caldrail

The Fabian Strategy was ineffective. If the idea was to avoid a confrontation and casualties, that achieved nothing. If the idea was to 'starve' Hannibals army as a force far from home and without direct support, that failed too. Hannibals campaign lasted eighteen years in which Rome's defense was trashed - only a poor strategic decision by Hannibal prevented utter Roman defeat - and reinforcements were on the way. Hannibal wasn't neutralised - he lost the initiative, and that was not a Roman device.

Funny how little things can seem so important. There is of course that quaint Chaos Theory that suggests a butterfly in motion could upset a balance that leads to a storm elsewhere. At first glance, it seems a ridiculous notion, because the laws of physics clearly indicate that a butterfly would have a hard time creating a massive cyclonic movement of air that flattens most of the Eastern US seaboard. But then again, little things matter. There was that time I thought I was losing fuel in flight, when in fact it was merely a failure of Cessna's notoriously inaccurate fuel gauges. A minor failure that caused some concern at the time. Or the bolt in my little Nissan Cherry hatchback, the one the mechanic had failed to tighten after a service that left me stranded in the countryside at night. These are of course inconsequential problems despite the inconvenience they caused. Then we have to think again when we consider the tragic results of minor failures on Space Shuttle flights. One exploded on take off, another burned up on re-entry, both from stupidly tiny and insignificant failures. The trouble is that such disasters are politically embarrasing as well as tragic, and I see that the Space Shuttle fleet is to be retired in 2011, leaving NASA with commercial rockets to send their payloads into orbit. It seems a little sad. The Space Shuttle was supposed to be a step forward, the proof of concept of re-usable spacecraft, and one that proved without doubt that space is even more unforgiving that ordinary flight. We are of course at an early stage of space exploration. For us, the easy and mundane interstellar travel of popular genres like Star Trek are beyond us for now, if possible at all. A part of me hopes that NASA will recover its nerve (and funding) and make a better attempt at everyday spaceflight in the future. One wonders what the insurance bill of Virgins projected orbital flights will be, especially after the inevitable tiny failure occurs. Failure of the Week Of all things, a tiny signal splitter in my recording gear has disintergrated. It just fell apart, and I had to disassemble my guitar to free bits of it. Not the end of the world, certainly, but an annoying failure which now sends me on a quest across Swindon to find another. The local music store doesn't have one, nor does the video equipment shop outside the library, so I must gird my loins and head toward the business parks and the large premises of major retailers, to do battle with ignorant and insignificant shop assistants.

Testosterone? I wasn't aware that had anything to do with romanticism. Yes, romanticised. The image of Roman invincibility is simply that. An image. It's rather like those youngsters with glazed eyes every time you mention special forces, seeing muscled heroes with and supernatural invulnerability. Have you ever met a real special forces guy? They seem pretty ordinary people when they pass you in the street, with variations of character and capability like anyone else, albeit probably a tad better at soldiering than most. The Republican Roman legions were militia (at least until 107BC buts outside the scope of this thread) which makes them ordinary people, not highly skilled military geniuses. To regard them as the best in the world and use that as the reason for Romes expansion is a bit simplistic and naive. It's like saying the SAS won Desert Storm. Of course they didn't, despite their useful (and romanticised) contribution. Regular troops, of varying quality, and a co-operative incisive strategy from the commanders, not to mention politics in the background prevailed. The Romans of the Pre-Marian era didn't need to be brilliant. I do take on board the quote you gave above, which is interesting but not indicative of a consistent level of skill. An impressive performance at one event does not equate to the standard of the time, and one has to wary because history is written by the victor and Romans were no strangers to exaggeration or glorification of their military achievements. So much is dependent on the quality of leadership. Otherwise poor troops can be galvanised and well-motivated in the presence of a more capable leader (as in the case of Spartacus), or experienced troops left confused and disorganised (as say during the Varian Disaster of a later time) by inept leadership. After all, without Scipio and his insightful command would Rome have prevailed in the 2nd Punic War? The indications are that they were close to surrendering, or at least dithering to the point that such rumours were abroad. The reason is partly this romance of the Roman legion as a mighty force, which as I've mentioned is persistent and very attractive to the human psyche - we like associating with strong tribes by instinct - but also the association of the Roman legion with modern military practises. This is definitely wrong. Okay, they did some things that parallel our modern regimes and indeed it sometimes looks hauntingly familiar, but it's a mistake to assume that the regimes were identical in all but name and equipmment. Further, there is a tendency to foist the high degree of professionalism in the legions of the post-civil war era on the militia of the earlier time. There is little basis for this, since each levy was essentially created from scratch from the available volunteers and there was no standard of training at that time, which was ironically one of the lessons of the Punic Wars that eventually gave birth to the Reforms of Marius.

Evidence? Snapping your fingers and telling everyone to go and read polybius book six isn't really presenting any - it's also rather arrogant to assume that everyone else will see the prose in the same light as yourself. As regards conquering the known world - that wasn't done by military might alone and neither was it done as a blitzkrieg campaign. It was a series of diplomatic moves and little wars (and a few larger conflicts it must be said), and in particular, the defeat of it's largest rival opened the way. Balance of power is an important quality in politics - I would have thought the last century had made that clear. There's plenty of factors involved in their success - but excellence alone? Thats a misconception, albeit a popular and romantic one. They were a society that believed in itself and as history shows, that counts for a great deal.

Dogs are known as Mans Best Friend. I certainly do know what they mean. The companionship of a canine pet is astonishing. Such is the pack instinct of a dog that they assume the role of family member more often or not. But is a dog 'Womans Best Friend'? Yesterday I waited at a main road before popping down to the music store to collect my guitar. Across the road from me a woman waited with her pet, a white and brown dog of some strange breed. It was a curious animal. It stood there with stumpy legs and scruntched up face staring at me as if was saying "I don't know what you are. You wait till I give you a sniff sunshine. Then we'll see what you're made of". The poor woman holding the leash implored her dog to come away from the kerb and walk obediently by her side. As sometimes happens with headstrong dogs, it took no notice. Instead it followed me as I crossed the road, slowly beginning to pace forwards to intercept my course. Having given me a quick smell and deciding I was basically harmless, the dog then lost interest, trying to cross the road the other way in the face of oncoming traffic despite the urgent appeals and muscular strain of pulling it back. The woman actually apologised for her errant beast, but I was merely amused. Two hours later I had reason to walk the same way. There was the woman, on the other side of the road, making futile attempts to persuade her dog to follow her. The dog saw me walk past. It's gaze said "What are you laughing at?" Puppy of the Week On my way to use the internet this morning I spotted a small puppy playing beside two boys. A little thing, a small Jack Russel terrier, which started yapping as soon as it spotted me in optimistic challenges to my right of passage. Instead, I turned toward the puppy. It stopped yapping. It stopped wagging its tail. The mother of the pup saw me and sprinted into view. She was not impressed with me either, and gave me a warning yap to behave myself in the presence of her youngster. Of course, once beside them, they both decided I wasn't dangerous and both said hello in the canine manner, excitedly wagging tails and jumping up. The little one was only nine weeks old. It had such a pleasant personality to it. I hope it retains that friendliness when the school of hard knocks makes it a little warier.

Some evidence would be nice - you haven't provided any. But don't bother. I doubt many of us are interested in a debate over the meanings of the English language. The issue of how you see professional and amateur status isn't supposed to be rigidly defined - it's a loose description based on context and I'm sure if you ask most people understand perfectly well what was meant. But were the Romans paramount military experts? Many people like to think so. The enduring image of a well honed military machine stirs something in our psyche, though I suspect it's little more than a romantic notion. Troops at the time of Cannae were militia. That means citizens called to the field. What does it mean to be a citizen? In our modern view, rights and privileges are the first things that spring to mind. However, the Romans were keen to stress honour and obligation, particularly with regard to military duties. A citizen wasn't merely a member of the population who had a certain status, he was also expected to perform for the defence of those privileges. In the modern world, we see civilians called up for war and and trained as soldiers, some having never even seen military firearms before, let alone handled them (the availability of modern media means the current generation is a little more clued up to begin with). In the Roman world, violence is more prevalent in ordinary life. Swords are commonplace. Since the Romans had no real division between civilian and soldier during the Punic Wars (apart from actually serving) the question of swordplay comes readily to mind. Immediately we think of training. We know the later permanent legions established a persistent standard. That did take time to develop however, as the accounts of Roman attempts to quell a rebellion by escaped gladiators show that at first they were panicked by a suprise night time raid on their camp and simply ran off, or in the second case a legion described as unfit for battle. That was thirty years or so after the Reforms of Marius and Pompey felt obliged to decimate his troops to motivate them sufficiently. We do know that Scipio introduced retraining for his experienced men in 209BC, seven years after Cannae. This has been suggested as evidence of a wider programme, but I suspect not. The argument is simple. Scipio was bringing his veterans up to speed. The description of the training accentuates 'practice', not 'instruction'. Why would veterans need swordplay lessons? They already had expeience of combatand simply needed honing to a fine edge. But what of the hastatii, the front rank of newbies recently called to serve? It is generally assumedthat they received training to make them effective soldiers. Certainly they must have been drilled to a degree or their ability to hold formation would have been lousy. To what extent though would te commander hve attempted to make them capable soldiers? He already had those, the trarii, and it was Roman practice to keep these veterans in the third rank to preserve them as much as possible. Inherent in that idea is the concept that the front rank were considered expendable. These were men called up, with little experience or ability at warfare, and only by survival would they progress to the back ranks. It is well known that the Romans were willing to sustain heavy casualties to achieve their objectives and to some extent the front rank must have been viewed as cannon-fodder. Would a commander invest a great deal of time in training these men to fight well? Our modern hindsight immediately screams yes. Of course. But that ignores a fundamental difference between us and the Romans. We consider an infantryman an equal of another, and experience in units is a useful commodity but individuals are not segregated according to this quality. The Romans did. It was part of their legionary organisation to seperate men who had or hadn't experience of battle, and to use them accordingly. Logically then a Roman commander has littl incentive to teach recruits the finer points of swordplay. Many of them had handled swords before, even if not in battle, and at its heart the act of thrusting a sword is not a matter of skill. Of course, doing so well most definitely is, but since the front rank were destined to bear the brunt of combat, to serve as a buffer between the enemy and the Roman veterans, a high degree of excellence was not required, nor was it realistic to attain without actual experience. This was the way Romans trained their troops in the manipular system - enough tuition to get them started - then hard lessons in the field. They learned by bitter experience. Since their commanders had been politcally appointed there was no guarantee an individual genmeral was any good at all. He had, after all, got the job through popularity at the polls. Now it is true that such individuals would make claims about their military prowess, such was the importance of military achievement right from the earliest days of the Republic, but importantly the Romans believed such capability was inherited. A son would be a chip off the old block s it were, and to have famous war heroes in their ancestory guaranteed a certain level of respect even if the actual talent of the individual amounted to zero. Were the Romans of c.200BC the paramount military experts of their era? Of course not. They weren't sufficiently coherent or persistent as a military force to achieve that accolade. Hannibal knew full well how lousy they could be, and his operational tactics revolved around exploiting the Roman weaknesses which he did effectively on four occaisions. What the Romans did have however was a communal spirit - one reason whytheir militia system persisted - and a large enough empire to replace casualties however strained that capacity became. Further, they were lucky enough to find a commander, or rather, have a commander who found his voice and demanded the Senate maintain action against Carthage. Would the Romans have survived had not Scipio taken the war to Africa, motivating his troops with leadership and a sense of readiness?

British weather is notorious. We have a long standing tradition of beginning conversations on that topic. Today will be no exception. Hurricane Bill (or what was left of it) certainly made an impression. It didn't rain throughout the week but we had some heavy showers and yet more amber triangles on our television screens every hour. Today is sunny and bright, a hazy vista of pale blue sky and silver edged cumulus on the horizon. It's also distinctly cold. Hang on, isn't this August? What happened to Global Warming? I thought we were all going to die of heat stroke? Seven Year Service It's no good, my old guitar has served well but it needs a fettle. So off I went down to the local music store and asked for a seven year service (my description, not theirs). The resident guitar guru asked to see my guitar and promptly rattled off an annoyingly good solo on it, declaring it was fine. Yes... But the intonation might be off? He shrugged and told me he couldn't complete the work before October anyway because he's getting married and won't be in the workshop until then. What? You mean to tell me you're having sex and not fixing my guitar? Researcher of the Week Recently I've been bumping into an old mate of mine. I used to play in bands with H during my days as a local wannabee drum hero, and none too suprisingly, he still plays bass guitar even after twenty five years. He does sessions in London now and good for him. However, he also now haunts the library as I do but his intention is to research medals, and every time I see him he's buried in family tree and military websites collating information. I asked him curiosity how many medals he'd researched. About six hundred, he tells me. All that work and you just know H won't do anything with it. What is it with people in this town? There's another guy I know who's an expert on the American Civil War, and someone who's given lectures over there on that very subject. Some people might be able to tell you which units fought at the Battle of Anyoldburg, but he can tell you who their commander was, what he had for breakfast that day, and the name of the dog he fed the scraps to. But he won't write a book on the subject. I know the gentleman concerned is strongly anti-war in his thinking (perhaps that's no bad thing considering) and considers the glorification and entertainment aspects of military study as undesirable. For that reason, he always concentrates on peripheral issues dealing with his favourite conflict and dislikes discussing the actual confrontations themselves, despite being supremely knowledgable about them. All that research and it will die with him. Surely the study of history is to perpetuate knowledge and understanding?

All armies are either 'professional' or 'amateur', their ability might be implied but is more often to do with leadership, motivation, and more importantly, experience. Some amateur formations are highly motivated and capable, others derisably hopeless. The same is true of otherwise professional groups. Professional is this context simply means a permanent career establishment, not necessarily the standard they worked to. If you want to discuss facts, the essential point is this - Roman generals were political appointees, not career officers. Now whilst many had previous experience of command in junior roles, that merely ensured they had some idea of procedure. Generals were not chosen for military ability, but because their face fitted, or because they had no choice left but to select a certain individual however disagreeable it was to senatorial sensibilities. Secondly, during the Punic Wars, the Romans were a militia. They had no standing professional army as they did later and inevitably that means that many of the procedural matters that we take for granted in the modern day such as training were not consistent or indeed evident. A man with a sword was a man with a sword, and the attitude that a man fighting for his home was a better man than a barbarian seeking to capture it isn't necessarily true and typical of leadership methods of the time. I'm curious to know where your evidence is. If it's Vegetius, we can dismiss that as a catalogue of anecdotes. If it's Polybius, surely a supremacist would proudly exaggerate his nations legions? More to the point, Polybius wrote his account of the legions of his day around 150BC, shortly before Carthage was finished off. At that time, the experience gathered in the previous conflicts was current and available. So in a sense, even if Polybius is accurate in his estimations, he was describing the legions during a period when they were benefitting from the experience of campaigning. One essential point of warfare which is true of all periods is that armies often march to war assuming they'll be back within a short time (these days the phrase is 'Home by Christmas'), reflecting a naivety about what they're undertaking. Hannibals mercenaries were under no such illusions. Many were veterans of the Spanish campaigns, others blooded warriors seeking another war to fight (even in the modern day, experienced soldiers often prefer to continue their trade after leaving the services), and noticeably the majority stayed with HAnnibal during the privations of the crossing of the Alps. Not during the Punic Wars Scylla. The army went home after the fight and citizens wouldn't ordinarily expect to serve for twenty years. Then again, if it took twenty years to impart training, one suspects it was rubbish to begin with. It's a fallacy to see the Roman legions of this era as a superbly trained elite corps. They simply weren't. Your evidence says very much the reverse. They were often lax, poorly trained, badly motivated, and hurriedly raised. Indeed, the reputation of later legions is exaggerated too. Sure they had successes and some legions were better than others, but really all you're trying to is perpetuate the myth of Roman invincibility. You like the legend. In theory. However, a closed shop like the Senate weren't likely to back any old bod for the job. It was all about who you knew and a great deal of backscratching. In general, the outstanding new men were excluded at first because their potential ability was threatening to the old order of things. The Romans didn't want self made men returning with ideas in their head. Firstly, the Romans had no national army at this time. Secondly, a legion, or levy of troops, was never intended to be permanent at all. The whole point was to fight whatever battle was needed and go home. The Romans didn't want a permanent army because they knew full well it was politically dangerous and contrary to their societal model constructed after Tarquinus was ousted, but it was the changing political situation on the larger scale that encouraged Marius to create legions as permanent military corps fifty years after Carthage had gone, not to mention a good deal of expedience and personal experience.

The plumber was back early this morning. Apparently his previous repair hadn't solved the leaking water that my downstairs neighbour was so concerned about. He had every reason to be so, since it turns out the electrical wiring downstairs is uncomfortably close to the pipes. Anyway, the much harassed plumber rebuilt my bathroom in record time before I popped down to the library. Can't see any smoke coming from downstairs, so perhaps this time the problem is solved? Playgrounds The local paper has made a big deal about the renovation of childrens play areas around the town. I do wonder about that because I don't see kids using those facilities, which seem frequented by drug users more often. As an adult I also realise that using these facilities is going to draw attention to me, partly because it labels me as a mentally deficient person (I'm too old to have fun after all!) but also because solitary adults socialising with kids is a definite no-no these days. Therefore I'll not bother with the playgrounds, and I suspect the kids won't either because it's just too uncool compared to playstations and mobile phones (or even copying more adult behaviour), so the drug users in Swindon can be assured that the Council is looking after their native enviroment. Tourist Trap of the Week Is none other than our very own Swindon. Despite its grey and rainy image, and the fact that some major renovation schemes in the town have been cancelled due to economic downturns and banking cock-ups, Swindon is pressing ahead with plans to make our red brick town a place for tourists to stop by and relax. I also note that in an editorial column Swindon was defended on the grounds that its critics are using obselete and incorrect opinion. Thanks for the tip. I'll take another wander around the town and see what I find. My guess is that it's pretty much the same as yesterday.

The big red van slowed to crawl outside my home and drove onto the pavement so as not to obstruct the road. I hope there's no policeman around, because usually they give drivers parking on the pavement a right ticking off, like they did to the television repair man the last time he called. As it happened, the delivery driver handed me the expected parcel and I had to sign electronically on this wierd gizmo of his. Now, at this point you're probably expecting me to shout yahoo! and jump about in excited anticipation of putting my poor old computer back on par. Sadly, it arrived too late. My computer has died, this time spectacularly. The power supply and the motherboard are both fried. Again, at this point you're expecting me to get all depressed and philosophical about the trials and woes that life puts in our path. What's the point? I've done that once already. I think I'm starting to get used to this level of adversity. As it happens, it turns out that computer hardware is something like a third cheaper than it was ten years ago. So this time, I only have to sell one family member into slavery. Just In Time It seems my local computer repair shop is moving to premises across town. Oh come on guys, am I really that bad a customer? Back and Forth I've gotten into an email exchange over one of my job applications. The person who received it at some anonymous department somewhere sent it back saying they couldn't process it because the vacancy reference was missing. No it isn't, I replied, it's there, in the message, right in front of you. Ah, the next reply said, I haven't put it in the title, so they can't do anything. You're right, you can't. Education of Week Finally, and with only days to spare, the College has sent me the details of the electrical awareness course they want me to do before I sign up for another government sponsored training opportunity. So it's get the form stamped at the Job Centre... "Have you got a letter of entitlement to benefits?" The woman asked. Erm... No... Since you asked. Oh come on, I pass this desk every fortnight and I once lost my temper with you. Surely you remember me? She sighed and vanished for ten minutes to find some evidence that I exist.

My point is a bit abstract. The problem is essentially that we have a dilemma (how to deal with an oncoming phalanx) and require a solution. Now we humans are creatures of habit, and if we spot a solution to a given problem, we tend to use that without any more thought. Thinking is something many humans prefer not to bother with. In other words, to any problem we tend to apply procedural and methodical solutions, which we expect to work before we begin applying the remedy. Computer game players are the worst for that. Since such games are essentially predictable, then any single method of dealing with a virtual obstacle results in the same action from the player every time, because we know it works and thinking about how to solve the problem is no longer necessary. That's all very well, but we human beings are also social animals and sensitive to other peoples repetitive actions if we're of an alert and wiley disposition. That's a hunting instinct. Spotting where the prey is likely to be and where it's vulnerable. Warfare is unfortunately not a procedural enviroment. It might seem so, and various games on a warlike theme might reinforce that image, but if you confront an enemy in a procedural and methopdical manner you will lose spectacularly as soon as the enemy leader realises that. In fact, Rome suffered this very problem. Their own penchant for organisation and caution made them vulnerable as we often see in the historical record, whatever the quality of men, arms, and equipment at any given period. Succesful leaders in ancient warfare are those who were observant, intelligent, quick thinkers. I don't want to get too deeply involved in the philosophy of battle and quote endlessly from Sun Tzu, but knowing your enemy really does have benefits to your chances of winning a campaign. Performing as expected and doing the routine things every time will soon make your practises known to an enemy, and once he knows that, he can plan around you. It's therefore very easy to say that all you need to do is X Y and Z in any given situation, but can you actually do that? I remember a lecture by an experienced F16 pilot. He said that there is no given solution to any situation. It isn't chess. It isn't procedural. It's thinking faster than your enemy and being able to place yourself at an advantage. So it was with warfare in Roman times, as the Romans themselves repeatedly found. It is true the Romans ditched the phalanx for a more flexible system, but the Romans as a whole didn't think of that. It would have been down to one clever individual to realise there was something better and the influence to see changes put into practice. However, whilst the Roman manipular system worked to their advantage in many cases, there are also situations where it wouldn't, and to blithely say all they needed to was this or that is a procedural manner of thinking that ignores to variable enviroment of the battlefield. Situation, condition, and tactics are all important factors as much as swords and shields, something that ancient writers sometimes hint at (even if the lesson wasn't always learned). In fact, many ancient battles were won the night before, when the commander told his troop leaders what he wanted.

Bill is here. The remnant of Hurricane Bill is currently passing across the coast of Scotland on its way to Norway bringing wet and windy weather to the the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. Actually it's not too bad. I did get caught in a shower yesterday - an occupational hazard of living in Britain - but that left me slightly damp, not soaked. Compared to what's going on in the big wide world, my encounter with a few raindrops means nothing... The news is full of the usual tragedy and strife that makes current events such interesting viewing if somewhat shocking and depressing on occaision. Headlines reveal a great deal. Ted Kennedy taking the secret of Chappaquiddick to his grave, a doctor arrested on homicide charges over Michael Jacksons untimely demise, a sharp rise in jobless British households, a five year old child shot dead with an air rifle in Wiltshire, crowds of football hooligans fighting each other at Upton Park in London, a young lady so upset about her exam results that she stabbed her boyfriend to death, another man stabbed after answering a hoax advert, thugs attack a ninety year old woman, and even James May's attempt to create the longest toy train journey ever was disrupted by vandals nicking track sections or short circuiting the bits left behind with coins. Not so long ago a christian woman was trying to make a hard sell of her religion. I've no doubt she had some ulterior motive to improve her sects headcount at services - perhaps I'm a little cynical? - but at one point she asked me in an attempt to pierce my spiritualist armour "Don't you think human beings are special?" Personally, I think all too often Human Beings are bad news. Good News of the Week Sometimes you have to wonder at the mentality of television program makers. Take Big Brother for instance. Take a dozen assorted wierdo's and hopeless cases, put them in a socially isolated house, and watch every single thing they do, for entertainment. Why on earth would any sensible, well adjusted, fulfilled human being waste their time as a fly on the wall to these people? To some extent it's marketing of course, but the problem with that is once the novelty wears off viewers lose interest, and they have done exactly that. So much disinterest in fact that Big Brother is to be axed. Good news at last.

Possibly, but then why didn't that always happen? But even more interestinglym why didn't armies fighting each other with phalanxes employ javeliners and slingers to achieve the same result?

My parcel from the States should be due any day now. I'll be glad when it gets here, so I can restore my PC to it's former glory. The hassle of course is making yourself available to sign for the delivery when it finally arrives. Past experience has shown that parcels mysteriously vanish from the doorstep, and on occaision, a naughty delivery driver took the parcel away and signed my name for it. In the meantime, what has the postman brought me today? Lets see... One letter. From the delivery people no less. That has to be about my order. It is! It seems that HM Customs & Excise want VAT paid on it (that's a sort of purchase tax, if anyone out there doesn't know) and the delivery company want a fee for handling it through customs. There's an option to pay by phone which is quick and convenient, so I'll try that.... It was of course an automated system. Key in your thirteen digit delivery code... Now.... Okedokee. That worked. Your postcode is SN1... Is that correct? Press 1 for Yes, or.... Yes yes yes, it's correct. Key in your credit card number... Now.... Right then. 1234 5678 9012 3456.... Key in your credit card number... Now.... What? Again? Oh all right then... 1234 5678 9012 3456.... Key in your credit card number... Now.... What is this? Some sort of game? Get to the next level and receive your parcel? Oh I give up, I'll pay them online this afternoon, assuming the delivery company has mastered the World Wide Web. In case anyone was wondering how expensive life in Britain is these days, it cost me ten pounds to have a small parcel sent three thousand miles across the Atlantic. It's going to cost me twice that to send it thirty miles from Bristol. Recipe Of The Week As a single guy, I have to cook for myself. No, that's not a sexist lament, I do enjoy cooking as long as it doesn't take more than twenty minutes. I've got no time for complex recipes nor for that matter the wallet to afford obscure ingredients, and even cheap stuff from the supermarket costs twice what it did a couple of years ago - government please note. Occaisionally though I come up with a real gem... Try this recipe at home... Irish Pasta Cook sliced meat (lamb works nicely) in an oven and place on a plate. Open a tin of irish stew and empty into a suacepan. Add a touch of brown sauce and pepper sauce. Stir. Heat gently. Pour sauce over meat. Heat a saucepan of pasta. Twirls or tubes work best (sorry, don't know the italian names), place on top of the plate, and sprinkle coarse pepper if required. It tastes great, it really does.

And if constrained by terrain? Or unable to outflank a larger army using phalanxes?

Every so often I get asked which team I support. The question of course always applies to football, or more specifically, soccer, but the questioner assumes you already know that and that you follow the results with an encyclopedic knowledge of every individual involved in the game. I have to say that sport as a whole fails to move me. Fine if you're actually playing it, when it becomes a contest between teams or individuals concerned, but to cheer from the sidelines always seems a bit like pornography to me. You're supposed to get excited watching someone else do it. Last night I sat down to watch the evening news. Let's find out what's going on out there.... I hardly needed to read the headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen. Yes, England beat Australia at Cricket. I already know, I heard the yobboes chanting victory songs all the way up the road. I'd like to think that sort of celebration will keep them busy and out of trouble, but you just know it won't. So England won the Ashes eh? Well that's a matter of world shaking significance isn't it? Commiseration to the Aussies but if it's any consolation, I shan't be gloating because I just don't care. Partly that's because cricket is a game that bores me completely, but mostly because it's expected that I should be interested, and that gets up my nose. The second question I get asked every so often is... So what sport are you interested in?... Well... Walking home yesterday through a well-to-do area I heard a householder open his garage. A few moments later, the raucous sound of a powerful erupted into life. It was of course a Ferrari, a gleaming red 360, and the noise was unmistakeable. He went off for a Sunday drive with the engine appealing to him to floor the throttle. What a sound! I get goosebumps just thinking about it. The answer to life, universe, and sport is therefore motor racing. And no, I don't follow it. But it sure is fun indulging in a passion once in a while isn't it? When you can afford to of course. For now I shall have to sit on the sidelines, and watch the bright red machine growl away into the distance. Sheer *or*. Cat of the Week Of course it isn't just cars that people use to display wealth and status. Even domestic pets can be used as designer labels. The recent trend toward purpose bred pets isn't something I think is particularly desirable, but sometimes you get the impression that some supposedly pedigree breeds are no more than a fancy label. Ever heard of a Belgian Leopard Cat? Well, one household of my acquaintance has, though I think they meant Bengal Leopard Cat, and the slightly disagreeable animal has already destroyed their furniture. I guess sometimes keeping a fancy pet requires a little more wealth than expected.

On hearing that Lucius Caecilius Metellus and other politicians were at the point of surrender, Scipio gathered with his followers and stormed into the meeting, where at sword-point he forced all present to swear that they would continue in faithful service to Rome. Fortunately, the Roman Senate was of like mind and refused to entertain thoughts of peace despite the great losses Rome had taken in the war

What a lovely morning! The sun is shining, the drunks are sleeping it off in police cells, and the library has resumed a quiet mood as we all sit down and log on to pursue our various browsing needs. Logging on first thing in the morning isn't a hassle any more either. AM has vanished... what? Has he actually gone South Africa? Or has he succumbed to old age?... I actually miss his verbal presence even if he was a complete scoundrel. Not like yesterday of course. IHaving left some time unused I popped back in the aftermnoon to finish off with some research on World War two aircraft - That's another hobby of mine and one dating back to my childhood. Like many others the catalogue of Airfix plastic kits was the gateway to my youthful imagination as I flew these little aeroplanes complete with scale lumps of badly applied glue in my mind. Of course my imaginary war was nothing like close to reality, but I didn't know that then. Anyway, the booking screen was offline. Oh that's a good start. The lady on the helpdesk apologised over the phone to someone else about the lack of facility whilst I pateiently waited for the same reason. Once her phone call had terminated with a final apology, she enquired what I wanted then apologised to me for the same reason. Nonetheless, she did manage to book me a PC on her administrator system. Middle floor, at the far end, a place of busy teenage interaction that I had avoided up until now. I would like to thank the young boy sat on my right the other side of the partition. His constant commentary on his progress through the computer game he was playing certainly grabbed my attention. He was only about seven or eight years old, but showed his experience and appreciation of the computer game genre when he said "This game should be boring but I find it strangely appealing". Personally, I think his parents should buy him a baseball cap and teach him to wear it at a strange angle before he grows up to be a geek. He is, after all, very annoying already. The rest of the teenage crowd was also annoying. One lad performed a monotonous drum solo on his desk, a couple of girls were doing girly things with mobile phones, and one lad was giving the world the benefit of his experience of street survival. I've got another twenty minutes of this.... I'm in Hell.... Virtual Fun of the Week Okay, I admit it, I occaisionally play computer games. Yesterday was Grand Theft Auto: San Andreas, a sort of surreal simulation of gangs in 90's LA. Despite the ammoral game content (Stealing cars, shooting policemen, spraying graffiti everywhere, and racking up crime statistics the Kray Brothers could only dream of - and yes, you can also pull prostitutes if you... I'll stop there) it really is good fun. However, I decided to pop in to the Ten Green Bottles bar up the road from my virtual home, and made for the pool table, a game within a game. Over the course of the contest, I won twenty six thousand dollars from some street hoodlum. Did LA gangsters really have that sort of cash in their pockets of an evening? Or is this computer game not quite true to life?

Over the last few days there's been a flatbed lorry parked partially on the pavement during the day whilst it's crew of workmen barricade the pavement off and dig shallow trenches. Nothing unusual there. If there's one one thing to say about Swindon, it has holes in it. Given how unreliable the electricity supply was becoming it's no wonder they dug a few more. But hang on a moment... What is going on? Now the trench has been filled in the workmen left two upright grey metal poles standing in the pavement. For the moment, there's nothing fixed to them, but seeing as they're located at the end of the new trench I can assume that something electrical will be placed there. The two poles form a wonderful obstacle for drunks meandering up and down the street. Do they get electrocuted too? Oh I wish... Bump In The Night In the early hours of this morning I was woken by a loud noise. It wasn't likely to be the offices across the road. They're all boarded now. I couldn't see anything untoward out the back of the house, and wondered in some late night reveller had collided with the poles down the road. However, as I left the house to visit the library this morning I spotted a pile of scrap wooden boards and old carpets dumped in next doors front yard. If that had been my yard, blood would be boiling. For now, I can only sympathise.

During an interview in 1966, John Lennon expressed his opinion that Christianity was dying and that the Beatles were more popular than Jesus. Not in South America it seems because they banned airplay of their albums until 1971. Nor was the American 'Bible Belt' particularly impressed. Their records still sell even today and whilst their popularity as a band may have faded compared to that of Jesus, we still have a legacy of music to enjoy. It's interesting to study the way their image was presented. On the one hand, they were that loveable bunch of 'mopheads' having harmless fun, on the other sex symbols, and I once saw an early video clip showing Ringo Starr in soft focus with a cigarette hanging out his mouth. Hilarious. Not just music either, because the Beatles also made feature films. In 1968 they made Yellow Submarine, an animated cartoon story, in which the characters voices were not those of the band (who only make an appearance right at the end as a cameo). I've always had a soft spot for Yellow Submarine. Not sure why, because it's not the psychedelic cartoon style, nor for that matter the subliminal message about the recreational use of drugs. There's already a computer game in the works (if not already released, but I'm not interested and computer games are always released two years late due to one reason or another) that will allow the player to relive the Beatles as a virtual band experience. This seems to be a growing genre in it's own right. Some musicians have complained that such games are alternatives to learning real instruments and working music as a career for real, something I find a little odd, because no-one is going to be famous stood playing air guitar in front of their monitor screens. I must admit, I do find that genre uncomfortable, but in my case it's because it reinforces a fantasy in a vulnerable minority who might believe that they too can be famous and don't realise how disappointing the 'real world' can be. Now I hear that Disney is to remake the film using modern animation techniques. The first version was awful but got away with it because of sheer optimism. Will this one recapture the same madcap mood? It will certainly capture some dollars. Tantrum of the Week This accolade goes to the Spanish gentleman who was unsatisfied with the snacks he was served with. Despite the bar staff telling him to calm down, he proceeded to smash bottles, glasses, chairs, or anything else that came to hand. Now there's a gentleman who needs to chill. I would recommend watching Yellow Submarine. Relax, enjoy the cartoon. Chill. But he'll probably only complain it's not the Disney version and destroy his television...

Some survivors of the disaster who had escaped from the battle or from captivity, described how this was the spot where the officers fell, how yonder the eagles were captured, where Varus was pierced by his first wound, where too by the stroke of his own ill-starred hand he found for himself death. Annals (Tacitus)

I wonder? What wonderful communications has the postman brought me today? Let's see.... Two rejection letters from employers (I barely read them now), a glossy pamphlet offering two pizzas for the price of one (I always thought they were a tad expensive), and a couple of the local community newsletters that keep me in touch with the latest developments in and around my home. Big news today then is Queens Park, a little refuge of tranquility just around the corner from where I live. Not so tranquil any more it seems. The Council had decided not to bother locking it up at night to save money, and inevitably the sudden increase in anti-social behaviour has made them rethink that false economy. The vandals and druggies are going to look for somewhere else to reduce to urban ruin then. I heard one last night getting upset about something. Was that the alcohol talking? A few days ago I caught the tail end of a television program about alcohol and violence in Britain. It focused on one troublesome area and all looked hauntingly familiar. The talking heads interviewed expressly condemned cheap alcohol as the cause of violence, pointing at the phenomenon of pub 'Happy Hours' and bargain deals of various potent brews available in pubs and clubs. Funny thing is, I think they missed the point. It isn't alcohol to blame at all, but the people who drink it. Okay, a bloke tanked up on several pints probably isn't going to be particularly rational, but then, they knew full well they were going to get drunk (and violent) before they set out of an evening. Now whereas the availability of alcohol is making things worse - I can't disagree there - is a sober society really going to abolish these violent tendencies? Urban Learning and Leisure In another U-turn the council have decided to leave the Old Town library open after all. There's been quite an outcry from those who use the small and and unassuming premises. Perhaps if they leave it open, the vandals and druggies will have somewhere to go? Perhaps not. The Shape of U-Turns To Come There's another change in Council policy looming, this one over car park charges. Recently they doubled prices and inevitably aggrieved citizens and visitors are complaining about paying up more. The cost of parking a car in Swindon hasn't been cheap for some time because the Council wanted to persuade drivers to park on the edge of town and get a bus to complete their journey (I don't know about you, but don't you think that rather defeat the object of owning a motor car in the first place?) but two of those Park & Ride schemes are closing soon, through lack interest. Surely not?

Soldiers, all of whom were six feet tall (which I assume is Roman measurement - that would make them at least five feet nine inches in ours - Romans had an average height of a modern five feet four inches). Given they were raw recruits, intemnded more for display than fighting prowess, one shouldn't be suprised that they faded from history rather quickly.

I need a memory upgrade. Since I'm in the mood to correct my errors, here's some details on Nero's interests in Chariot racing... From his earliest years he had a special passion for horses and talked constantly about the games in the Circus, though he was forbidden to do so. Once when he was lamenting with his fellow pupils the fate of a charioteer of the "Greens," who was dragged by his horses, and his preceptor scolded him, he told a lie and pretended that he was talking of Hector. At the beginning of his reign he used to play every day with ivory chariots on a board, and he came from the country to all the games, even the most insignificant, at first secretly, and then so openly that no one doubted that he would be in Rome on that particular day. He made no secret of his wish to have the number of prizes increased, and in consequence more races were added and the performance was continued to a late hour, while the managers of the troupes no longer thought it worth while to produce their drivers at all except for a full day's racing. He soon longed to drive a chariot himself and even to show himself frequently to the public; so after a trial exhibition in his gardens before his slaves and the dregs of the populace, he gave all an opportunity of seeing him in the Circus Maximus, one of his freedmen dropping the napkin from the place usually occupied by the magistrates... ...He also drove a chariot in many places, at Olympia even a ten-horse team, although in one of his own poems he had criticised Mithridates for just that thing. But after he had been thrown from the car and put back in it, he was unable to hold out and gave up before the end of the course; but he received the crown just the same.... Life of Nero (Suetonius) Although Nero is described lamenting a 'Green' charioteers death, that doesn't mean he supported that faction - but it is a possible indicator. And some extra info from Wikipedia.... For some reason I thought it was Nero who formed the extra two teams. Whoops... I apologise for that He had such enthusiasm for the horse-races that he actually decorated the famous race-horses that had passed their prime with the regular street costume for men and honoured them with gifts of money for their feed. Thereupon the horsebreeders and charioteers, encouraged by this enthusiasm on his part, proceeded to treat both the praetors and the consuls with great insolence; and Aulus Fabricius, with praetor, finding them unwilling to take part in the contests on reasonable terms, dispensed with their services, and training dogs to draw chariots, introduced them in place of horses. At this, the wearers of the White and of the Red immediately entered their chariots for the races; but as the Greens and the Blues would not participate even then, Nero himself furnished the prizes for the horses and the horse-race took place.... ....When he had finished these ceremonies, he announced a series of horse-races, and carrying into the Circus these crowns as well as all the others that he had secured by his victories in chariot-racing, he placed them around the Egyptian obelisk. The number of them was one thousand eight hundred and eight. And after doing this he appeared as a charioteer. Roman History Books 61-62 (Cassius Dio) Shortly afterwards, the information of the same men proved fatal to Subrius Flavus. At first he grounded his defence on his moral contrast to the others, implying that an armed soldier, like himself, would never have shared such an attempt with unarmed and effeminate associates. Then, when he was pressed, he embraced the glory of a full confession. Questioned by Nero as to the motives which had led him on to forget his oath of allegiance, "I hated you," he replied; "yet not a soldier was more loyal to you while you deserved to be loved. I began to hate you when you became the murderer of your mother and your wife, a charioteer, an actor, and an incendiary." Annals (Tacitus)

My mistake, they weren't his personal guards.... He also prepared for an expedition to the Caspian Gates, after enrolling a new legion of raw recruits of Italian birth, each six feet tall, which he called the "phalanx of Alexander the Great." Life of Nero (Suetonius)