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Since brevity is the soul of wit, and tediousness the limbs and outward flourishes, I will be brief. Your noble son is mad.
Well, I pulled off my presentation of seven new inventions of my previous week, but there were no trumpets, no applause, and no yawns either. Some of those old dudes present appeared to believe that I was mad, but others were hesitant with that assumption and tempered their belief with a “perhaps” and there were a few “possibly not”s.
We moved on with the book University of Nike until I brought up the Classic Roman Stoics and Epictetus’s ideas about top-level competitive sports like the Olympics being very bad for the mental health of the winning athletes. They are treated as gods and it corrupts their soul and they eventually go mad. Mad in pursuit, and in possession so. The almost gods are either crippled in the body or treated as worse because they were second and thus nobodies. Their ambitions?  On purpose laid to make the taker mad. 

That’s me for today. {Hamlet – Act 2, Scene 2} {Sonnet 129} – Shakespeare {Enchiridion} – Epictetus