caldrail

Thank you, I will. The strength of castle walls is something that provokes a response in the human psyche and has done right from the start. The need for defence gave rise to simple earthworks and palisades and so on to massive twenty four mile long curtain walls almost impregnable to military assault. That is however missing the point. While a military defeat might not have been suffered by the Byzantines until the fifteenth century, that is a very blinkered view. We do associate castles with medieval conflict. What is noticeable is that assaults, so favoured by Roman legions with a more direct mindset and a tolerance of casualties, was very rare in medieval times. It was often easier to either starve your opponent out or sneak in. There are any number of examples of such practises. It's the result of necessity. If a wall is too tough, you find a door or window to get through. The Byzantines were not invulnerable because Constainople had huge walls. To claim stone battlements around a city kept their empire alive is just ridiculous. In fact, had it not been for the religious fervour and cultural differences of the invaders, the defeat of 1453 might not have been final, irrespective of any military result at Constantinople. The fact that Baibers got in shows that even such defenses were not impossible barriers, but then, the christian crusaders had already done so much earler when they looted the city. The scale of the turkish conquest blinds us to the vulnerability demonstrated in previous centuries.

Winter is here. Okay, that statement might sound a tad obvious, but in Britain it means a good deal more. For the last few decades we've had gentle Autumn temperatures, and apart from strong winds for a few weeks, there's very little winter until after Christmas. This year we've had a sharp plunge in temperatures as cold winds from Europe sweep in from the east. For the last two days, grim warnings of snow have been made, which has pleased the doom-mongering weather people as it gives them a chance to display a different warning triangle. As I popped down to the library early this evening, I noticed a few flakes of smow drifting in the wind. It was all a bit odd seeing as there was hardly any clouds in the sky. I passed a young couple beside the busy town center road junction and the girl stopped her partner and said "Ooooh... Look at that!" Her breathless enthusiasm (yes, I looked, I am such a sheep) was about a dusting of snow piled against the side of the road. Just there. Nowhere else. It did look surreal, like some sort of advertisement for this years forthcoming snowfall. What A Nice Lady I was waiting at the booking screen in the library. This is, unfortunately an occaisonal test of patience, as there's a direct relationship between the number of people queueing to book computers and the time they take to find that special perfect cubicle. Not too suprisingly, it was happening again. This time the hopelessly confused dunce was a damsel in distress. She was actually older than me, a lively vivacious woman who was desperately trying to figure out how to get the selection she wanted. It was just a shame that I'm a complete dunce at speaking serbo-croat. So we spent a fun five minutes repeating ourselves in ever decreasing circles and enjoying it thoroughly. Sniff My noisy neighbour has finally given up and moved out, leaving a bunch of even noisier contractors rebuilding the premises from early morning to well into the evening. Nothing I can do about that I guess, but last night after they'd gone home it was like sniffing glue with the fumes of noxious paint and adhesives seeping through the floorboards. So bad was it that I had to keep the windows open to prevent suffocation, and in the freezing temperatures in the middle of the night, it wasn't funny. That's me under the piles of duvets and warm clothing. Sniff. Job Search Success of the Week It's a repetitive, soulless existence, forever filling out forms and sending optomistic appeals to employers to throw caution to the winds and hire someone like. Imagine my suprise then when an employer phoned me. As luck would have it, as always happens in moments of significant communication, I was up to my neck in bath water and missed the call completely (trust me, hot water is really lovely right now) When I phoned them back it was a private college who said (and I almost quote) that I meet their criteria and don't need to be interviewed. Erm.. Okay... But I still need to turn up and discuss whether I exist and have a criminal record. Why do I get the sinking feeling that I'm this years chosen victim at St Trinians? Rage of the Machine Go for it lads. Killing In The Name Of Real Music. Sorry Simon, but you didn't gatecrash my Christmas bash last year so I don't care if your ordered and monopolised little world is running into competition. Besides, your trousers are pulled higher than mine and that is soooo last year. A Bit More Tagged On The End Oooh, hang on a moment, don't go away... Keep on reading. Swindon just gets better and better. I saw some policemen the other day. Three of them patrolling together. You know you're in trouble when policemen go around in three's. I don't think they'll get into any trouble though, because I also saw a cheeky chap giving them a friendly wave. Sadly though not all criminals are so sociable. After all the hassle and mounting crime they've had to reopen the police stations in town, but only on three days a week, so criminals don't get too frustrated. On the other hand now Swindon's been twinned with Disneyland in Florida (that is not a joke... Oh hang on though...) perhaps we could open a theme park here. Swindonland. I can see it now... Oh. I see they have... Right out the window to my right... Stop Press!!! Today I discovered what was going on with the odd flurry of snow. Looking out the window to my right I see a snow making machine on the roof of IS= bar, just across the road. There it goes, a stream of snowflakes from a what looks like a gun barrel perched precariously on the roof. What on earth is it for? We've got snowfall drifting across Britain already. Kent is knee deep in the stuff (or so the alarmist news reports suggest) already. It's only a matter of time before we get a flurry or two here. So far, all the snow machine has achieved is several bemused pedestrians and a minor road accident.

Why didn't the East atrophy in the same way to where it could no longer support itself? It did, or rather, was in the process of doing so. Human societies evolve, whether a small gang, commercial enterprise, or virtual website, to the greatest empires in history. What happens is that relationships are formed, ritual behaviour to some degree, and things get more and mmore structured, so that they become over complex and bloated. It loses the dynamism it had in the beginning. Now that process of formalisation sometimes takes a long time. Witness though the Constantinople the crusaders discovered - huge, otherworldly, vastly impressive, beyond their imaginings, but a society they found was completely unable to cope with thousands of barbaric sworsdmen turning up on their doorstep, only too willing to shoo them away at the first opportunity, and ultimately, a civilisation that was robbed blind by those men's descendants (who ultimately got robbed blind by a blind doge of Venice, demonstrating above all else that competitive commerce breeds ruthlessly greedy and successful men, and underlines my point in that a wild and wooly commercial sector was the winner, not the semi-chivalrous thugs of europe or the the grandiose civilisation of Byzantium) As for the fortifications of Constantinople - no, they were not responsible for Byzantine success in any way, and whilst fortification represented medieval power in a very solid and overt manner, that power was ultimately political and castles changed hands all too readily, plus the ability of the Crusaders to loot Constantinople proved how little value the walls had. You find that ever since mankind evolved a barrier you couldn't break through, it was the front door that usually let the enemy in. Erm... Okay.... Well when I figure out why nihilsm crept into this I'll happily destroy that argument Please don't try to explain it. I've run out of bandages. Anyhow, if 'we' are already finding stuff we're looking for, all it is a pile of bricks. Tell you what Scylla, why don't you stop making random piles of bricks and instead build something? Write an article. Not a list of events or random personalities - a reasoned constructed case for whatever subject pleases you. Can you? You might find people listen to you a little more. At the moment all you're doing is jabbering away in a foreign language, and as you know, us brits only reply with the same message but louder. How about Nihilism in Modern Revisionist Historical Constructs and Analogies - a subject you seem to have a lot to say about. Can't wait to read it.

You seem to be searching for some elegant and sophisticated answer. Sometimes there just isn't one. I'm not sure what mechanisms you're talking about but you might find it useful to read Polybius and his model of cultural life and death, which is very appropriate and prophetic. That really is the underlying cause, whatever the influences that dragged Rome toward it. The western empire, as a zone of imperial control, had atrophied to the point where it couild no longer support itself. It died of old age, ill health, and more than one stab in the back. You can analyse it all with a microscope if you want, but until you step back and look at the bigger picture, the one Polybius himself underlined, all you do is swim around in a sea of detail and sometimes conflicting information. It's rather like a glass of water. Viewed as such, you see it clearly. Zoom in on the brownian motion and all you see is chaos that has no definitive answer, since one molecule is merely interacting with another.

I think the problem here is that it's too hard to convince you of any evidence at all. You allude to criteria for acceptance but I sense a lot of goal post moving. If you dion't want to accept anyone elses view, fair enough, but at least have the honesty to say that instead of clicking your fingers at people to find more arguments for you to dismiss.

I can remember the find of a large 'city' off the coast of Japan, and there was tha guy who reckoned he'd found a lost city at the bottom of the Mediterranean, although in that last case there's a better possibility since the Med has dried out at least once in prehistory after the Straits of Gibraltar were blocked That said, a salt desert isn't a very good location for a large city. We humans are designed to spot patterns. So we do. Rocks, holes, conspiracies, supernatural entities, vampires, werewolves, missing links, flying saucers, secret government projects, secret governments, or even just secrets - we spot them even when they ain't there and our inbuilt need for religion sometimes latches on to these things that no-one else knows. I'm not discounting the Caribbean find - I haven't any info other than the report, and as archaeology tells us, the absence of evidence isn't evidence of absence - and I've always maintained that there must have been abortive societies older than the ones we generally recognise, such as the possibility of an African culture up to around 45,000 years ago. That doesn't mean they were sophisticated city states we tend to think of, and isn't odd that we always associate early civilisation with some sort of 'golden age' in which the 'ancients' achieved fantastic levels of attainment before they blew it? Surely as we go back, the general level of sophistication must be lower, and the finds of extremely old temples in Turkey based on animal spirit worship demonstrate human intelligence and ambition to create is nothing new, just not quite as capable as the wilder theories tell us. So I'm afraid Stonehenge has nothing to do with Egyptians, space aliens, grids of wierd energies, or Atlantean spacemen who needed a landmark to land on. Just so you know.

It did affect the western half. The Roman state was at that time a single entity, albeit ruled in two halves by different emperors both out of political ambition and expedience. The fortunes of either affected the other to a large degree, and notice that despite the religious and personality differences between the leaders, there was still a modicum of co-operation if offset by personal motives of those involved.

That doesn't sound right to me. The medieval crossbow evolved as a means of coping with better protected troops, and having an advantage of easier aiming, found some favour, though the weapon was not universally popular and the larger ones hopelessly slow and laborious to load. They also worked on a different method. The Roman ballistas used the torsion of ropes or sinews to prvide the power, the crossbow uses a wooden spring. The Byzantines weren't unfamiliar with the crossbow at all. Such weapons had appeared at the end of the Roman period and some of the eastern empires tropps used them, I believe, though I don't have a source on that. It wasn't a question of lagging behind technology. It had more to do with military tactics and fashion. If you don't need a weapon, troops generally discard them whatever their commanders say. On the other hand, necessity is the mother of all invention. The technology of handheld and siege weapons wasn't a smooth progression from Rome to Renaissance - it had lots of rises and falls due to relative organising ability and requirements of the day.

Marcellinus mentions a third of the army making an escape in darkness after hours of fighting. Personally, I think the estimate of 650,00 is a little large. Bear in mind legions of the day were considerably smaller than in the classic era, were very likely under strength in any case, and would have been subject to desertion en route. I do note that Valens had to make more than one rousing speech whilst parked up at Melanthia just to get his unwilling army to go with him. If that number fought at Adrianople, then clearly this underlines the lack of ability of Roman command of the day to successfully handle such large set piece battles, which is incidentially a major contributor to their defeat. The commanders had little or no experience of running such a large army. Of course Sebiastianus was chosen to lead the campaign because he'd demonstraed ability in the first place, and Marcellinus tells us how he stressed small scale actions instead of a massive strike deep into unsecured countryside. Zosimus does actually mention that 'heads were sent to Constantinople every day', which although a very defined point in his otherwise skimpy account, does illustrate the success Sebastianus had with newly raised and motivated troops. Both Zosimus and Marcellinus point at the 'effeminacy' and lack of will in the troops as a whole. Of course it doesn't take a genius to see that Sebastianus was employing a cadre of forces he considered up to the job of whittling down the Goths. His policy clearly worked. Four days before the battle an advance party led ahead of the column at the instigation and personal command of sebastianus slaughtered a group of gothic foragers at the River Maritza, the Goths by that stage being forced to forage in large numbers for fear of ambush. However, I must emphasise that this accounts for a capable minority of Roman troops used in a manner for which they were trained and best suited for. The rest of Valens army had nothing like the same willingness - at least one unit vanished into thin air once the fighting started. But the initial question was whether the losses were minimal. A third of 650,000 surviving? Four hundred thousand casualties or deserters isn't exactly a minor problem. Neither was the loss of credibility of Roman leadership. They never fought another battle on that scale that I'm aware of. Such was the difficulty of raising more troops to protect Roman terrritory that Theodosius later hired Goths on wholesale. Partly that gave them a reason to remain loyal, despite the rambuctuous nature of the Goths, but also it demonstrated an expedience forced upon Theodosius in dealing with threatened borders and manpower problems. The Goths had arrived in Roman territory both as a migration southeastward from their homelands, but also as an escape against the Huns. The walls built by Trajan (not the emperor, but a 4th century general) to protect against the ravages of those horsemen illustrating the preparedness the Romans sought in their defence against them.. With an enemy arriving on the borders capable of mounting fast attacks at long ranges, the matter of having enough troops to defend the borders was not inconsiderable, and a policy that failed, requiring the campaigns of Aetius to deal with the problem.

With my experience in filling in job applications you would expect a certain level of competence. Funny thing is, the encroachment of modern technology such as personal computers has meant that these days I fill in two or three a year (Please don't tell the government - they won't understand what I mean). This last Sunday night however I was forced by a private education college to fill in one of their application forms manually. Okay, let's see if I can remember how to do this. Oh hang on, I need something to write with... Have I got any pens left? Do they still make those? Ahh... Here we go... Filling these things in silence is dull. No, really, it's excessively dull. It's no good, I'm going to have to put the radio on. As chance would have it the radio station was having problems finding hit singles and instead played a load of classic rock. My chance discovery is that filling in application forms while listening to Led Zeppelin not only enables you survive the experience, but also complete the multitude of boxes without making a complete doctors signature of it. My conclusion then is thinking about filling in forms is definitely not recommended. I think that made sense. Filling in Forms Now that I'm ready to go I discover just how anal application forms can be. First question is... Surname. Oh that's an easy one. Rail. The second box asks me if I know my... Forenames. Actually, it so happens I do. Cal D. Next question is... Name I would like to be called by. The temptation is enormous. Sir? Boss? Duke? Emperor of the Known Universe? Sigh. Oh all right I'll be sensible. Why is it employers have no sense of humour? Now we come to the crunch. There's a big page of boxes demanding to know what my previous employment was and explain any gaps in it. Ah. Now there it's a problem because my unemployment doesn't look very good. Salary and Benefits? Yes, several times now. Wow... That's going to impress them... Sliding Doors During the last week I was sat in my favourite seat in the second floor lounge in our local library. It overlooks a major road junction and all the drama and passion of everyday life is played out below me whenever I discover the book I'm reading is even more boring than that. The irony is that the book was interesting. Not only is the book a very well considered analysis of King Arthur and his historical credibility, it also manages to list his family. Cousins, uncles, aunts, they're all in there. At this rate I'll find his phone number in chapter seventeen. I wonder if King Arthur has any vacancies? Most of the Round Table should died of old age by now surely? Just when I got to the really really interesting bits there was a clatter outside, I dropped the book in suprise, and completely lost my place. The side door of a van passing the library opened by accident. Trays of fresh tomato's fell onto the road. The driver knew it had happened. He pulled over, shut the door securely, as he should have in the first place (important safety notice) and drove off, leaving two tons of red groceries lying in the road. Luckily some members of the public were public spirited enough to help council workmen clear up the mess, and if I were honest, one or two simply helped themselves. Now I know what happens to roadkill. The thing is though that side doors on vans are ludicrously dodgy. I know this from personal experience. I used to do a van driving job, delivering and collecting from customers in Maidenhead area. In Windsor there used to be a clothes shop run by the most ferocious French woman alive. She had obviously come to the conclusion that van drivers were a lower form of life and treated them as such, which, if I'm honest, I had something to do with, because I once delivered her parcels (Must deliver before 8:30am or die horribly) at 16:30 that afternoon. I may have got that one wrong. Anyway, the point was that on another occaision when I succeeded in getting there on time and still got mauled within an inch of my life (good grief does this woman have any friends?), I collected some boxes of hers for delivery to some customer who clearly hadn't the guts to enter her shop. On the motorway I overtook a car and it beeped its horn insistently at me. At the time I couldn't see anything wrong and just assumed the other driver was related to a woman in Windsor. No. It turns out my side door was opening, and with only two miles to go before I reached the depot, her parcels fell out of the van and into the ditch. That did not go well. But that isn't the only example m'lud. I now produce exhibit C, the Red Jasper Tour Van. The old Iveco van was our faithful transport between gigs in my glory years as the drummer for Red Jasper. We had a compartment put in next to the side door for the lads and any roadies who fancied helping us tote that box and lift that speaker cab. On one such trip with a willing volunteer, he made the observation that there was a draft coming through the door. I told him not to touch the door or the draught might get worse. The door sometimes fell off entirely. The effect was like telling someone on the verge of a parachute jump that we forgot to pack it. So you see. Sliding side doors on vans are dangerous and must not be used without a government warning, lots of glossy advertisements, several bright yellow warning signs, and a man with a red flag walking sixty yards ahead of the vehicle. Trust me, they know how to make rules like that. Invitation to the Royal Navy Time again to wander down the hill and sample the delights of Turkish cuisine, which if you're into English culture, has nothing to do with confectionary. It's more to do with spicy ammunition for people who like throwing up in the small hours. Thing is, the cheery bloke who cooks those kebabs for me has received a printed card inviting him to a presentation by the Royal Navy. Questions to be asked have been thoughtfully printed on the back of the invite, so if anyone forgot to think of a question, the Navy has thought of it for you. Okay, we had a bit of a laugh over it, but then I noticed the small print at the bottom said photo ID required. It just proves how sophisticated and civilised we've become over the last four centuries. Now you get politely invited by a press gang. RSVP Copenhagen Global Warming Oh no. They're at it again. Demanding money to save the worlds climate. And true to form, Giveaway Gordon has led the field with a whopping

There's nothing absurd at all. You're too rigid in comparison when all I intended was something generic, which is intentional on your part because it it allows you an excuse to criticise. Of course there are differences. What I mean is that the zealots were a pressure group with their own agenda and a hatred of a powerful occupying force whose religious beliefs differ. The parallels on that superficial level are obvious. To take the comparison further is simply a blind alley which I notice you entered with your usual enthusiasm. In any case, the modern world has global issues and infrastructure that didn't exist in Roman times, but whilst we're on the subject, there was plenty of jewish anger in the Mediterranean world of the time and it has been noted that that the Book of Revelation (yes, our very own apocalyptic vision from the bible) was likely no more than a disguised call for violence against Rome, much the same as modern terrorist propaganda. The case for jewish involvement in the Fire of Rome of ad64 is still under consideration. It would be worth realising that since the jews were largely restricted to one part of the empire and that their religious teachings hadn't spread far at that time, there was little reason for the jews to attack beyond their own borders, seeing as the zealots (besides knifing their own politicians and so forth) had domestic issues with occupation and were attempting rebellion to oust the Romans. As for analyzing Josephus, I find that an odd attitude. So what if he was a turncoat? We aren't here to castigate him for his actions, just to reflect on his writings and their historical significance and content, which is something we could apply to any classical source, even the ones you prefer - and the ones you claim to be supremacists. The only reason you're puzzled is that you're finding people don't necessarily share your views. The values you place on classical sources seem very partisan. As far as I'm concerned, they're all of value in determining the course of events. Certainly some are better than others - I wouldn't claim the Historia Augustae to be anything other than the romanticised and entertaining history that it was. That doesn't detract from its value as a source. Lets face it. Human beings have a very nasty psyche. Period.

The mass-suicide of the defenders is usually portrayed as something heroic (it is, understandably, a national icon for Israel), and the Roman legionaries who made that breakthrough into the almost tomb-like fortress were recorded as stunned by what they saw. It's difficult to understand the mindset of those people. They certainly had no wish to surrender to the tender mercies of Roman retribution thuis the act of mass suicide in this case carries with connotations of an honourable end, despite the fact that suicide rendered them ineligible for heaven, a point that doesn't get mentioned. Also, it must be stressed these defenders were zealots. They were, at least in Roman eyes, an ancient equivalent of Al-Queda. Their decision making processes were guided by a self-justification that ordinary people might well struggle to understand. One woman and her children survived the slaughter, hiding in a drain, and she was the one who told the Romans what had transpired. I haven't seen this program - I suspect I'll hate every moment of it - but from what you say it revolves very much on stereotypical characters that have more to do with modern christian interpretation than the ancient 'terrorist' organisation seeking refuge in Herods old fort. Romanocentricity is to be expected. Okay, the author who wrote the original account, Josephus, was a jew. But he had changed sides, gone over to the winning Roman team, and had every reason to please his peers with tales of Romanocentric victory in the Jewish War. That he retains a semblance of objectivity is commendable, but as with any account of the period, you need to realise that it remains a personal account. Then again, the Roman viewpoint will always be paramount. History is written by the victors and in most cases their opponents were illerate and left no lasting record. The Goths are unusual in this regard in that Jordanes wrote their history - even if a little idealised - and thus we have an alternative. It hasn't escaped my attention that the zealots story has not been preserved, other than through Roman writers and thus potentially sanitised, and it might be worth considering how the jews as a whole felt toward those defenders of Masada at the time. I've no doubt they had sympathisers, but Masada was among the last actions of the war. Two legions had already gone home. It was a mopping-up operation, albeit on a larger scale, dealing with the last resistance from the rebels. Heroes or deluded extremists? When you consider the relevant facts it does have some extraordinary parallels to modern politics, and as always, perspective is the key. Since the whole point of making the program was to dramatise the situation, it's hardly suprising that it's portrayed with modern sentiment and a somewhat less than insightful script. Perhaps I might change my mind if I see it for myself one day. Somehow I doubt it.

In my case it wasn't simply that I lost a familiar tool, it was the loss of files that I was relying on which is far more insidious. Computers can be replaced at the end of the day, it's only hardware. The data on them is a fragile collection of thoughts, memories, information, projects, and so forth, and losing that is far more heartbreaking. As it happens I've had a lot of help restoring data I thought was lost for good. I have lost some stuff which is causing me some real headaches, but via an old hard disk I had in the cupboard gathering dust I've replaced some of the older stuff. Never throw away a data store. Ever. You just never know...

What can I say that adequately describes the events since my last entry? Let's see.... This is a tough one... Well, I got chatted up by a tall leggy blonde. No, really I did. She was standing outside a bakery tempting customers to consider her wares. Does this sound a tad obvious? Just another sales pitch in the great market place of life I guess. But we had a nice chat all the same. Lovely Weather We've Been Having What can anyone say about two months of sunshine and showers that resulted in a complete and utter victory for dampness? Firstly we haven't had it as bad as Cumbria. As far as I'm aware, there's been no collapsing bridges in Swindon, and thus we were spared the tragic deaths that resulted from human futility in the face of natural forces. Secondly, I 've gotten very adept at avoiding downpours, but I suspect I've gotten so used to it I'm not as fussy about damp weather as I was. Then again, as depressing as it is, Rainy Old Swindon doesn't get the floods that render thousands homeless and bereft of family and friends. I should apologise to the chap from the British Red Cross who stood in my way as I strode through town and attempted to make me understand what it was they actually do. Of course I drew the conclusion they collect charitable donations, and yes, that was the point of his lesson, so I wasn't wrong. I just hadn't thought any further than that. I do get stopped a lot, especially by those two clowns selling Jesus. If that young man was truthful and those charitable contributions are indeed used to help those people flooded out or whatever disaster that qualifies them for aid, then I can only say I'm sorry for not adding my name to your mailing list. But, as I explained to the young man, it so happens I'm on charitable aid for being unemployed. I don't usually stress that condition, though I did to one sanctimonious young lady from a job agency the other day who considered that the need to earn a living was not a sufficient reason to be offered a job interview. What did she want? Perfect teeth? A halo? Or do I drive the wrong make of car? A part of me wonders whether employers are overly worried about silly details of appearances in the quest to achieve the perfect workforce. They seem to have this idea that talent and ability are highlighted by haircuts and brown tongues. I suspect to a greater or lesser degree that was always true, it's just that getting a job now has less probability than winning the National Lottery, and played out pretty much the same way. The difference between me and a homeless person in floodland is that I have to ask for the assistance the government offer to unemployed people and regularly prove that I deserve it. i doubt the British Red Cross would regard me as a worthy recipient! Whilst the point is to save government spending and rout out those who claim illegally, the constant ennui, failure, and virtual begging do nothing for the self esteem. A part of me wonders if that isn't all a little counter productive if I have to impress an employer to get off the dole queue. Neither does turning up for an interview soaking wet. Mexican Takeaway For weeks we'd had nothing but windy and wet weather. Funny thing was that it meant the average temperature was well above normal for October/November. Then there was a break in the endless assault of rainy days and the temperature plunged. It was that evening I found myself with a few quid in my pocket. What shall I do? Get drunk? No, that's too unemployed wino... Definitely don't want to go down that road. I know, I'll invest in a mexican takeaway. There's a shop that does that stuff down at the Brunel Centre, only a five minute stroll from where I live. In the course of ordering and paying for my meal I met a young woman, a dark haired girl of affable nature, sat on a bench wrapped up in winter clothing in the square outside. A bit odd. Girls of her age are normally very sociable and found giggling in packs of several. I made a joke about it being too cold to sit there phoning her friends. Usually that sort of gag receives a polite chuckle and a look of horror that this old geezer is trying to chat her up. On that particular night though this particular girl was more open to my obtuse humour. So we got chatting. Turns out she was wrapped up warm because she expected to wait all night if necessary to earn her pay. Eileen, please, you're a lovely intelligent girl. Get a proper job before it all goes sour. Clowns And Perfect Lives Just lately we've had a number of clowns in the town centre. One bunch stood on stilts in victorianesque costumes and played as a band. Truly bizarre, but still entertaining despite the surreal 'Blue Meanie' moment. As for the two clowns handing out printed cards to passers by, I take issue with the comment one made when I told him to go away and stop bothering me, as they have regularly. As I stomped off feeling very unimpressed with Jesus's sales department, he called at my back, holding a card in the air, telling me I will need that phone number one day. Maybe it's just me, but I really do suspect the phone number won't matter one jot. Sympathy For The Fallen A few years ago I was driving baclk from the countryside and I chose a back road down the valley from Chiseldon. It's a quiet road through a private wooded estate that has a wonderfully unspoilt feel. Perhaps, ironically, that's more to do with careful stewardship and watchful gamekeepers. As I approached the single lane bridge over the motorway, an intrusion of the modern world that's hidden from view below the line of foliage, a rabbit decided to cross the road right there in front of me. Animals do this occaisionally. They choose the worst moment all too often, and indeed, this daring bunny ran for all it was worth in the face of my oncoming vehicle. I'm not heartless. I tried to avoid the rabbit. It made no difference. The unlucky mammal went under a front wheel and whether it was crushed or not, I heard it banging around in the wheel well. You can say what you like about sympathy for the soft and cuddly, but I could hear what that animal suffered. I wasn't proud of it. A couple of weeks ago I saw a news item on the net. A sixteen year old girl was waving goodbye to her friends at a railway station. As the train pulled away she ran alongside, tapping on the window for a final acknowledgement, and in attempting to run in high heels, fell over. She slipped between the platform and the moving train. I could hear that rabbit in my head all over again. Sympathy For The Falling This year I found Remembrance Sunday a somewhat less than humbling experience. There's been a change in the way we regard our military in the last few years, with sympathetic documentaries, political speeches, pop albums, brass bands, and indeed, an attitude impressed upon us that our servicemen should be regarded in a certain light, a somewhat idealised and gentlemanly heroism. Foreign wars have been very much in the news for some time. The reports of men shot or blown apart in a dusty region of Somewhere Else have regularly scrolled across the bottom of the tv news. I'm not blind to the grim finality that warfare entails or the political reality that sometimes requires it. But the stories of equipment shortages and shortcomings have always been a part of warfare and whatever the politicians tell us, always will. These obstacles will be overcome, as they must always be to secure victory. Neither is it the politics of our foreign wars that bothers me especially. Perhaps in the various decisions made to send the lads there is something worthwhile, a point to it all, something more relevant than political slogans and careers that stand to ain from success in the field. Certainly without the moral purpose we would have a morale problem. People do squabble occaisionally. Given human nature it's impossible to do otherwise. I can't help thinking that it might be worth fighting over something better than thousands of square miles of mud brick walls and dry ditches, but then perhaps the democratic solution we seek at the barrel of a gun is more important than the venue for its birth. What I find most intrusive about it all though isn't the affiliation with martial virtue or the patriotic sentiment that underpins it. It's the sale of an attitude for which I will be castigated if I decide not to buy it. I have every respect for our armed services and always had done. That I was turned down for service twice doesn't affect those sentiments. Not everyone is born to be a soldier however much our society values such endeavour. Perhaps our willingness to devalue less aggressive paths is formed by the ability of some to profit from selfishness? The label of 'hero' is very quickly used these days, especially for politicans seeking to gain votes in television interviews. The constant pressure by the media to regard all servicemen as heroes for no more than signing up for a few years is starting to bother me. As risky as it is, the armed services don't actually have a monopoly on heroism. I was always taught that a 'hero' is someone who risks their life for someone elses. As it happens I know one or two people who risked their own life, health, or safety in emergency situations. They've never sought medals, television interviews, or praise from politicians for what they did, and I find that most of the people who act selflessly on another persons behalf remain selfless about their achievement afterward. Society though needs its heroes. We need examples of those we consider courageous. I'm sure there are plenty of servicemen in the field who fall into that category and I recall mentions of personal bravery that reached the autocues out of the many unsung stories that deserved that attention. On the other hand, I'm also aware that not all servicemen are quite as angelic as some would have us believe. Hopefully, disgraces to the uniform are a rareity though I confess I have bumped into one or two in my time. Those who have acted beyond the demands of their calling at risk of their lives may certainly receive the title of 'Hero' from me. Those who suffer for that service may certainly receive my sympathy and good will. Those who speak for them without personal profit or reward may receive my attention. The rest of you, as you were. Now You See It... When our main library was back at the temporary site under that new apartment block they built in the town centre, I wandered along the racks of the reference sections and found a wonderful title written before the second world war that described Saxon settlement in Wessex in loving detail. Some of those old books are incredible. They really are. A couple of weeks ago I was reading an article about stone age culture written in 1869. You might think it would lack a certain insight, given the typical learned academic of the time, but I was suprised by the parallels the man drew with cultures of his time, and in particular, he emphasised the influence of enviroment and demographics in surviving a wilderness by the simple expedient of describing the Shoshonee Indians of North America, forced out of their bountiful happy hunting grounds and reduced to a wretched condition subsisting on whatever they could dig out of the ground. The villains were of course their enemies the Blackfoot tribe, who had a slight advantage by virtue of buying guns from the Hudson Bay Company. Contemporary regard in a land thousands of miles away for a disappearing world, one hundred and forty years ago. Now of course I want to find that volume on Saxons again, and despite the patient searches by librarians whose sense of duty (dare I say it) borders on the heroic, the desired book seems to have vanished off the face of the planet. So here's some contemporary concern for a disappearing book, three weeks ago. On The Bright Side I do feel I have to reward anyone who's read this blog entry right to the end. It seems a sad reflection on things that most of the content was a little depressing. So, on the bright side, I've finished with the frustrating phone calls, expensive solcitors, avaricious vendors, and fussy consumer protection groups. I have a working computer again. Ain't life wonderful? I knew you'd be pleased. Especially since the police gave the guy who had sold me the computer originally a right ticking off for parking offences outside my home. Just when you thought there wasn't any justice.

Plato's inspiration was the stories told to him by Solon, who in turn had learned the tale from Egyptian priests, suggesting a very old tradition but no precise origin. The Mediterranean is in any case prone to disasters. The northward movement of the African plate has resulted in the Straits of Gibraltar (Pillars of Hercules, sorry...) closing at least once and as many as ten times, which would have caused the sea to evaporate (it really does - only the connection with the Atlantic keeps the basin flooded) and flood again when the dam was breached. The coastline is flexing under pressure thus archaeological remains show sign of inundation at high levels and some areas are still 'pushed down', like Alexandria. Of course, all this friction causes volcano's and we all know about those

Scientific by any measure? Not really. Some were good observers, others good commentators, but hardly scientific. Tell you what... I'll be generous. Let's include Galen as a 'scientific' person. Okay, that's one individual, out of how many Roman citizens over the generations? Practical issues are by their nature unscientific. The various trades you listed were more concerned with application of experience and observation than logic, theory, and reasoning. Military matters for instance were very much part of Roman culture but even then it was long experience swayed by fashion and barbarian influence, not some carefully thought out equipment schedule. The 'advances' made in military methodology reflected the adoption of trends observed by individuals with an intelligent but empirical grasp of what they believed would benefit Roman victory on the battlefield. I seriously doubt they pored over sheets of parchment over a hot quill trying to figure out what increment of technology would win victory over savages. They were of course more likely to believe, with some justification, that war was won by valour and the strength of a sword arm. Engineering mastery that was employed in civil engineering wasn't theoretical either. It was no more than extrapolation of existing expertise held by those who had the benefit of learning much of it from someone else. I've done the same thing. I designed a bridge in my college days. I came second in the weight trials. No-one taught me about the 'science' of bridge building, I'd simply used what I'd seen in other real world efforts and made an empirical stab at it. I strongly suspect much the same was happening in Roman times.

Some Romans were refined and civilised, at least in some respects, but they were a pretty hard nosed and avaricious lot who came to believe they had a predestined right to dominate. I think the cultural achievements of the Romans blind us to the conquest state that they became. It's also worth pointing out that those cultural achievements, roads, acqueducts, all the usual benefits of Roman society, were primarily intended for the adminstration and policing of the state, the development of wealth for the few, and it had little dto do with the comman man who was bought off with circuses et panem. The level of snobbery in Roman society (and Tacitus gives away some pretty clear examples of it) mitigates against refinement. What we have in other words is a pecking order in which status is defined not just wealth and influence, but by fine details of behaviour. Does that make refinement a good thing? Not in my book if it's used to judge a man less than his peers. We also need to see the Romans as a competitive society, one in which failure is regarded poorly, and a society that has little time for those who fall by the wayside. Hardly a progressive culture then. They of course thought it perfectly natural that the strongest dominate and profit. As regards 'scientific', I can't really see much evidence for that at all. The Romans did not, as a rule, sponsor science despite the civil engineering marvels we associate with them (which incidentially were built according to the need for aggrandisement as much as utility). They were a very superstitious people. For them, science was something that emulated the works of the gods and was perhaps tempting fate.... Unless it made them wealthy in which case avarice overcame their religious biundaries more often than not. Pure science, the expansion of knlowledge for its own sake, didn't really occur to them. The outside world was a curiosity and a potential possession, not a place to be understood and studied. In any case, science was essentially 'greek' in character and whilst very amusing and clever, remained something a typical sponsor wasn't likely to invest in, given the risk of embarrasement compared to the political reward of civil benificence. The whole point about civilisation is one I seee regularly regarding Romans. It's largely image. They were of course a very organised state and one that had developed a huge capacity for control over its neighbours by the application of guile and threat of brute force, but as to whether we consider the Romans 'civilised' is largely a matter of opinion since elements of their society were hardly civilised at all. This also brings up the point of imperial culture. The image of Roman society is one of 'romanisation', a phrase I've come to dislike intensely. It never really happened. Rome was a conqueror, an occupier, and the various peoples they annexed and defeated carried on life in their midst as they always had done. Certainly some people in the provinces adopted Roman ways (Tacitus again reveals what 'refined' Romans thought of that!) in order to improve their circumstances, and yes, the Romans were keen to encourage that, but the idea was not beneificence or some enlightened attitude toward the civilisation. They saw it as a means of control, of tempting the natives with luxuries and decadence and bringing them into a sphere of local government by means of bribery and political subterfuge. It worked. It was the basis of provincial government that went on all over the empire, and in the case of Dark Age Britain, even survived them. Ultimately I have to leave the question of whether the Romans were civilised to each of you to decide for yourselves. If you point at literature, art, civil engineering, organisation, then perhaps you're right. If on the other hand you see the arrogance, brutishness, greed, and downright callousness that existed as what they regarded as positive sides to their culture, then perhaps you'll think differently. What is certain is that we cannot in any degree regard the Romans as 'scientific'. Why would they need to be? They had plenty of conquered experts to do all the clever stuff for them.

I wouldn't dismiss the endurance of folklore entirely. For example, our Good King Arthur. Modern versions of the story might be hopelessly wide of the dark age reality, but even in our own contemporary medievalised fantasies there are still elements of Iron Age mythos and heroic fiction enshrined within it.

He has my complete permission to do so.

There are times, Scylla, when I struggle to decide whether you're pulling my leg. All you ever see are events. You list them, avidly, any chance you get, because your basis of self-worth is all those minute facts you've memorised. Do you ever try to understand underlying cause? Motivations? No, of course not. That requires imagination as much as the printed word. I'm sorry, but I see no anachronism in human nature, something we share with every culture that has ever existed and ever will, whatever social rules and mindset exists. But it's pointless discussing it. You don't want a discussion. You want to tell everyone what you know. I think you've done that already.

That's it. Game over. I've lost all my data. Everything. Eight years work, lost in a moment of electrical fireworks. It's official too. The data recovery people left me with backups of broken fragments and random folders full of files I've never seen before. If this was merely an accident, a chance occurence, fate, or simply bad luck, well, what can one do? If this was a deliberate act by someone somehow, then what was it for? What did they achieve? You can't create something positive by destruction. And I 'd have to say you've broken a number of laws along the way, so I hope you get caught one day. There'll be no mercy from me. If this was an act of God, then all I can say is that he has a sick sense of humour and I'm better off without him. He also might like to help any Jesus Creeps that call at my door after this. They'll need it. Right now I'm no mood to talk to anyone. The prospect of this happening was very much in mind for some time, but the death of hope changes everything. In a sense I've been made a prisoner of circumstance. A certain Rudyard Kipling poem is on my mind at the moment - I would be a hypocrite if I dismissed that - but now I face the prospect of rebuilding nearly a lost decade. Time for me to walk into the wilderness, to spiritually knock on the door of a fort in Siddi-Bel-Abbes. Truth is, I'm not going to be left any choice.

I don't think we should be suprised that some individuals have leanings toward humanitarian sympathies. Human beings haven't changed much since we discovered Europe for ourselves and on average, a certain number will always identify with those people (or animals) that they see suffering. What we find in primitive peoples is that they learn to fit in with their enviroment. Early exploration peoples can be very wasteful in their new territory. It's new, fresh, and game is bountiful. Once the creatures become harder to find, so the need to be more thoughtful toward their enviroment evolves and spiritual practises along with them. The native Americans are very much a case in point. Whilst we admire their ability to utilise their enviroment and waste very little of the animals they hunted, we also know they severely inhibited post-ice-age herds (if not responsible for their demise) and that herds were sometimes stampeded over cliffs for easy kills, a method hunting that was extremely wasteful and one that would inevitably be replaced with more careful exploitation. The Romans never reached that stage. They had little cultural reason to. With their somewhat arrogant self-belief and greed the world around them was there to be exploited. There is of course the increasing cost of importing animals from abroad that finally made the large scale slaughter of animals in the wild less desirable, but this was an economic factor entirely and one that hadn't, even by the end of the empire, introduced any conservational sentiment in the Roman mindset, which itself was increasingly concerned with external pressure and internal politics as Rome developed toward the monarchy of the later era. The laws on slaves over the years underline those trends. As the numbers brought in from warfare lessened and the individual slave became more valuable, so the owners often found themselves with a less overbearing relationship with them. Of course you could argue the Romans had other reasons to pursue slave rights. These were effectively disenfranchised labourers living amongst them and at least once a Roman writer observed the delicate balance between obedience and rebellion in their midst. I'm not sure that simply putting Themistius into a category of philosophical ideology is entirely relevant. Whilst he may have had similar leanings to others who included themselves in such a cultural grouping (if indeed they thought themselves a seperate social order at all in those days) we don't see Themistius connecting his views in the quote given above with Presocratics or Aristotleans. When he mentions "We worry" it's far more likely he includes his associates which aren't necessarily to be exclusively of a certain philosophical bent. Having said that, it's also clear that the issue was at least discussed amongst his peers at least once, probably more. Had there been new lands, more territory to conquer and exploit, I suspect the conversations would have amounted to a few shrugs and comments on what new resources could be brought into the Roman fold. With the inwardly looking perspective of the late empire, Rome was effectively held back from it's former stance on reaching out for more. There's little time for enviromental concerns if the enemy is threatening to trample all over it. Incidentially, this raises another issue. The over-hunting by barbarians in surrounding lands, not just to obtain trade with the Romans, but also to ensure safe agricultural land for themselves. It seems then whatever we humans consider about our duty toward the enviroment, it will always be offset by the short term for wealth and security.

A recent news item was typical of the changing times and regrettable hardships of the current economical situation. The last traditional piano manufacturer has closed it's doors and will now have all it's instruments built in south east Asia. Saddening news. In a television interview a staff member lamented the passing of this era, and pointed out that in his fathers day, there were maybe two to three hundred manufacturers of fine wooden pianos in Britain. That's an astonishing number. When you consider this last firm has produced something like three hundred and fifty thousand pianos since the workshop opened its doors in 1911, it makes you wonder how many pianos have been made in Britain over the years. Well I can't be exact, but if we assume some averages, bring up Windows Calculator, feed in the figures... Et voila! Sixty seven million. No really, it might be a quick and dirty estimate, but it looks as if Britain has built one piano for every modern day citizen since 1900. So where's mine? Come to think of it, what happened to the rest of them? Are they being smashed to bits by frustrated music students? Or have they all gone to piano heaven? Or, perhaps more frighteningly, is this the work of evil piano rustlers, herding all free-born pianos into harsh confinement within recording studios and forced to create evil commercialised hit tunes? Birdwatcher On The Prowl A few days ago I was running out into the countryside along an old farm track I sometimes use to cross the M4 motorway. Ahead of me was a guy carrying what looked like a video camera on a tripod. Out of curiosity, I asked him what he was up to out here. He told me it was a telescope, which allows him to take close up shots of birds (the feathered variety). Quite a knowledgeable chap too. having retired from long service in the RAF, he now takes photographs and educates complete ignoramuses like. I learned more about birds from that bloke in a ten minute chat that I'd learned in ten years. Now what was it he said?... Ahhh... Crows have long beaks?... Or was it Rooks?.... Suspicious Person of the Week The rain was pouring down like nothing else. I'd opened the back window and looked out at the shallow waves of water running across the yard and forming a new stream bed on the gravel alleyway. That's the only way to enjoy a rainy day. Watch it from the shelter of a warm, dry home. Further away, in the more overgrown section of alleyway next to the old college site, a young man trod along the gravel looking absolutely drenched. Ordinarily I wouldn't have thought too much about that but I noticed him linger beside the wooden fence. What's he up to? You do get strange goings on in that alleyway. The lad looked around to see if anyone was looking, and not noticing me observing his actions, he scaled the wooden fence and slipped into the abandoned college grounds. Call me suspicious, but I doubt he's a student there.

According to Jeremy Clarkson, the demise of the supercar is nigh. His romantic goodbye to petrol-guzzlers on Top Gear nearly had me bursting into tears. What is life, without passion? Let's face it, those ultra-eco-safe hybrid cars are about as passionate as yesterdays warmed up breakfast. There's something horribly socialist about the modern world. It's even showing signs of communist mediocrity and conformance. The world want drivers to be slow, safe, and silent. On the one hand, I have to agree. The law says we must obey speed limits. Of course there will always be those who believe they can drive better than everybody else and that laws don't apply to them, but sometimes you have to wonder if speed limits are designed to make hybrid cars seem like a good idea after all. If all that wasn't bad enough, now the banks have made a complete mess of the worlds economies, along with a daft politician or two, and it seems fewer of us will able to sample the delights (and frustrations) of cars designed to thrill. Yet despite this, manufacturers are turning out more and more supercars. There are new models appearing every week. Most of them are the wild excesses of their designers imaginations and you'd have to be fairly imaginative to figure how to use them on an everyday basis. The more extreme are really just playthings, toys, fun little cars for the race track and the wealthy enthusiast who doesn't know enough about cars to buy something better. Deep down, I want a supercar. Not those silly track day monsters, but real genuine sports cars. I just love the drama these vehicles generate simply by burbling past. As for the bad tempered scorn of the poverty stricken public driven to rage by such displays of extravagance, that unfortunately goes with it. But then, my cheap and nasty bad boy Eunos Cabriolet isn't exactly supercar stuff, but that got vandalised after two months of happy exuberance. It's a rusting wreck at the back of my home. And still, I sometimes get woken by irate kids planning to drive it after the night clubs close. One shouted in the early hours to tell me exactly what he thought of me for preventing his enjoyment of my purchase. Sorry, but it isn't yours and you shouldn't have vandalised it in the first place. Now Lexus has joined the ranks of supercar makers. Surely they aren't serious? It seems they are. For a cool

He does imply that isn't the case.. "We worry about..." Who exactly 'we' are is another matter. Given he was an educated man and someone who gave it some thought, it wouldn't be stretching the imagination to think of him as one of the less avaricious members of Roman society. What skews this is he writes during a later period of Roman history, where the humanitarian sympathies of the ruling classes are increasing (underlined by the improving situation of slaves, possibly also by the adoption of christian beliefs, but in the latter case I don't know enough about how early christians viewed animals, and this was Rome after all). To offset that, he makes thos quote whilst comparing barbarians with animals, remarking it was good that a barbarian tribe wasn't exterminated forever. It reveals less of an enviromentalist (as we more or less agree) and rather more of a typical patronial air of superiority. The fundamental ideology of the Romans from their early days was that the gods had given them a divine purpose to rise and dominate - An empire without end - and it seems this mindset was prevalent even in the late empire, which itself raises an interesting point about christianity - that it must have been coloured by Roman thinking. Okay, I have no idea what religion Themistius worshipped (does anyone else have that info?) but actually I think that question is largely irrelevant, because ultimately Themistius, for all his apparent concern, only frets about the diminishing numbers of animals in the wild. Notice that he does not curse his forefathers for their wanton slaughter. Neither does he suggest that steps must be taken to preserve wildlife, nor praise anyone else for doing so. The whole quote comments merely that a barbarian tribe is spared slaughter, almost if they were a curiosity, a colourful accessory in the world around them. It raises the question then of how the Romans saw the natural world. To some extent, it was a strange and frightening place. Rivers weren't just watercourses. They were places that were either the bounty of a gods benificence, or worse, a place forbidden by the gods unless correct observances were met. The legions that Claudius roused to invade Britain in 43 weren't keen to board the ships at all. The Channel was viewed as a stormy, dangerous barrier, a place the gods would placating over if they were to reach the shores of the mysterious island, and that was even after Julius Caesar had visited the place twice a century before, and despite the regular mercantile and political contact between Britain and the continent that had been going on even before that. Animals were of course simply beasts. Manifestations of of the natural world. If nothing else, the Romans were consumers and the exploitation of a world the gods had given them a right to dominate would seem perfectly in order to them. Beasts were therefore a resource no different to valuable minerals, as both could be sold at a profit. This does seperate the natural world from agriculture. In farming, there is a desire to conserve and ensure the farm animals flourish, but that in itself is only to serve human needs. On the face of it then, Themistius is indeed something of a rarity in Roman circles, a man who voices concern about animals, however lacking in real sympathy it may have been. I suspect though, and this is possibly in the thoughts of Themistius as he wrote about his concerns, that the dwindling stocks of animals in the wild was making itself felt in a very subtle way. Certainly it would have affected their wallet. Increasing numbers of beasts for the arena would have required importation and lengthy transportation, making the use of the creatures much more expensive. So we see both finance and practicality as two reasons for the decline in animal slaughter toward the late empire. The decline of pagan practises must also have contributed. But lurking beneath the obvious was an uncertainty about the world. Because the Romans felt this divine purpose about infinite empire, it would seem in the order of things that the gods were providing the world for the Romans to exploit, something we know they did readily. With a declining resource in the increasing rarity of wild beasts, are the Romans somehow not keeping faith with their gods? The point I getting to then is that Themistius has a better overview of the world, by his education and position in society. He has witnessed the ebb and flow of current life and knows about the history of his realm. He sees the changes occuring around him and has begun, deep down, to question his Roman prerogative? Only with guilt would Themistius have made an intellectual change of heart and assumed the mantle of enviromentalist. That is the essential point then. For all his worries about barbarians and the natural world, he voices no guilt. Themistius is therefore indeed as Roman as his contemporaries.