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The gauls fought as pretty much any other iron age tribespeople. They yelled in a bloodcurdling fashion, rushed forward with a sword, and based their attack on intimidation and slicing motion. Don't underestimate the importance of the sword in celtic mythos. Such weapons often carried a mystical status, sometimes even magical, and form a popular sacrifice in water to find favour with the gods. With this sort of peer example, the less bold would nonetheless seek to emulate their heroic and daring warrior leaders in a similar manner, except perhaps as a mass rather than indivuidually. So in battle you would see the braver ones rush forward to attack, retreating again if necessary, but emboldening their colleagues if the attack proves succesful. Now, as to where this Savante comes in, I'm not sure. There's no mention I know of in ancient texts of such a fighting style (have you checked out the Basque angle? - Just a thought) and in all honesty, it does not appear to have been a great influence in medieval times either. Let me suggest however that Svanate might have had an early origin as a deviant form of wrestling/boxing in post-Roman times as the tradition of fighting publicly for sport continues and no longer adheres to the standards set by Rome. That's only my speculation - I would be curious to see if it proves valid. Although the tribes varied in character, Julius Caesar reports that Gauls, Belgae, and Germans all named themselves 'celts'.

In the many news reports I've browsed through lately, I spotted one modest story that Britain is drying up. All this good weather comes at a price which means the lack of rainfall is going to cause the hosepipe bans and frantic questions in the Houses of Parliament. Curiously enough a recent television report showed a reservoir with dwindling water levels. Time to panic? Apparently not. Despite expert advice and lessons of the past, no-one seems particularly interested that our summer might prove as much of a trial as our last winter was. A couple of days ago I strolled through the park as I sometimes do. The water level is indeed very low, lower than I remember it ever being. A flock of confused geese swim slowly back and forth as their former places to launch begging raids on passing human beings are no longer low enough for them to clamber out of the lake. Mind you, the couple of days of rain we had lately have had an astonishing result. The foliage along the yard and the alleyway beyond has veritably exploded into growth. The trees are in full blossom and now overhang the fence, never mind sprouting along the bottom edge, and pushing roots through the tarmac. Thornbushes are sending branches out like Pinocchio's nose under police questioning. Today? Yet another fine day, abeit a bit blustery. The weather map every evening shoes bands of blue assaulting the country in waves. So where is it? The Big Cosmetic Issue Among other reports is an article about which make-up men hate most in their partners. My choice is make-up you notice. Sublety, ladies, sublety.... Please... I promise to close the toilet seat... From The Past - In Colour Like many people I tend to think of former times as essentially black and white, because photographs of those times are invariably without colour. Lately though I stumbled across a collection of colour photo's taken in America during the forties. Interesting stuff. There's a general shabbiness about rural towns with all sorts of stuff piled here and there. Seeing people caught in everyday life makes the period more alive than the sanitised Hollywood version I'm used to. Which brings me to a darker side of that period. Not the war, though the evidence of that period is noticeable by the pictures of training aricraft and posters displaying the latest news from around the world, written in a style that would seem laughable today. No, it was the realisation that some of the pictures depicted the everyday lives of negroes of the time. Free, as citizens, but still very much second class. I looked at the front of a tin shack used as a bar for non-whites, without windows, or indeed without any obvious sign that it was a bar at all apart from a couple of drinks adverts (one of which featured a happy negro waiter I notice). I have no gripe about this period. It was all before my time and America sorts it's own social issues, but nonetheless the oddly third-world squalor was in no doubt.

Yeah? Please send me all your cash if you're going to leave it behind. Waste not, want not....

Caught off guard? They were led deliberately into a prepared ambush by Arminius himself. In any case, the germanic tribes did not inflict any great defeat of the reprisal mission led by Germanicus, nor did they effectively fend him off, preferring to avoid confrontation (I wonder why?) Arguably Germanicus actually achieved very little. However, the Romans were rattled by their failure to colonise and tax-farm the region. Augustus had been given a serious fright and remember he told Tiberius never to attempt the same. The idea that the Romans needed serious resources to conquer or colonise Germania doesn't sound right to me. Most resources would have been obtained locally at no great cost. The whole point to grab whatever cash the german tribes could gather, not to make a commercial loss on the frontier from the planning stage. That Augustus thought the tribes were ready for taxing suggests that development was proceeding to plan, and since the idea was spend money bribing citizens of Rome with games and civic improvement (both of which Augustus boasts of), it's unlikely he would have wasted any cash to begin with. The Augustan Franchise was a sheme by which poor areas were re-vitalised throughout his empire. It had the advantage of occupying some thirty legions of redundant troops left over from the civil wars. It also meant that development was funded by the local economy, not the imperial purse. His whole rationale was to profit from military redundancy and to exploit areas considered less profitable.

Roman logistics were certainly better organised than most others of their era, though I suspect today we would grimace at the poor and corrupt record-keeping, not to mention the interference of civilian merchants who were part of a ruthless and rapacious commercial system, or for that matter, the extent of personal profit from legionaries who sold supplies illicitly. However good or bad it may have been, the Romans did not record what legionaries thought about the supply situation. However we can't discount the possibility that irt fell short of expectation - Evidence from Vindolanda and the hints of Tacitus concerning mutinies suggest military logistics were less reliable than we might expect.

The Gauls are reported as fighting battles in a particular style which doesn't include kicks of this kind. Perhaps the art evolved from wrestling/fighting as sporting contests?

Military credibility had been a part of political life in Roman culture for many centuries befor Antoninus Pius became Caesar. Furthermore, since the title of Roman overlord was that of a former dictator for life with a number of conquests on his achievement list, it therefore follows that Antoninus had little choice but to seek the same military credibility. To prove himself worthy as it were. Emperors often display this attitude, most obviously by Claudius whose invasion of Britain was little more than a massive publicity stunt. Antoninus Pius was not a military man. He never left Italy during his reign, which was considered all the more favourable by Roman elite because he did so little to upset them. The question then is not why an advance into Caledonia was ordered, but at whose instigation? Was it Antoninus who thought up the scheme? Or was it suggested by a senior Roman, either to curry favour with his ruler or perhaps because Antoninus asked him to find him a suitable campaign to cement his status? Or was the commander acting entirely at his own cognizance and attempting to further his career with a campaign initiated at his own initiative? Clearly the Romans were indifferent about their new conquest. Nice farmland it may have been, but like all undeveloped areas, it held little for the Romans to exploit. Their earlier efforts at colonisation of the wilderness had ended in disaster and that lesson wasn't lost on them. One of the major restrictions on Roman expansion was that they were running out of regions with estabnlished settlements and infrastructure. Apart from the Persians I suppose, but then the Persians weren't keen on submitting to Roman rule and were a powerful empire in their right. What we have then is a campaign designed either to hold territory temporarily. Or was it? Since Hadrians Wall was a security boundary more than a national border, we have to accept the possibility that local commanders were reacting to what they perceived as a threat to security on the northern edge of british provinces, much like Israel has conducted temporary invasions and occupations in the modern era to secure boundaries and control hostilities. In order to satisy this question it;s necessary to discovver whether there were any known security threats on the border, or whether this was a show of arms designed to impress the Roman elite, any of whom might have been willing to promote a coup if Caesar showed weakness.

I have not fully understood why the Romans weren't able to do with Germany what they did with Gaul, i.e. romanize them. They didn't Romanize anyone. That's a fallacy. What the Romans did was present latin culture as a package and suggest that things would work better for them if the complied and got along. It was always the choice of the native whether he did things as Romans do. In fairness, the campaigns of Caesar against the Gauls had convinced them that cooperation was a better idea. The Gauls recognised the Romans were stronger and got with the winning team. On the other hand, the Gauls of Caesars day were not the fierce warriors who had sacked Rome and spread across Europe and into Asia Minor. Caesar hints at their lack of warrior credibility in his account of the war, and in fact, the poor performance of his Aedui allies (who preferred not to risk their expensive and beloved horses) forced Caesar to train some of his men as cavalry, before the horse contingent was returned to the standard legion in the Augustan Reforms. The germanic tribes on the other hand did not settle in quite the same way as Gauls. Whereas the gauls had begun to create the skeleton of urban life anyway (and thus were more conducive to the Roman way), germainc tribes were wilder in style. Whereas the Gauls had more or less ceased raiding (other than bullying travellers into paying tolls), the germans continued throughout the existence of the empire. This is something that some Romans sneered at. The Gauls, having agreed to cooperate and discovering the advantages of Roman life, adopted it wholesale. They were not however at the cutting edge of Roman society and being descended from barbarians, a proportion of Roman society would always sneer at them. In fairness, I don't see much of that. Tacitus for instance conserves his venom for the Britons and their clumsy attempts at aping their betters. But not always uncooperative. Remember that Roman foreign policy during the empire was to play one german tribe against another. The persistence of confrontation had more to do with differences in wealth between two cultures. For the germans, the relative bounty of the empire was a permanent temptation. The differences between the two cultures was reinforced by geography - espially the Rhine - but also because both were essentially martial cultures whose warrior pride did not take kindly to surrender of principle. In fact, you might claim with some justification that the Romans actually maintained the germanic tribes as enemies because of their failures in diplomacy but also an unwillingness to treat the tribes with equal status.

My usual Monday ritual begins at the Job Centre. Walk in, pass by the swarm of security guards as they appraise me for terrorist capability, and ascend the steps to my assigned floor where I sit and wait for an interview... And wait... This appears to be the latest wheeze designed to catch me out. No searching the database for vacancies, just sign and go after a long wait. Presumably this will lull me in to a false sense of laziness. "Sorry to keep you waiting." The gentleman said as he led me to his desk. That's okay. I'm getting used to it. Not A Fluffy Add-On Cameron is thumping his fist and telling us all that his vision of a 'Big Society' is not a fluffy add-on. Correct it isn't. It's a slogan, designed to inspire some sort of response from the apathy that is british life. There's a sort of messianic quality to this sort of politics. It becomes a sort of religious sermon. After the disappointments of this weekend I have to ask myself whether politics and religion are any different. Both promise much and fail to deliver. So without any real policies and ideas to make Britain a better place, Cameron tries to get us to do it for him. In fact, I qualify as one of Camerons zombies, rising from the grave to work again. Come to think of it, zombies get a raw deal. I mean, all the films and television shows portray them as evil mindless killers hell bent on world domination. Most of the zombies I know have lost all sense of purpose. Some drift into a very real zombie-hood. Some drift into a dark and mysterious lifestyle that the government agencies hunt down and destroy. Me? I'm still trying to push the coffin lid up through the dirt. After all, I'm not a fluffy add-on either, despite the opinions of some zombies in my area. I have accrued years of experience of groaning and smelling badly in public places. But you see, in this cut throat world of cataclysmic change, it's the fluffy add-on security blanket that people want and need. Jesus Is A No-Show Hands up anyone who got raptured this weekend?... No, not sex with the missus, I mean vanishing into thin air leaving behind all your worldly goods. No-one? No-one at all? They say you shouldn't mock the afflicted. My horoscope for today says I'm putting other peoples needs to the fore, and that I should waste no more time with dogs barking up the wrong tree. I'd be happy to if they'd stop barking at me.

That's because they didn't have much in the first place. The Romans generally felt that Germania wasn't worth conquering. It was relatively backward and poor. Not a whole lot of plunder or money there. The Romans were colonising germanic forests, not conquering them. Evidence has come to light of Roman towns much further beyond the Rhine than previously considered, abandoned after Arminius led an uprising. So in fact, the Romans had every reason to maintain control of the area and with other regions including mainland Europe, Augustus was revialising the declining parts of the empire by rwe-colonisation. In any case, the assignment of Varus is a fairly obvious attempt to accrue as much tax revenue as possible. He was sent there by Augustus for that purpose. Turning Rome into marble wasn't cheap.

Ah yes... The scene in Douglas Adams Hitchhikers Guide To The Galaxy where Ford Prefect entices Arthur Dent away from saving his cottage from demolition and down to the local pub for an emergency last beverage before stowing away on a passing Vogon Destructor Fleet. For those of you who haven't read my last entry (shame on you), May 21st is Vogon Demolition Day. That's today. yes, it's the end of the world. So I recommend everyone pops down the pub and thumbs for a lift from any UFO's in the neighbourhood. Douglas Adams instructions for survivng the end of the world are quite clear on the procedure. Mind you, if you haven't made friends with that annoying wierdo over the last few years don't blame me if you can't find a seat to another planet. On the down side, it is a saturday, so getting to the bar might be difficult if you leave it to the last minute. Don't worry about your home. If the Vogons don't obliterate it I'm sure some natural disaster will while you're out, and I do see their are people taking this warning seriously by quitting their jobs in expectation of the final day. Quite a nice for it, really... It Is Written It's kind of funny how people so easily believe things. Like hordes of Americans fleeing to the hiolls in 1938 because Orson Wells broadcast a version of War of the Worlds on radio. There are people who believe Dan Browns books are documentaries about real life. Or that a fictional prop is actually the Cup of the Last Supper. Or that Hitler is still alive in Argentina. Or that the CIA are responsible for world terrorism. Or that modern hatchbacks are fun to drive. We believe these things because we're easily fooled. Not me of course. I'm much more sensible. So if you'll excuse me, I want to get revenge on the world by finding Saurons One Ring from the bottom of the River Danube. No really. Tolkien based his stories on real life history. No , he did... He really did... Mind you, given today is Big Earthquake Day (boy, am I going to look dumb if it actually is!), I think I'd better not delay. See you later, hapless minions...

It didn't stop Rome in its tracks - it forced a retreat. But do bear in mind why the Romans were there. The occupation of territory across the Rhine wasn't about territorial conquest or the glory of Rome - it was about cash. Augustus sent a man known to be greedy to collect taxes. The German tribes didn't like it and you could in fact see the Germanic/Roman relationship from that point on as not so much a cultural conflict, but more a contest about wealth. I'm not sure I would exactly, but the motives for conflict on both sides were almost always revenue related.

I have no idea if Vegetius was right about the balearics inveting slings (I suspect they didn't - the use was very widespread in very ancient times). I do however accept the balearics were pretty good at. However, the interesting thing is that 'recruits' (an undefined term here but one referring to Roman employment I presume) are taught to use them. What we have in essence is troops employed by the Romans as slingers, and anyone seeking to join these allies who doesn't actually know how to use a sling is brought up to speed either by official command or by their colleagues - probably a bit of both. Although it's tempting to think of the Romans as using training techniques familiar to us as a matter of course, somehow that doesn't fit the general picture. vegetius was after trying to accentuate the idea that such training was necessary (it was, in his day, desperately) and thus exaggerates the point.

Another reason for the differences is that it suited the patron of whichever revision was made. After all, the earliest Bible was no more than a censored and authorised collection of existing books which may or may not have had any degree of provenance. One might ask why the original versions of the Bible weren't unified and written as a coherent whole. In my view, this was done to avoid debates such as we're having here. You see, if the texts are collected and bundled together, the tale is coloured by viewpoint and attempts to create the illusion of truthfulness. Since it was the Council of Nicaea in 325 that decided what was or wasn't heresy (give or take the odd debate) we can point to the attempted unification of christian belief in the reign of Constantine as the major impetus behind constructing the biblical 'integrity'. However, as mentioned above, the water is muddy.

Oh look. It's the end of the world again. Someone has worked out by complicated mathematical formulae based on a date arrived at by a medieval monk (no doubt according to complex mathematical formulae too) that the end of the world takes place on May 21st. So if anyone fancies the pretty girl in the office and never had the courage to make a pass, better get a move on. Time is running out. Joking aside though, how you would you spend your last 24 hours on earth? This subject came up with the guy running the job club this afternoon, which is why I discovered the world was ending. Ignorance is bliss it seems. Anyway, I went into my usual denounciations of idiocy and dishonesty regarding predictions from religious sources. "Chill, man..." He said in his laid back East Indies style, "Go somewhere, do something, spend your money and have a great time..." Yes, but that's you. Your character. Not everyone would want to party the rest of their life away. "Why? Why wouldn't they want to enjoy their last day?" Because some people would want to come to terms with their existence ending tomorrow. "Nah." He replied. "No time for that." Never mind, it's all round to Mr J's house for partying on down until the world suffers an earthquake of biblical proportions and the universe catches fire. Hey, that's what the prediction is. Don't blame me if the party ends like an episode of Thunderbirds. "Nah. I ain't got any money in the bank anyhow." People never learn, do they? Ever since mankind discovered religion and learned how to preach, the end of the world was going to happen tomorrow. Except, as we all know, tomorrow never comes. So anyone waiting for the Rapture will just have to wait a bit longer. And the only Tribulation I'm going to get is more bills and red tape. What is the point of making a successful prediction for the End of the World? I mean, saying 'I told you so' is a waste of time if no-one is left alive to get irritated about it. You can't become rich and famous when the universe goes up in smoke, the dead rise, and Jesus invites the meek to bail out. Hang on a minute... Didn't Jesus say the meek would inherit the Earth? Inherit what? A post-apocalyptic ruin of a world in a universe made of charcoal? But why am I worrying? A recent study suggests half the bible is a forgery anyway. With a bit of luck, I'll be in the half of the universe that doesn't end in disaster. That said, I live in Swindon. The odds are not good. The New World Astronomers are claiming they've discovered a habitable world twenty light years away. As holiday destinations go, it might not be the best. The journey time is going to be somewhat excessive (once in a lifetime visit and return tickets extra), and although the world should be on the cold side, the proportion of carbon dioxide in the atmosphere calls for very, very warm experience. If that wasn't enough, the gravity is about twice as strong as ours, so falling over drunk is twice as likely to get you into Accident & Emergency. But why bother? The universe is going to burn up in a day or two so we're told. So unless you had the foresight to build your own interstellar ark by now, you might as well cancel your holiday plans. Another Alien Invasion I've been warned that aliens are descending on north Swindon shortly. No, that's not some crackpot prediction made by complex mathematical forumlae, but a news item from a charity that mounts these invasions to raise money for good causes. Which is pretty much the excuse used for all invasions since the dawn of Dr Who. I wish the Daleks well in their attempt to exterminate North Swindon and hope it raises oodles of cash for the good cause.

It would be, except that the term 'German' was invented by the Romans as a term describing certain tribes as a group. The modern national identity didn't exist back then - Arminius had to bring the tribes together to cooperate against the Romans and the underlying differences still existed, especially since there was no significant germanic union until the 'barbarian conspiracy' of later times, and even that was only a temporary cooperation.

Today is newspaper day. I have to really because the job pages are printed every thursday. Once upon a time there used to be three pages stuffed with adverts for this or that opportunity of a lifetime. These days there's a page of timid adverts costing the bare minimum, and almost invariably outside of my travelling range. Well that part of jobsearch didn't take long. So what else I have got for my forty pence? More efforts to reduce speeding motorists. In fairness, Swindon took a bold step by stopping the speed camera nonsense and generate income from parking charges instead, which has apparently netted the council millions of pounds in the last few years. So although the accident rate has not gone up again as critics predicted, the council have decided that we need to stop the speeding motorist. They're setting up traffic lights that go to red if a car is detected approaching at a higher speed than allowed. Go too fast and wait for longer as it were. Do I sound critical? Actually I think it's a clever way to stop speeders. The thing is though the council are claiming that if people learn to keep to speed limits then they'll travel through junctions with less delay. Truth is, we won't, because some idiot will speed and set off the red light embargo on movement. But isn't that the plan? To make speeding socially unacceptable instead of being attractively naughty? Sneaky... Very sneaky... My Fridge Is Gone When the two chaps from the department store delivered my fridge I got them to manhandle the old on downstairs, which they did with cheery enthusiam. In a quick discussion on recycling, one did mention that left in my front yard, it would probably vanish onto a gypsy flatbed. Yep,. Notice my confidence at leaving it there. And we were both right. Some time yesterday afternoon the old fridge vanished. The least they could have done was take away the unwanted polystyrene packaging too. Run For It Cancer has become something of a modern bugbear. In Britain, we have a women-only event called Run For Life or something similar. Last night though I saw a television appeal for people to take part. It seems fewer and fewer women are running in this charity event. I was going to make a wisecrack, but perhaps that would be a little uncouth and callous.

Why? You can have in the house an area for live shows and play R:TW in the backyard with real soldiers! Yes, but as a paranoid leader of the roman state I would want to keep a close eye on my emails, and to be honest, if I want Total War in the flesh, why not invade another barbarian country? Plenty out there on the frontier.

The terror was incidential in the case of the Spartacus War. The famous rebel gladiator was not actually waging war on the Roman state as such (he was not fighting for freedom as usually thought), nor did he set out to terrorise the Roman state by design, but taking advantage of his popularity among the downtrodden classes to pursue a life as a bandit, something he started immediately upon escape as the sources relate that local folk tried to stop him raiding from his camp on Vesuvius and had to call in the military by complaints. In fact, rather than attempting to intimdate the Romans, which terrorism would have entailed, he was rather more preoccupied with staying ahead of the legions sent after him following his initial successes at fending them off. His campaign was therefore initially opportunistic, then evolving into evasion. At no time did he mount anything we would consider a terrorist attack.

About time, I say. Congratulations to the authors for trying at least.

A little while ago I bumped into a guy who was involved in battlefield re-enactment. There's a few of them around - this isn't the first time I've encountered re-enactors. Dressing up in historical costumes and pretending to fight? Isn;'t that a little sad? Well... That depends on your viewpoint. Re-enactment is after all a practical study of how people conducted themselves in times gone by and for that matter they sometimes get heavily involved in historical research. In an era when the written word is no longer enough, such a visual representation of real events might not be entirely 100% accurate, but it certainly conveys the imagery and who knows? If it inspires youngsters to stop daubing walls with spray paint, isn't that a good cause? Anyhow, I had a fantastic conversation about things military and learned a few things from him. Compare that with a chap I spoke to once before. He made some comment about the Romans being the best soldiers ever - an idea I couldn't allow to go unchallenged - and immediately spotting my military surplus trousers the off-duty soldier dismissed me with "Come back when you've done something." In the news this morning is a piece about the inquest into an incident in Afghanistan, where a rogue policeman attacked a squad of british soldiers. This policeman used automatic weapons on his supposed allies and perhaps not suprisingly, the story focuses on how one soldier was hit and played dead. It would be very easy to point a finger and claim that the soldier playing dead was not entirely heroic. I do recognise that he was in a dangerous situation and without the means to effectively combat his enemy, his survival instinct proved stronger than foolhardiness. I don't actually blame him for that despite the current era of Cameron's Heroes, a status which I notice some servicement are starting to enjoy. As for my military surplus trousers, they're on sale in the high street. I have no guilt or fantasies about them. As for the soldier who sneered, come back when you've learned something. As for Cameron's insistence of heroism, yes, some of them are, in a very real sense. Reward the heroes please, not the 'also-rans' in their wake. There's nothing worse than a uniform that expects hero worship, especially when some of those wearing it are behaving disrespectfully toward the very people they want respect from. Why Was Wonder Woman Wasted? Now there's an alliterative heading. Another news item tells me that a remake of Wonder Woman has been axed. Anyone who saw the original with Lynda Carter either would probably wonder why anyone would feel the need to destroy their own careers with it. Thing is, I know that throughout history there have been women who were at the forefront of military action. I recall an indian woman who led her tribe to success against their rivals. A female samurai who was genuinely feared by male colleagues. A lady who took to the life of a knight in the middle ages. Boudicca screaming revenge as her chariot charges pell-mell toward the roman legions. And so forth. How easy is it for an actress, however athletic and blessed with attractive curves, to really suggest a woman who lives by violence? The only option is to put her in a skimpy costume and give her lots of wisecracks. But then, it all gets a bit moribund very quickly. Extremely quickly in this case, having dropped the series before it was made.

Further to Maty#s answer, and to reiterate my own, the ancient battlefield may have been a terrifying place at times, but you generally fought together, as a closely packed herd. There's a measure of reassurance in that. What Roman soldiers didn't have to cope with was the constant threat of anonymous firearm attacks, random explosions. I was going to add having to cope with death, injury, and risk, often without majority assistance, but of course that's blatant nonsense having remembered Marcellimus's discussion about what you would have seen on the field of Adrianople - a very personal view, yet one borrowed from elsewhere, because Ammanius marcelinus had indeed seen perilous miltary action, he had done so under the Western Empire against the Franks, not the Goths in the east. There is a curious feature of battlefield experience linked to this. Despite training, skill, discipline, and protection, there's no doubt that the typical ancient warrior would have witnessed and suffered horrendous injuries as the opposing warrior is hacked to bits (or stabbed - the preferred method of the aspiring legionary). Iron Age battles were apparently even worse for the lack of protective armour. Archaeology reveals many young men with serious injuries received and survived. It seems then that a part of human psychology adapts to the necessity of violence. Whether we like inflicting harm and risking it, the need to fight is a basic instinct and one behavioural style we can choose for better or worse. Therefore we have a natural ability to cope with what would seem to be a nightmare of sharp blades and their use. On the other hand, the changes in the nature of combat since have not found a suitable niche in our biologiccal support mechanisms, although the same attitudes and behaviours still form the basis of this activity. Some people are of course more prone to stress conditions than others.

This morning my doctor called me in for a decision on what to do about my health. Apparently if I was 65 or older he wouldn't bother (Heck, I'd probably die of old age anyway) but since I'm such a young man, he'll presribe these very special radioactive kryptonite pills. I kid you not, the little card box vibrates with strange power all by itself. Reading the instructions is an eye-opener. Some people aren't affected, but the side effects are headaches, tiredness, nausea, and so forth. Unless of course I'm in a smaller band of the population that are allergic to kryptonite, in which case I might suffer swollen facial features, strange skin colourations, a slight inability to father children, and freqent emptying of my digestive system from either end. Oh what fun. If I'm very unlucky I become a hermaphrodite and suffer a loss of skin as it blisters and peels off. That's not a joke - the manual says all of this stuff. It wouldn't suprise me if I was at risk of self combusting. But hey, it'll fix my health problem no problem at all. My New Cool Friend The fridge is officially replaced. The old dead one is discarded, left to the elements and whichever gypsy fancies making a few quid on it. I care nothing for it, for I now have a fresh newly constructed fridge in spotless white metal and plastic. I must say the chaps who delivered it were very helpful and cheery as they manhandled heavy metal boxes up and down my restricted width stairs. Well done chaps. A credit to your employer. It is interesting because I had a recent discussion with one of my employment trainers. She's a biker, a serious one, and I enquired why she took up motorbiking. Actually she never really answered the question, but our conversation got around to men hanging on to a motorbike for years while women regularly change them, and that the exact opposite happens with shoes. She has a point. Men do form relationships with machines. Mostly I suspect because they don't nag or throw tantrums, becing generally obedient inaminate objects. Probably why blokes buy sex dummies I guess. Well, I now have a cool new friend. Nice fridge... Hmmmm....

Among the swathes of destruction wreaked by mother nature recently, America is not denied its fair share of it. That much I can see in the news, although in fairness what it must be like to suffer floods and tornado's is thankfully beyond my experience. I wonder if all this damage to peoples lives is making Americans seek a life elsewhere? I ask that question because of late I've noticed an increasing number of americans in Swindon. For instance, there was the chap who glanced at me in a sort of curious appraisal as he set about walking his dog. He did look somehow detached in his manner, a sort of wariness about ordinary day to day living, something hard to explain unless you witness it. In fact I only knew he was american because his dog took a dislike to one owned by a local and he spoke to chap quite calmly as both dogs prepared for a life or death struggle for honour, tree-trunks, and the right to sniff butts. There is of course the jovial young american I know from the museum team. He's just got a job at a golf course. It's like Chevvy Chase made real. Nightmare. A couple of days ago I wandered up the hill for some fish and chips. That's becoming a rare delicacy to be savoured now that food prices are rising inexorably. So instead of the more usual cod, a fish almost cooked into extinction and almost the cause of a war between us and Iceland in decades past, I decided instead to order haddock. Not so tasty, but cheaper and less damaging to my conciense in these eco-friendly times. I waited in the queue as the american in front of me struggled with Hong Kong accents. Don't get embarrased mate, we all struggle with that. All part of British society. Eventually he took the meal, seeming a little suspicious that in some way he wasn't the victim of some kind of fiendish oriental ruse to extract more money than he thought was correct. That too is part of british society, my friend. Ordering My Chips Whilst I sympathised at his difficulties in negotiating the hazards of a chinese takeaway, I took a fdeep breath and plunged in with the confidence that years of practice give you. haddock and chips please. "Chips?" No, haddock and chips. "One pound forty." One pound forty? That's astonishingly cheap! Oh hang, he's only serving me with chips. Erm.. Excuse me?... I asked for haddock and chips? "Hadd..." Ha-ddock-and-chips. Haaaa-ddddddockkkk. "Haddock?" Yes mate. It's a fish you have on your menu. Looks like cod but tastes cheaper. "Haddock and chips?" Yes! I knew shouting louder would solve the problem. It's the british way. Emotional State Quite by chance I found myself assisting a lady of east european extraction with her computer programming. It's probably best not rto ask why, just that these situations occur sometimes. She was having a problem with little bitmaps and inevitably I started making humorous quips. Those who know me in the flesh will understand that my sense of humour is a test of patience for everyone else. However, she did seem amused. That, in retrospect, was probably a bad move, because if someone laughs at my jokes it only encourages me further. Eventually she could handle no more. It was a choice between computer programming and hysterics. "Please stop" She asked, "You are affecting my emotional state" Yeah? Rock on. I've had half a glass of wine this evening andit's only fair to warn you I'm a little out of control. Disaster of the Week My fridge has blown up. Obviously my car was its only friend and now the car is stolen, my fridge committed suicide in despair at facing life with only my jokes for company.

Before the Marian Reforms, there was no standing army at all. If you wanted to fight in the legions you would have to wait for war to break out, when a levy was called for (that's what the word legion means) and a legion formed traditionally for one year, or more likely, the duration of hostilities. A place was announced and volunteers would head their. What follows was a long winded selectioon parade in which each man was chosen individually rather like kids choosing betweeb their mates in turn for a game of football. Each man had to swear an oath of service too. There is a description of the procedure in the sources which I wrote up on these forums before, but I can't find it. With regard to later legionary recruitment, this was done according to need. Of course there was probably no reason why you couldn't knock on the door of the nearest fort and ask to be be enlisted, but apparently recruitment details were sent to find suitable youths in settlements, often at some distance from the legion. Recruits were given a modest amnount of spending money and escorted to the fort by experienced legionaries. I don't know of any mention of recruitment officers stationed at forums, but it might have happened, although they wouldn't need a huge logbook since they were sending people off in small numbers. In the late empire, we see some dodgy practises emerging where people were recruited against their will, either by force or ruse. There were still volunteers in this period of course - young men are naturally prone to seeking violent lifestyles.