As water poured in through the hull’s fractured planks, the Sea taunted the ship, “see how easily I have dashed your sides upon my rocky shoals! Thou art no longer the mighty Ship of Theseus. Thou art nothing; less than a putrid fishing skiff, and many years hence when young men ask whatever happened to that courageous boat, the teacher will respond, “it was bested by the master of all who sail, the Sea.”

With this the ship despaired, and resigned itself to fate…until a curious thought entered its mind. If I am nothing but crippled dinghy, why should the Sea take such pleasure in my sinking? The ship repaired its course and thought hard on this admission against interest. If the Sea should take such trouble in its destruction, and vaunt himself that he had bested the indomitable Ship of Theseus, then I must still be, in some sense the mighty Ship of Theseus. The ship retorted to the turbulent waters “I am still yet what I was created to be, and I shall sail for some redeeming shore, or die trying.”

If you feel the Devil bear down on you, it is only because you still have something worth fighting for.

-thus James, in his comment of the week. Worthy of Lord Dunsany.

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