caldrail

I have remembered that there is an account of Roman legionaries mounting raids on German villages in the late empire, using shields as flotation devices to cross rivers and attack stealthily.

I'm not aware of any description in the sources of Romans struggling with overweight water-laden shields. That doesn't mean there isn't one, I just haven't found anything like that. There was a case in Germanicus's campaigns in Germania when the legions were marching in areas subject to tidal flooding, literally up to their necks in water and many slipping and drowning under the weight of equipment. Tacitus doesn't specifically mention the shield as I recall but it's worth checking.

Funny how sometimes we get reminded of things we did long ago. Watching a progam talking about the private lives of those vivacious and intense Roman citizens I couldn't help but smile. A little while ago I was contacted by an old friend who wanted to know if I was interested in a get-together over a pint. It meant a night in the company of a former girlfriend, P, but to be honest I was only too happy to meet up and swap stories. P and I had been in a casual relationship for years. Although it did fall apart somewhat, we're stil friends. Game on. So we got busy laughing and joking. Only one of the old crowd wasn't there. P's friend S, a quiet, quirky lady whose company we accepted as the normal course of things. She'd been... simply... there. Where was she, I asked? The world was not at one with itself without S in the background. P looked at me with that sort of face that concealed secrets, guilt, and things I was not meant to know. Oh no. There are no secrets between P and me. The gentle interrogation began and finally she sighed and asked "You remember that day we went to Savernake?" I did indeed. On that particular day I wanted to go hiking in Savernake forest. P was never a woman keen on walking further than she had to but I guess she wanted some excuse to escape her daily routine and opted to come with me, at least as far as the car park. Her friend S came with her for company. I got a day in the forest, they got a picnic in the woods. Finally I returned to the car, weary, footsore, but as always refreshed by my wanderings around what passes for wilderness in England. Immediately I noticed an odd atmosphere in the car. Were those two enjoying a joke at my expense? The more I probed for an answer, the more they shared a glance and giggled. Women... I dunno... But that was a long time ago. P rolled her eyes and in one breath admitted that S had made a pass at her. S? S made a lesbian pass at P? I was utterly fascinated. Back when I first met S, she was always looking at me and until I got used to her I always wondered if she fancied me. One night I decided to find out. No, said S with a firm gesture, no. But it made no difference to the dynamics of our social group. No hard feelings. Nonetheless I had nagging doubts. On one night in a pub I was sat with both P and S together and some bloke sauntered past enquiring which of the girls I was with. For some reason that annoyed me and I quickly answered "Both of them". Neither of my lady friends made any denial. Both were happy with my declaration. Does that sound a bit odd? It somehow felt that way. I looked at P with new found respect. My former girl was a lesbian? Did you, I asked with an amused stare? "Nooo!" P answered quickly. There it was again. That look on her face. Well, not to worry. It's a funny thing about human relationships that we can sometimes be very tolerant and open about them. P bit her tongue as I made fun of her. I know her too well to be fooled by that innocent playfulness with a wine glass. She probably doesn't know this but it was all too obvious that things had gone further than an awkward enquiry between friends. Not that I minded at all, because as it turned out I was having as much fun as she was. Local Crime Of The Week Just the other day I discovered that police are looking for a man who robbed some teenagers at gunpoint round the corner from where I live. That sort of thing doesn't usually go on in England and never outside a big city. Makes me wonder if the death threat I got last weekend wasn't entirely paranoia. Or maybe it is. Kinda hard to tell by now...

Plutarch was rewarded by the Caesar of his day (I forget which one it was) for his work in settling differences between greece and its Roman masters.

"Hey mate!" Hissed a builder as I strolled by the old college car park that is now being fenced off in preparation for Demolition Day. "Can I borrow yer barbells?" Pardon me? Either that young man has discovered that erecting the ramparts around the site is physicaslly demanding and urgently requires a body building regime, or I've just been propositioned by a gay builder. Walk on, Caldrail, walk on... I mean, what on earth was that youngster thinking? Does he really believe I carry large weights around in my pockets? No... Don't answer that. On The Home Front Saturday 21:30 hrs. A voice outside my home is heard to say "We'll come back when he's in." I did suspect that might be the local burglars and as a precaurtion stayed up late. Nothing happened. Tuesday 23:45 hrs. There was an odd crinckly noise. "Yeah... He's in there." I checked the entrance to my home but no sign of entry was observed. Wednesday 03:30 hrs I was woken abruptly by a loud doorbell noise. Not my own, it must be said, but my neighbours did not respond either. I'd been dimly aware of noises before that in my slumborous condition. No sign of entry. In the light of that recent death threat you'll have to excuse me for being a tad suspicious of bumps in the night. Was I overhearing those pesky local thieves, or was this a more sinister threat, or merely just somebodies idea of a sick wind-up? I hadn't really thought of it before but DW, our local intrepid online jopurnalist, has been subject to some pretty nasty attitudes from certain members of the public and I have been associated with some of his journalistic projects. Have I been targeted by bully boys intent on seeing off DW's allies? So far the Police haven't been taking DW too seriously about the masses of insults and threats directed at him. The internet is full of talk, as it were, but is this a sign of a war leaking into the real world? I'll have to stop feeding my rottweiller.

The persistence of empire as a political structure reflects the dymanism of the politics within it. In situations where the leadership becomes moribund, we see increasing instability and inaction in the face of threat. Thus the Roman Republic fails to obstruct the rise of dictatorial individuals and eventually submits to autcratic rule. We see both Parthia and Persia falling apart because they cannot obstruct the rise in power of their nobles (in much the same way that King John would later bow down to pressure and sign the Magna Carta in England eight hundred years ago). Nor for that matter is Egypt able to do more than make token resistance against Roman annexation.

Polybius enthused about the balance of executive and popular power. I'm not sure his views on this were entirely valid since Rome practised democracy with a block-vote system - citizens could vote but it wasn't one man one vote at all. Also the vote was influenced not by political policies or ideals that modern politicians sell to the public, but public generosity, image, and under the table deals. Corruption was part of Roman life and for all the disapproval it could generate, Rome functioned by it. Caesar was unusual in that he was a populist politician and appealed to the public in a more personal manner than the upper classes of Rome generally considered normal. I don't think he swept anything away at all in that respect - he was merely adding to the mix of buisiness that went on regardless. It is of course noticeable that although we call future autocrats of Rome 'emperors', that word is ours, not theirs. The ruler was called 'Caesar', in that he was the new caesar to replace the old in deference to the original, serving as a dictator for life by another name. Also I should point out that the legions loyalty to Caesar was not guaranteed and it wasn't always plain sailing for him. Further, the idea of marching an army into Rome to establish a power base wasn't new - Sulla had already broken that taboo once before and proven it could be done in spite of laws and tradition. What I would say is that whilst the earlier caesars, the infamous Julio-Claudians, spent their reigns in competition with the senate as much as living out dramatic and excessive private lives, and we see each of them (Augustus included) seeing off threats against their lives though in fairness a few of them succumbed to such pressure for one reason or another. Once the stability of government was restored after the Year of Four Emperors, there is more of a partnership in power between senate and caesar, and as the autocracy metamorphosed into a monarchy over time, so the senate receded in influence and this has been identified as one major reason for the economic and governmental decline of the Roman Empire. In other words, Caesar established a precedent, a standard of achievement, a name by which future ruklers would be called. What he did not do was change Rome.

The quote above is trying to apply the sort of tactics the nazi's used to Roman occupation. Crucifixion was a criminal punishment ordered by a magistrate or senior noble, and regarded as a means of humiliating the victim at the same time, so clearly questions of honour are involved. I would seriously doubt that upper classes were subjected to anything like that sort of punishment. There's very few examples I know of, which in itself might be indicative of the tolerant attitude the Romans had toward class. Caractacus was dragged to Rome in chains but allowed to live in Rome after showing defiance and courage in front of the senate. Caligula had some foriegn VIP killed for being more fashionable than he was, and Caesar had Vercingetorix regularly paraded as a prisoner until it all got boring and the gaul was quietly ritually strangled. Soldiers arriving in a foreign village were more prone to looting and killing, depending on whether there was anything worth taking, the urgency of the route march, the behaviour of the people toward the soldiers, or whether the commander wanted to please his men with an opportunity to gather booty. Mostly legions would simply march through and not take any notice of such a small settlement. After all, the Romans were very keen to co-opt their leaders and thus create societal alliances at top level.

The romans were not known as great sailors. Although Thor Heyedahl 'proved' the egyptians could have cross the Atlantic, you would have to ask yourself whether that was actually likely since Mr Heyedahl knew where America was and the Egyptians didn't. Greeks were competent sailors with suggestions of long voyages - they maiontained seaward trade into the Indian Ocean after the Silk Road was closed by chinese withdrawal in Roman times. As for discovering America, there's no mention of any heroic sea voyages that would give the Romans any credibility for this achievement. Far more likely the white bearded foreigners were vikings if this story has any truth to it.

Christianity was hardly an advance. It was not a roman invention to begin with and remained one mof many foreign cults (with an extremely poor reputation) until Constantine patronised for political reasons. Christianity wasn't interested in advancing Roman culture but profitting from it. In any case, the Romans had long been skilled diplomats before christianity turned up. I disagree vehemently. Both Ine and Alfred of Wessex were great lawmakers in Britain, with architecture and the first english navy resulting from the prosperity following the victory over the Danes. Other kings of the early medieval period developed cultural aspirations in Britain. At the other end of the scale, it was in Britain that religious orders very nearly kick started an industrial revolution in the 15th century. Modernity was also affected by the spread of islamic science following the crusades plus the favourable (if somewhat risky) societal enviroment of the increasingly prosperous Europe in its entirety. Such knowledge was only in the hands of specialists and treated as such. In some ways this was to avoid rivals capitalising on someone elses expertise, but on the other hand there are examples of skilled knowledgeable people being put to death so their knowledge did not pass elsewhere. In fairness I don't see much of this from the Roman sphere but all the same the Romans had not advanced much further than any other society. They were for instance still using exactly the same siege warfare assets that the greeks had pioneered before them. The existence of a three bladed water powered stone cutter is a proven remnant of their cleverness - but there was only one. These machines were not in common use, just unique examples of such mechanical devices here and there. That to me is merely the evidence of human ingenuity, not an advancing Roman science.

Me and Polybius agree completely on social science. Nation states are analogues of biological life and exhibit birth, growth, aging, and eventual death. It was inevitable that Rome would eventually disappear off the radar. As societies mature they become ritualistic and less able to respond dynamically to the threats from the world around them. It is interesting that you see Rome as a flawed republic because Polybius was admant that his republic was by far a superior model for society. Perhaps he would do. Rome was never really a technologically minded society anyway. Partly on religious grounds, being a superstitious lot, partly because of the slave economy, but also because there was no encouragement of science from those holding the purse strings. Patronage was geared toward politics and wealth, not the extension of knowledge. The problem with the Roman Empire is that it generates all sort of imagery, mostly to do with power, excess, and glory, which is attractive to us on an instinctual level. Being part of a strong tribe has definite advantages in survival and prosperity. What that blinds us to all too often is the other side of the equation. Rome was a greedy society, a ruthlessly exploitative society, one that Mary Beard says "sucks people in". It regarded itself as the centre of civilisation yet in the same way that people were used up by the potential and demands of society, so was culture. Rome absorbed culture from everyone it encountered to a greater or lesser degree. They placed their own stamp on it. Played with it a while, used what was thought useful, and cast away anything left over. Notice that the barbarian invasions of the late empire were not inspired by a desire to get rid of Rome, but rather to grab a share of it for themselves.

I dare say there's a few people who want me transported to the colonies. The thing is in order to be a success out there I would need to be motivated and willing to overcome discrimination against pommiehood. I'm not accusing the australians of being bad people but there would always be a natural inclination to favour people from their own homeland. It just wouldn't work and all I'd do is spend a lot of money acheiving nothing.

Not so long ago an office manager held up my CV during an interview and demanded to know why I thought I was famous. He had in fact completely missed the point. Firstly, I never used or even suggested the word at all. Sencondly, did he really expect me to be modest during a job interview? Too late. He was outraged by what he thought was pomposity. He was after all a small time office manager and meeting people with something to say for themselves, however modest, was beyond his experience and threatened his self worth. As it happens that sort of thing isn't unusual. The problem with being a has-been is that you struggle for credibility whether you're modest or not. Famous people live in some far off fantasy world you see. Certainly not the one inhabited by ordinary Swindoners. Back in the days when I worked in a warehouse my former adventures in the music business provoked outrage as well. Only on the one occaision when I got up on stage and performed behind a drum kit did the scorn fall quiet. It turned out I could play after all. Anyway, as I always say, if they're talking about you, you're famous. It's all a matter of scale. So although I grind my teeth sometimes at the comments, opinions, ridicule, taunts, and insults offered by members of the public who have no concept of fame beyond their popularity with friends and Facebook, I have to say that they are talking about me, not themselves. So who's more interesting? Sadly there's a flip side to fame. The glamour quickly subsides in the face of stalkers and loonies. For two years one young man has made persistent claims I own property of his. I don't, of course, but I guess it makes a good alibi for burglary in his maind. More to the point, yesterday evening, for the very first time, I received a death threat. Not, I have to say, a life experience I really wanted. Going Soon? Demolition men were spotted this morning in the old college car park this morning. That's the first I've seen any activity there. Okay, they were standing around chatting rather than blowing things up, but hey, at least they found the place.

The idea that Caligula was insane is as old as Suetonius. I don't think he was a looney at all, but rather a nasty youngster with an ego out of control. Much of the stopries attributed to Caligula that suggest insanity can be interpreted differently. For instane... His horse Incitatus as senator? That was more likely an insult to the senate which Caligula regarded as a bunch of time wasters. Legions collecting sea shells as booty? That was the result of superstitious reluctance on the part of the legions. Caligula was taking the mick out of these supposedly tough warriors and since Neptune was clearly his enemy that day... Taunting Zues in the temples? Probably, but that might be no more than a silly young man showing off and overheard by someone who didn't understand that.

It really isn't that much of a mystery. Caligula was immature, emotionally disturbed, and had an inflated ego to drive his nasty sense of humour. If ever there was a young man with too much power, it was him. Christians saw him as an example of decadence, Hollywood saw him as an example of excess, Suetonius saw him as an example of scandal. As with many celebrity rulers people see in him whatever they like.

My oh my what a wonderful day. Plenty of sunshine heading my way. That's what I like to tell myself. In reality it's now four years since I had a full time job. Somebody else seems to have noticed that as well because I got a terse text message from the programme centre the other day telling me to turn up to a mandatory activity session. The next morning a letter arrived telling me to turn up or else. "Does everyone know why you're here?" Asked the lady presenting the session. No-one answered. It turns out the government has decided that we're all going to be assigned jobs where-ever they can be found. No interviews required. The staff at the programme centre seemed a little baffled by the lack of response from us jobseekers. It wasn't that we all wanted to sit on our backsides at public expense - those that did soon revealed themselves with a desperate excuse as the truth dawned on them - but rather that here was a job given to us on a plate. Almost all of us were long term claimants. For years we've been bombarded with pep talks, warnings, advice, and training to turn us into succesful jobseekers. so where was the achievement? I wonder if the programme centre staff have realised that? Out of the Box Every so often someone pops into the museum with bags and boxes of stuff that's been lying around the house in some forgotten corner for long enough. Usually it's nothing but rubbish so when this very scenario occured today I groaned inwardly. Customer service... Smile for the customer... Listen politely to the tale of how this stuff has to find a new home or get thrown out.... As it happens this time the customer rhad brought in a box full of old vacuum tubes, some dating back to the Second World War. I looked through the collection, discovering that the black ones marked 'RCA' were american, those marked 'VR' were british military surplus, and... hallo.... What's this? German? It was. An old tube in good condition from a Luftwaffe radio set. I asked him about it and he confirmed he'd been billetted at former german airfields after the war. Young L couldn't understand why I was making a fuss. "What's the big deal?" He asked me. History, lad, history. We're so used to regarding these contributions as nothing more than other peoples unwanted rubbish that we forget some of this stuff really is a piece of the past you can reach out and touch. My oh my... What a wonderful day...

I remember the anecdote now. It was roman practice not only to impart wordly goods to new owners but also to name individuals and tell everyone what you actually thought of them in life. Unfortunately at one dinner party the guests asked for the hosts will to be read. Knowing what was in it, he politely refused, but on the insistence of his guests and one precocoius young man in particular, he diceded to after all and unfortunately the opinions of the host to that individual were not well received.

I saw a program not long ago about the history of the devil. Interesting stuff though in all hionesty I've forgotten most of it. The issue is rather confused because Eve was apparently not Adam's first girlfriend. Lilith was, and she took one look at her new partner and told God in no uncertain terms she wasn't dating him. For some reason Lilith (you might want to guess why) has been acossiated with the devil ever since. I must admit I've always thought of Satan in the same terms as most people do (ie a male demonic adversary) but the female association has a very strong historical link it seems. Didn't mean to sound sexist by the way - but girls, face it, sometimes you make our lives hell

it was also Roman practice to read wills beofre the writer had died. This was done to please friends and family (one hopes) with knowledge of what they might expect. I can't remember the anecdote off hand but I do recall one such reading at a dinner party causing some upset. Now obviously I don't know if Caesars will was already known but given his status it probably isn't too hard to believe that at some point it was. Although there would be a risk of a sudden death and a very happy recipient of the wills contents (such things were hinted in the early empire) it would also mean that any unexpected content would immediately raise suspicion, so doctoring the will in this case would need to be somewhat sneakier (Robert Graves weaves a tale about how Livia did this with Augustus's last will and testament in I Claudius)

As I understand it, the beats were not actually set alight themselves but carried something flammable to that end - though obviously I can't guarantee the poor animals weren't eventualy harmed. The point being of course that if the animals started to burn themselves, they would cease running in a single direction and begin contorting in pain.

The problem with ancient art is precisely that there's no confirmation of the style they depict and it might be merely an artistic convention. The issue of 'parade' dress is interesting because although we know that military personnel did parade in ceremonies and civic events, there's very little mention of what they were wearing. partly that's because no-one saw any reason to. If you watch soldiers parading today few would bother mentioning the spit and polish uniforms although even if clearly evident. That's something we expect because that's how parades are conducted today. There's basically two bodies of thopught. One is that parade dress was in some way identifiable by decoration or quality, or that the personnel simply cleaned and polished the kit they already had. We do need to be wary because our modern perceptions of parading come from the pleasing conformity of appearance which may well be inappropriate in dealing with the ancient world. However, whilst our hollywood style perceptions of massed ranks of indendikit soldiers carrying spears and shield are somewhat fanciful, it remains a part of human psychology that conformity is good for certain things. For that reason I suspect the Romans in all military pursuits had a similar line in appearance that other era's exhibited - that a campaign appearance was not exactly conformal and in many ways altered by practicality in the field, whereas on parade some common factor mitigated against a 'rabble' appearance. The biggest problem of course is the lack of evidence for such conformity other than artwork.

Anything that uses the phrase 'martial arts' in connection with Roman history is on dubious ground in my view. However, the possibility that a pankration specialist was used to recruit is an interesting possibility - I have no idea about its authenticity - because my main obection would be that pankration was a greek sport with a limited following in Roman society whose contestants tended to be regarded as athletes, or infama, and quite often slaves themselves. The connection between legions and gladiators is established. There was a commonality between their equipment with a parallel development and we know that on occaision gladiators were used as bodyguards, trainers, and in rare instances military units entirely. However, since the pankration was not identifiably a legionary sport, where's the connection? My guess is that this was an ancient example of celebrity endorsement. They dragged a famous pankrationist to speak out and persuade the impressionable youths to sign up.

I had a dream a while back that had some oddly romanesque qualities to it. Everyone in it was dressed in roman style clothing though the architecture looked more modern. It all got very confused and fraught with people getting pointed out by informers and dragged off to some unpleasant fate. There was a woman who tried to elicit my assistance before she vanished. Wouldn't mind bumping into her - except of course it was all a dream and even if by some strange quirk in the fabric of space-time I was recalling events in a former life, she's long gone.

As I draw ever closer to the day when recording my new album becomes a necessity, so the desire to be ready for it drives me on. I learned to play guitar in my early twenties though I have to confess I was never particularly talented or technically proficient - just good enough to embarass specialist players at my level - especially since I was a drummer by trade. Mostly I just embarassed myself. Nonetheless it's been twenty years since I played guitar anything like seriously, so in order to save myself from further embarrasement, I must practice. Practice makes perfect you see. They say you never really forget a skill once you've learned it. Clearly they've never played guitar. I'm discovering that re-learning the fingering you used to do as a matter of course in your younger days takes a lot of hard work when you're not so young any more. Just ask my neighbours. What makes a comparison between then and now imore difficult is that the emphasis of my guitaring has changed. That definitely is the result of my age. I'll listen to stuff now that I would have ignored back then. There was a pub called the Cornflower which regularly hosted live music. It's still there even if the music isn't, and me and my drinking buddy GS used to pop down on the off chance they were any good. If we saw a tambourine, we left immediately. It was the done thing to do. A local promoter by the name of RK once spoke to us and said that the band on that night were brilliant. He learned something from them every gig. Yeah? Really? GS and I left the premises. The band were okay, sort of, but mostly it was the two extrovert frontmen that kept any real interest while they swung off chandeliers, sat on rafters, and other shenanigans on stage. RK heard my comments on learning nothing from them as I left and that propbably sankl my chances of local success. C'est la vie. On one occaision I got to play the Cornflower myself. This was a semi-pro band called Bardiche which I functioned in as drummer-manager. The gig was the first outing of our new vocalist. It was an important local gig. We needed to impress. So I ordered a light show, PA, and just about anything I could think of to make that vital impression on what I knew was going to be a fickle audience. RK had done the dirty. My PA and light show was cancelled. The night before I managed to secure another PA system but we still had the smoke machine from the council arts department. I instructed JS, our roadie, to switch on and off at my command. He nodded that he understood. That was a mistake. Roadies do not understand. If they did, they would be playing out on stage, not running errands for band members. But I didn't know that then. The gig went underway and we were doing fine. When the moody guitar solo started, I signalled for smoke. JS obligingly thumbed up and thick grey fog exuded from the funnel like the exhalation of some giant fire breathing monster. Realising we were going to set off fire alarms, I signalled JS to stop. He grinned and thumbed up. NO! Stop it you foo;! We got told off. by the pub staff. At least we got paid, even if the audience couldn't see their pints in front of them. I don't ever want to have to rely on stage sets and effects again. Unfortunately that means I have to become proficient at my guitar all over again. Bryan Adams - you have absolutely no idea mate. Sun And Fun of the Week Good grief. It's getting seriously warm out there. We Swindoners aren't adapted for this level of sunshine. There are things I need to do, like searching for gainful employment, or shopping, or practising guitar... But it's sunny out there. Nnnnnnnnn gah! I'm sorry. Temptation is too much. Stop the world, I want to get tanned.

War seems to loomed large on the television screens of late. Not just the tragic deaths of six british servicemen in Afghanistan, or the equally tragic killing spree of an american NCO, or even the revelations of terrible things that happened in the Libyan Revolt or are happening now in the Syrian troubles. It was also wars of times past. The usual war films are playing regularly in the afternoons. Brave british chaps stiffening their upper lips in the north african desert, or americans freezing theirs off in the Ardennes winter. But I've seen all those before. I did see one interesting film, a drama based on a jewish breakout from a death camp based on real events. It looked very realistic as opposed to the often pantomime appearance that production costs often dictate in other films. Then last night I saw the meeting of a british and argentine veteran who were both involved in the same action during the Falklands War. I just knew it was going to get emotional - let's be honest, the programme makers ensured it would be - but there was something very admirable about two men who had tried to kill each other in their youth finally lay their ghosts to rest, if not their political viewpoints, and walk away good friends. It did leave me with a number iof emotions. Sadness for those who died so needlessly and sympathy for those they left behind. Envy for those who can cast aside their past for a better future. But then... back in 1982, neither side actually hated the other. A war of necessity perhaps. A part of me will always believe that hatred is the common enemy. Another Sunny Day Yet another sunny morning to enjoy. Yesterday I wandered around the local park, astonished at the bare earth policy of the grounds keepers who seem determined to reduce the recently opened path around the lake to a representation of a world war one shellshocked landscape. Pigeons, as usual, gathered around any hint of breadcrumbs. Seabirds whirled noisily around the lake waiting to pounce on hint of a pigeon fleeing with more than his fair share. Swans gently floating by here and there, waiting for any hint of that goose they don't like to turn up. Then my attention was drawn to a solitary bumblebee. Quite a rare sight as it happens, bit there it was, silently buzzing from blossom to blossom on the nearby tree. I dunno, sometimes something so insignificant grabs your attention for no apparent reason. It just seeemed to suit the mood. Relaxed, everyone minding their own business, just enjoying another spring day. Chorus Of The Week It appears that my whinging about late night football songs has taken root. I've been informed that on the weekend a bunch of slightly happy inebriated football-philes passed my house with a loud and cheery rendtion of New York, New York, It's a wondeful town.... great to see that some of the locals are trying to raise the cultural level of Swindon to new heights, even if it does require a large slice of Broadway. Sorry I missed the performance guys, but I can't be everywhere at once. Hey - that's show business.