgil's Aeneid.

As well as being strangely misappropriated as the chief villain in the '60s cartoon The Mighty Hercules, Daedalus was also the name of a human-powered flying machine constructed in 1985 by engineers from MIT, a spindly 69-pound carbon-fiber-and-plastic apparatus powered by Greek cycling endurance and metabolic superman Kanellos Kanellopoulo and a gallon of a special liquid-calorie brew. Inspired by the myth, the man-machine pair successfully made the crossing from Crete to Santorini (74 miles - 30 feet; the spirit of Icarus seized the tail and snapped it in a crosswind just before the shore) in three hours, 54 minutes April 23rd, 1988, more than tripling the previous record for human-powered flight. (The flight of the original Daedalus is off-the-record and considered apocryphal by the scientific community 8)

The name has also been used on the design of an unmade atomic deep-space probe drawn up in 1970 by the British Astronomical Society, as James Joyce's literary alter-ego Stephen Dedalus in the semi-autobiographical Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man and Ulysses and even as the name of the team of elderly engineers in the recent flick Space Cowboys. Not a bad cultural legacy for someone who probably never existed.