There's this documentary that has been bouncing around in my brain for the past two days. I haven't sent it back yet and I will try to watch it again this evening. It's the story of a man named Crowhurst and the 1968 round-the-world yacht race. And it's a tragedy, in the literary sense, except that we have antihero for hero. It's a sobering, somewhat terrifying, look at a man trapped between death and ruin.