It's articles like this one -- from Venezuela's Daily Journal -- that makes me wish I had a Latin equivalent for WTF?:

Warning: This article deals with Julius Caesar. Any similarity with national situations is the sole responsibility of whomsoever establishes the relationship. It contains expressions of a sexual type “Oooh” and violence type “Ah.”

It has always been said that Caesar was murdered by Brutus. It is curious, Brutus was the son of Servilia, the great leader’s most famous lover. They say that although he was not his son, Caesar loved him as such. This gives us a historical first lesson: One cannot go through life surrounded by brutes and servants.
The return of Caesar to Rome had generated big expectations in the Populace that expected from its leader the allotment of lands and revolutionary politics. This, in practice, didn’t happen. The Senate went on to progressively grant Caesar more and more powers. In the year 44, he was named dictator for life.
With it, he was able to concentrate much power in his hands, which bothered his enemies and bothered his own partisans who, their demands not being satisfied, even dared to claim him/her openly saying him/her: “Caesar, amiucus populule cum tigus est, Ave ave, Caesar domus non habemus, Sic, sic, sic goverum est” and things of that nature.
As a military man, the future dictator had disobeyed the orders of the Senate and had crossed the Rubicón river with his troops, that is to say, he overstepped his bounds. That is where he said his famous words: Jalea jacta est. Surprisingly the Senate, instead of censoring him for such an action, ended up naming him “dictator for life.” History surprises you. Surprises give you history; oh dear.
They say that when Caesar went to the Senate, the day of his murder, someone called Artemidoro tried giving him a letter which warned him of many things, and that the soldier didn’t read it because he had quit the custom of reading messages from the people. Second historical lesson: Always stop and listen to your people. Kavafis, the great Greek poet, writes a beautiful poem about that moment:
“My soul, avoid pomp and glory.
And if you cannot stop your ambitions, at least follow them with caution, warily.
And the higher you go the more perceptive and careful you must be.
And when you finally arrive at your pinnacle, Caesar – when you assume the role of someone very famous – then be even more careful when you go down the street.
A remarkable man of being able to with your retinue; and if a certain Artemidoro comes to you from among the crowds, bringing a letter, and saying hastily: “Read this at once. There are important things in here that concern you”, make sure to stop; make sure to postpone all conversation or business; make sure to get rid of all those that greet you and revere (you can see to that later); you can even keep the Senate waiting and find out immediately how important the message is that Artemidoro has for you.”

... so many errors, so little time.