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Later in life, Diogenes grew tired of the stubborn Athenians and decided to find someplace where his wisdom would be better-heeded; but the ship he was sailing on was set upon by pirates, and he was captured and sold into slavery. The slave-trader asked Diogenes what he was good at. "I govern men. In fact, see that man there," he pointed, "sell me to him. He's looking for a master, rather than a slave." The man's name was Xeniades, and as it turned out, he was indeed looking for a teacher for his children. The children started taking after Diogenes's coarse manner, but even so, Xeniades was fond of him, since his children grew to be of outstanding character. Diogenes must have been satisfied, too, since when some of his disciples learned of his whereabouts and attempted to ransom him, he told them, "I cannot be ransomed, since I am no slave: after all, it is the lot of a slave to be in constant fear, but I have no fear of Xeniades; rather, he is afraid of me!"

Xeniades bragged of Diogenes to his friends, and one of these—a wealthy money-changer—had a slave named Monimus. Monimus was constantly overhearing Xeniades speaking of Diogenes, and became fascinated and determined to learn from the man himself. But this was impossible as a household slave, so he pretended to be insane until his master finally discarded him. Monimus immediately went to study under Diogenes, and in time under Diogenes' pupil, Crates.

One day, the former master saw Monimus following Crates around—both sane, of course, but homeless and living lives of utter simplicity—and he said to himself, "Oh dear, he's even crazier than I thought!"

Lysimachus was having a party and had invited several of his philosopher friends to dine with him, including Theodorus the Atheist, Crates the Cynic, and his wife Hipparchia. Now, Ancient Athens was a patriachal society where women were expected to stay at home and tend their domestic tasks: for Hipparchia to aspire to philosophy was crass, and to accompany her husband on a social outing was scandalous. So Theodorus, not wishing to dine with a woman, criticised her as they sat to dinner, saying, "Shouldn't you be busy at your loom?"

Hipparchia replied, "Do you think I have made a made a poor trade in exchanging my weaving for philosophy?"

Theodorus, himself a philosopher, couldn't reply in the negative, and was embarrassed at being outwitted by a woman. So as to embarrass her, too, he pulled at her cloak, exposing her.

But Hipparchia showed no shame and apparently changed the subject. "Now, now, we're all philosophers here: such pettiness is beneath us. Let us spend our time in something more becoming, like logic. For example, consider this syllogism: the law applies equally to all—what is lawful for one to do is lawful for another to do. So what is lawful for Theodorus to do is lawful for Hipparchia to do. Now, it is certainly lawful for Theodorus to beat Theodorus. Therefore, it must also be lawful for Hipparchia to beat Theodorus." So saying, she socked Theodorus in the mouth.

I needed a good laugh today. I offer this up in case you do, too.