A story from history “You will kill yourself,” Emperor Nero uttered majestically staring straight into the eyes of Seneca. Seneca had been summoned to the Palace. When he was ushered in, the Emperor was playing a violently cheerful tune on his fiddle. He made Seneca stand and listen to his recital for a long time. Every now and then he threw a mocking look at Seneca, his former advisor. “You have the liberty to choose the means of your death,” the Emperor said with ostensible magnanimity. “That’s very generous of you,” said Seneca. Nero glowered at him for a moment, ran the bow on his fiddle to produce a culminating crescendo and then handed over the fiddle to the maid who stood near him holding a chalice of wine. The Emperor took the wine from her hand just as he handed over the fiddle and took a sip. “Death,” said the Emperor, solemn and mocking at once. “Death is the wish of some, the relief of many, and the end of all. Which is it for you, Sene
Cerebrate and Celebrate