When offered the choice between suicide and keeping quite about his social, political and philosophical views, Socrates is said to have responded that "The unexamined life is not worth living". To the shock of the assembly, he chose death over silence.
The courage behind the gesture is inestimable. The idea of life as a constant quest for understanding through scrutiny and appraisal is also one that I hold dear in my own life.
Nevertheless, I do think that these graffiti make a very excellent point.
We should examine ourselves and our lives certainly but does every single thing need to be turned over to inspection? There's a question about discernment loitering in there somewhere.
And something else we should bear in mind...
Age is something that doesn't matter unless you are a cheese.
Mon dernier soupir
(My Last Sigh, 1983)
Luis Buñuel
Picture the scene: I have been reading in bed for the previous half hour. Ross asks for the bedside light to be put out which I duly do. I then spend a good 30 seconds looking at my book and wondering why it is not lit up. Now that's age for you.
We are still a house in mourning after the passing of our dear cat, Nutkin. I really miss him first thing in the morning when I come downstairs to wake the house up and make my first coffee. There's no friendly greeting, demand for food, requirement for a quick cuddle. After fifteen years, that's a huge gap in my life. And I'm letting go of a little more sadness as I type these words.
In Parliament, it finally became crunch time for the Brexit Deal.
I do not understand how any Labour MP can vote for a Brexit Deal which clearly dispenses with any built in support for workers' rights, equality of opportunity and environmental concerns.
Similarly, I cannot see how anyone (let alone so many) in the Conservative and Unionist Party can vote for a deal which undermines the unity of the UK by separating Northern Island off with a front stop and also gives momentum to Scottish Nationalism.
And yet that is precisely what happened.
I haven't seen The Dream for a long while now. I think I got Dreamed out at one point what with versions as opera (Britten), ballet (Ashton) and music (Mendelssohn). I was looking forward to entering that enchanted wood again where the course of true love never does run smooth and where we need to examine ourselves in order to discover where our true heart lies.
After Julius Caesar last year, my expectations for this Bridge Theatre production were high. It was meant to be as immersive as the Roman play had been and that was a bit like being in a war zone.
And it was a bloody brilliant show - I haven't seen a better and more magical Dream since Peter Brook's legendary RSC production in the early 70s. It was truly imaginative and very sexy throughout. I wanted carnal knowledge of so many of the cast members and I've not experienced that in a play for quite some time.
I found David Moorst's Puck impossible not to fall in love with and/or desire. His appearance on stage was a magnificent attempt to tent my boxers in a public place and caused me a great deal of leg swapping.
As did Paul Adeyefa and Kit Young, the two young male suitors Demetrius and Lysander, whose characters seemed more than likely to meet up after the show for a drink and a chat. Hem
Oliver Chris as Theseus/Oberon kept the character and status of the original characters but swapped lines with Hippolyta once we entered the realm of faerie. Gwendoline Christie was the captive Queen of the Amazons, Hippolyta, and then Titania but using Oberon's lines. Hence all the business with the love potions became Hippolyta's way of teaching Theseus about the variety of love and how imprisonment was not the way forward.
It also opened the way for all sorts of gender fluidity throughout the production and meant that we encountered the uproarious and genuinely uplifting conjunction of Oberon the Fairy King and Bottom the Weaver.
The mechanicals and their play also became a thing of joy and delight rather than a way of laughing at and mocking the yokels.
And there was a whole cast of magical acrobats as sundry fairies and sprites.
Bliss. Bliss. Pure bliss. A totally immersive and transformative experience even in the cinema.
Ross's parents have been on holiday in Japan and have been examining how different life is within a completely different culture. There were many planned activities visiting shrines and sampling food. I suspect that the dressing up day was a bit of joke to the locals but allowed for the tourists to enact their Mikado fantasies.
Then, in perfect synchronicity, out of nowhere, came Giri/Haji on the BBC - a police procedural thriller set in both Tokyo and London. It is probably the most stylish thing I've seen on television this year. Think Killing Eve crossed with Scandi Noir with a bit of Queer as Folk thrown in and a lot of Japanese culture. It's fabbity.
Giri/Haji means Duty/Shame and so there was a lot of different sorts of guilt and trying to do the right thing in impossible circumstances. I found the whole enterprise completely enthralling in a way that I haven't with much British product since the first series of Killing Eve.
The ensemble cast where exceedingly good but, for me, Will Sharpe as the mixed-race, emotionally strung out, Metropolitan party fiend, gay rent boy Rodney was an absolute star. Loved it.
Some sad news in that Danny's decided to set aside escorting at present for personal and social reasons and so I wondered if Matt might be up for joining the fun with Luke.
After the exchange of a few photographs, Matt declared himself to be definitely be up for fucking Luke but a bit hesitant about Luke going at him. There is no denying that Luke is large: that can be an enticement to some and off-putting for others.
As far as Matt was concerned, I think it was one of those "It's been a while" feelings.
Right up until the moment that the clothes were coming off, Matt was still asking for us to treat his ass gently. I took along a small butt plug which seemed to help open him up the last time I saw him.
And it worked.
Somewhere along the line, Matt examined the state of his libido and flipped from being a nervous virgin to a wide open, thousand-dollars-a night hooker. He flung those legs to Jesus and carolled his pleasure to the heavens while Luke gave him a five star seeing to. Every so often, he fancied a bit of topping and Luke was happy to be his wide receiver for a while but it wasn't long before Matt was face down on the mattress moaning and groaning once more.
And it was a pure delight to observe them both banging each other senseless. Ha!