Dionysus was the god of other things, such as wine, madness, Oscar-night after-parties, and certain types of vegetation. But to me, he would always be the annoying little brother who followed me around, trying to get my attention by imitating everything I did. You know the type. You’re a god. Your little brother pesters Dad to make him a god, too, even though being a god is supposed to be your thing. You have a nice chariot pulled by fiery horses. Your little brother insists on getting his own chariot pulled by leopards. You lay waste to the Greek armies at Troy. Your little brother decides to
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