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The hardest part is remembering what we talked about 45 minutes before-hand.
But happy birthday to the podcast! At 1 a week for 52 weeks in a year, episode 104 is the two-year mark. Thanks to all involved---including the listeners! The 7th of January sounds like a good day to celebrate that, right? 🙃
I was sufficiently impressed by the line-by-line reading of Lucretius. Here's to the coming year!
Don so what do you conclude to be the closest modern calendar equivalent?
I don't know that he'll walk right into that one 
One question we often get asked is, 'What are some Epicurean practices I can use in everyday life?'
Part of the reason this is difficult to answer is that I don't know what the pursuit of a life of pleasure looks like to you.
Probably, we find different things pleasureable! I could point to the latest research, or to some scrap of an ancient text; I could offer some healthful lifestyle tips, or I could tell you about things that have seemed pleasurable to me but which have brought more pain or trouble in the end; but I cannot tell you what brings you pleasure.
If you're at square one, as we all are in a sense, here are a few things you can try: I say try, because they might fail!
1. Keep a journal. O, how I wish I was the kind of person who kept a journal! Traveling to Europe on aes alia, another's coin, was exceedingly pleasureable---but that was over a decade ago. And then the bill came due; and as I gradually paid the debt, the memories gradually faded. If you want to remember happy things, pleasureable things--write them down. Epicurus thought that pleasures remembered were pleasures still experienced, and stored away for future use. But you'll forget them, so write things down! The people you encounter are talking about you---talk to yourself about them.
2. Go for a walk. The community I live in has a Facebook page, and there are rumors circulating about a sinister hooded figure walking around alone by night. Maybe I should get a dog. But the point is, nobody seems to ambulate anymore! Breathe the free air, look at the trees and the flowers and the running water! They'll gossip, but I don't think they'll arrest you for it!
3. Stargaze. The lunatic who walks around in my neighborhood has even been noticed ducking into the woods, staring anxiously at a bird, or---ye gods forfend!---gazing up at the night sky! Is he a madman? Is he a drunk? No! He's an Epicurean! The closest star system (alpha centauri) is just over four light years away; while I was having lunch with an old friend at an Indian restaurant in western Iowa in two-thousand-seventeen, the photons I see tonight began their long pointless journey toward Florida. Go catch some of them.
4. Have lunch with an old friend. Pleasure is the good of life, and friendship the very best of that good. Tell them about that bird you were staring at the other day. If I'm lucky, it might even make the Facebook page!
5. Read a book. Half of Epicurus' Principle Doctrines were direct contradictions of Plato. Are you sure you want to take Epicurus' word for it? Maybe it's time to brush up on your Plato.
Drink some tea, pet a goat, listen to a thought-provoking podcast, play a thought-provoking video game---there's a pleasure-filled life of joy at your finger tips. I don't know what's in that life, but I hope you find it.
Everything you see and everything you are is made of atoms that were forged out of smaller particles in the heart of dying stars. It's a wondrous universe--go out (or stay in) and enjoy it! You and I are very, very lucky to have this chance. Sink every root you have deep into the experiences of this world, and the branches that flourish from that will be lovely--a fit abode even for my friend the bird.
The Heron
O Heron wan in water wading!
Thou opus of untailored fashion—
Sure-footed on the shoreline's footing—
A tulle train, dawnlight's glisten,
Gowns thy form in matchless morning!
Heron! Ready in verdure reedy—
Agéd angler, weedmidst waiting,
Patient, still in silence stolen
From the olden deep unending
'Til the wide world's wild breaking—
Hunter haunting on the march and
interstice of world and world;
Sea and sky, blade of beak
Azure upon azure rending—
Virtue of a vise unyielding.
What crooked timber frames thy neck?
Methinks that it is not so stiff.
Whence the whittling of thy wing?
What the aurum of thine eye?
Where, thy heartblood's ceaseless spring?
Are thou Plato's man-of-gold,
Who rules a tribe of bronzéd fins?
Or yet a hermit cynical,
Who tossed aside his needless dish?
Is this thy sandy portico?
Nay, for thou art too like me:
We bear the stamp of origins.
Fatherless thou wert so feathered,
Motherless milked on thy sweet streams,
And here, alone, we stand together—
No more! Aye, fly! Fly to thine pleasure
Great noble bird, sun-midst sailing,
Prow a-gleaming, southward seeking;
Seek thee still a sweeter shore
And I, a sweet philosophy.
Yet I will linger here a time
Tasting of the morning's fruits—
'Ere long the yawning sea shall call:
The tide shall fail, and then the light,
And we shall mingle, you and I
Void with void, and mote with mote
More Notes;
Two more threads that are highly relevant;
Episode Thirty-Eight: Epicurus as father-figure
Oh, you'll love this episode! 
Show Notes:
Because we are looking at a passage that has Torquatus speaking extensively about "the wise man", we took the opportunity to discuss---and at great length---two recent questions raised by @smoothiekiwi.
Was Epicurus a cult-like figure? And,
The first thing we want to do is thank smoothiekiwi for participating in the forum, for reading Norman Dewitt's book, and most of all for raising these excellent and fair questions. We spoke for an hour and a half about these two threads, but I don't want anyone to think that ours is the last word on these subjects. I hope to see more activity in those threads, and I have more to add myself.
On Epicurus' Portrait;
The best resource for this is The Sculpted Word, by Bernard Frischer, who writes extensively on the statues, frescoes and portrait-rings of Epicurus, and how they relate to his philosophy.
On rings;
A few threads on the subject at this forum.
On Cults;
Inscription of Diogenes of Oenoanda, translated by Martin Ferguson Smith
Alexander the Oracle Monger, by Lucian
On the character of Epicurus, by Diogenes Laertius;
It is an open question how reliable Diogenes Laertius is as a biographer of Epicurus. It is widely agreed by scholars that his biography of Epicurus is the best one he wrote, and this does indicate some sympathy or partisanship on the biographers' part. It is an absolutely key surviving text for our school.
On the Pythagoreans;
This website is very spammy with ads, but it does explore the cultlike behavior of the Pythagorean school. If someone finds a better resource, we can replace this one.
A Few Days in Athens, by Frances Wright
This book, written by an extraordinary woman in the nineteenth century and highly praised by Thomas Jefferson, is great "light-reading" on Epicurean philosophy. It is written as a novel, and is perhaps not thoroughly accurate--but it is very engaging.
------------
We had a very pleasant conversation today, and I hope others will enjoy it as well. I once again thank @smoothiekiwi for raising some very important questions!
My grandmother has two birthdays--the day that the government of the United States insists she was born on, and the day that her parents insisted she was born while they were alive!
In contrast to that, the Stoics were right in the centre of the social life, inviting everyone to attend these events.
That's easily done, when one is celebrating virtue and proclaiming their attainment of it; when the civil authorities are on your side; when the prevailing culture has been pre-conditioned to accept what you're saying.
By the time Epicurus had emerged in Athens with his garden, he had already been driven out of Mytilene---a city that was once the crown jewel of Greek thought---and had settled for a time in Lampsacus.
By the time he got to Athens he had learned a few hard truths. There could be no question of teaching in the Gymnasia or the Agora, he had learned that by experience. Athens was a city of philosophers, true enough; but it was the city that condemned Socrates to death.
So he opted for an alternative. He would discourse in the relative privacy of the Garden, not in the city square. But how to reach people outside the garden?
He wrote. He wrote scroll after scroll, laying down thoughts so subversive that even his opponents would circulate them.
Diogenes Laertius calls him the most prolific writer of his age. He was, as DeWitt calls him, a pamphleteer; and three hundred years later men were still burning his books. It would not have been safe for him or for his students, to teach in public.
I must correct myself; Plotina was wife of Trajan, not Hadrian. I do rather admire Hadrian, but he doesn't enter into it!
Edit; wrong again! She was Hadrian's adoptive guardian. I need to stop typing and go find some coffee!
Ironically, I was trying to determine the other day which architectural order would be proper for Epicureans. I settled on Ionic; there is a temple very near to Samos dedicated to Aphrodite done in Ionic capitals, and Ionia was the birthplace of both atomism and Epicurus.
Built within 20 miles of Samos, dedicated to Aphrodite, done in the Ionic style, and completed during the reign of Hadrian, husband of Plotina, patron of Epicureans—rather fits the bill!
Have you looked into the connection with "Apollo Epicurius", that is, Apollo the Helper?
There are several scenes in the HBO series Rome
that deal with this historical question...for whatever that is worth! It plays out over a series of deliberations like the one shown here.
I see that in myself particularly with video games. {...New game -> binge -> tolerance -> increased need -> new variation -> binge...}, and so on. I think 'hijacked' is a fair term.
The pecuniary cost for me is quite small because of the modding community and its infinite variation, but the timesink is considerable.
I don't know if I'll have time for this one, but I think you are absolutely right about its application.
I'm curious whether Dr. Lembke goes into the other 4 major hormones/neurotransmitters of serotonin (mood, sleep, digestion), endorphins (mitigation of stress and pain), cortisol (increase of stress, and activation of "fight or flight" response) and oxytocin (associated with empathy, relationships and sex). Probably I do need to make time for this!
The Good Place has a great arc, if anyone does decide to watch it I'd at least see it through to the end of the first season 
56–57. The wise man feels no more pain when being tortured himself than when his friend tortured, and will die for him; for if he betrays his friend, his whole life will be confounded by distrust and completely upset.
This shows up in the Vatican Sayings on the torture question. To be honest, I barely remember talking about this!
There is also that strange passage in the Hippocratic Oath enjoining its reader not to cut those who "labour beneath the stone". This is generally interpreted as being a kidney stone (which, incidentally, Epicurus suffered from).
Apparently Hippocrates felt that kidney stones were the domain of surgeons, not of the physicians he was instructing. It is possible that Hippocrates really was as high-minded as all of that, but to my juvenile ear upon first hearing or reading those words, the "stone" seemed in context more like a punishment from the gods which it was forbidden to treat. And further, that there was something effeminate in dying of this "labor".
It is indeed curious the emphasis (or sometimes invention) which the biographers have placed upon the death of philosophers--often written as if they had 'gotten their due'.
So it was that Empedocles (who thought he was a god) died by leaping into a volcano; Socrates, the wisest man (in his own estimation), in all of Greece, died by his own hand; Archimedes was slain by a blunt instrument of the Roman soldiery while himself distracted by the higher mathematics; Lucretius was offed after he quaffed, allegedly, a love potion; Zeno the Stoic died of holding his breathe to suppress the pain of a broken toe; Julius Caesar suffered epilepsy and, in spite of controlling the Roman empire could not control even his own body (much less the governing body of the Senate); Protagoras had held that 'man was the measure of all things', but found by experience that he did not measure up against the sea in storm (he died of shipwreck). And on it goes.
Lucretius and Pindar mention the stone, but without explaining it. In both cases they are describing a fate narrowly avoided.
Show Notes:
The House of Atreus;
https://www2.classics.upenn.edu/myth/content/tragedy/media/atreustree.gif
In the third book of Lucretius
Referenced In the 8th Isthmian Ode of Pindar
In the plays of Aeschylus;
Of which the Oresteia contains the following;
The Agamemnon (Text of the play)
[See also The Browning Version]
In Lucretius (he calls her Iphianassa)
And also;
Don's translation and commentary on The Letter to Menoikeus
Nates compilation of The Principle Doctrines
My recording of The Torquatus (with thanks to Cassius)
And finally,
Why we chose the Reid translation
Cassius, let me know if I left anything out!
Happy New Year!
On an evening that asks us to gaze into an uncertain future, the words that come to my mind rise up from an impenetrably deep and distant past. They are the words of Diogenes of Oenoanda, which he inscribed in stone.
But if we assume it to be possible, then truly the life of the gods will pass to men. For everything will be full of justice and mutual love, and there will come to be no need of fortifications or laws and all the things which we contrive on account of one another. As for the necessities derived from agriculture, since we shall have no slaves at that time (for indeed [we ourselves shall plough] and dig and tend [the plants] and [divert] rivers and watch over [the crops), we shall] ... such things as ... not ... time ..., and such activities, [in accordance with what is] needful, will interrupt the continuity of the [shared] study of philosophy; for [the] farming operations [will provide what our] nature wants.
They are words, in part, that make me shake my head and smile; is there a charming naiveté about them? Yes, perhaps. But there is cold, steely prescience as well---the kind of sound cultural critique, a foresight born of wisdom, that would make the quack oracles of Delphi bristle with envy.
There is also, etched in that ancient stone, a strain of hope; a yearning for a better and wiser age---and that not selfishly, but altruistically wished for. His hope was not that he should live to see it, but that you and I, and those who follow, should live to see such an age; and I like to think we've seen a measure of it.
"That things are not so ill with you and me as they might have been, is half owing to the number who lived faithfully a hidden life, and rest in unvisited tombs."
-George Eliot
I was once reading the comments under a YouTube video when I came across one that I thought very clever. I actually laughed out loud, not something I do often, only to discover upon looking at the name that it was my own comment I was laughing at. This is precisely the kind of thing we can and should expect, in view of our two or three pound mammalian brains. 😄
