"And do you not think it disgraceful when men need medical treatment, not for wounds or because of an epidemics, but because of the idle, dissolute manner of life which we have described fill them with humors and winds till they are like pools of water…" - Socrates: Plato's Republic.
There is a stale desiccated humor that comes forth with ignorance, made more so with flowery writing and grandiloquent speech. When one has taken it upon themself to make an extraordinary claim, (comparative to the study and practice of phycology) one must have extraordinary evidence to back it up in order not to sound like an utter fool. This being said, I found much amusement in finding irony in the words and statements of a man so highly praised for his philosophical findings. Shown in one of his counterparts more highly acclaimed quotes.
"Wise men speak because they have something to say; fools because they have to say something." – Plato
For the quote above about the disgrace of the mentally ill could not be so deeply one-sided of you were to glue together the backs of two quarters to assure your winnings. He not only states that they should be killed for they serve no purpose but he also says that if allowed to live they should not be allowed to copulate with the norm. Well for Socrates, I have a story. It begins as many teenage romance stories do, but be warned this story is in no way commonplace. A bewitching young lady with hair dark as the fur of the black jungle cat and eyes like mint leaves comes to meet a boy. The boy is just as attractive with hair curly and thick like the mane of a lion and eyes like baked earth. She see's him and he sees her and automatically she knows there is something different about him. He looks her directly in the eyes, never once glancing to look away; and tell her how pretty she is. It was said with such genuine childlike honesty she can't seem to shirk it off like she had all the other petty compliments. She finds out later that the boy has a slight mental disorder that makes him slow, he can function and act as we do but if she was a fox cunning and quick, he was a clumsy oversized puppy, curios and timid. She could not find fault in him, she loved him through and through and she endured all the strange stares that the boy never even noticed. If Socrates could be raised from the dead by the hand of one of his gods and use his flourished writings or pretty words and drudge up disgrace in a story such as this, than I may just have to lose my self-asserted faith in humanity.