caldrail

It was a conquest too far, for two reasons. Firstly the north of England was not entirely secure thus occupying Caledonia was always going to logistically risky. Secondly, Tacitus claims that Caledonia was conquered because Agricola was a relation of his and wants to enlarge on his achievements. Furthermore, a succesful general returning to a triumph in Rome was a threat to Domitians popularity, thus the conquest was abandoned on political grounds.

By that logic you could include Sulla as well. The main reason for me to disagree with you (and Suetonius) is the fact that Caesar spend most of his rule fighting for control over the Roman state and the time between the victory in the civil war to his assassination was too short to have a real affect of the work of the Roman state. In the end, just like it was with Sulla, after his death the state return to square one and the old battles between the nobility return as well. A disagreement? Oh no... Seriously though there is a difference, and Sulla fails to qualify for the emperor club because although he was for a while an autocratic ruler of Rome, he was not given the role for life. Since Suetonius was referring to 'Caesars' rather than 'emperor' (Our word, not theirs), it was not possible for Sulla to have become Caesar before Gaius Julius set the precedent. You could argue that Sulla had set a previous precedent. Okay, in a way he did, but bear in mind Sulla apparently had no long term intention to rulke Rome once he had put it back on its feet, at least as he saw it. There was no sense of ownership in his initiative however rebellious and tyrannical it may have been. Instead, it was Gaius Julius and his successors who took possession of the empire without any intention of letting go of power.

All weekend the library computers weren't working properly. What a disaster. it seems the whole community is utterly dependent on the facility and hordes of disappointed library-goers left the building despondently for two days, including me, aklthough in fairness I was a bit angrier than most. When the problem emerged on the saturday morning, it was my least favourite librarian on duty. He makes a big show of trying to be helpful, but when you actually ask him for help, the answer is always the same. He doesn't know. Aaaargh! The man is such a transparent waster. And on saturday morning, he was hovering over me as I frantically tried to log in, hoping for another chance to demonstrate his willingness to assist customers. No, I'm sorry, I'm not giving him another excuse to tell me he can't help. Sunday was a brief visit. The lady on duty looked confused and helpless as she apologised to those of us who had trudged upstairs. Still not working? Nope. Right, I'm off, before that oaf makes an appearance and tries to tell me he can't help. Now it's monday morning. To be honest, I didn't hold out much hope of logging on today. Instead, I went upstairs and immediately sat down to read magazines. The librarian on the desk gave me a cheery greeting. Eh? What's going on here then? She even made an effort to alert those of us who had bothered to turn up that the computers were working again. But then, she probably knows how to help customers. To Rain Or Not To Rain? Today is one of those days where you never quite know if you're going to get a soaking, and probably you will because you'll eventually shrug and go out without any weather protection. The sky is obscured by a a pale layer of cloud, backlit by a creamy glow from my vantage point, beneath which ragged dark grey clouds drift ominously past. Will Cladrail get wet today? Stay tuned for updates, on the hour, every hour, unless you've better things to do like shopping, taxiing the kids around, bonking the missus, or shouting on the street outside my home. Oh there are times when I really do wish it would rain...

In terms of British experience, to which the phrase 'Dark Age' actually belongs, times were indeed quite tough in some respects. On the one hand, agriculture was set back on its heels by the collapse of markets and the villa system, and it took hundreds of years (with some disasters along the way) for rural prosperity to return. The balkanisation of the british isles did the region no favours with foreign tribes looking at the fertile farmland and wealthy christian centres somewhat avariciously. The problem is that we assume the Dark Ages were uniformly bad. That's a false assumption because we know from Gildas and others that fortunes for the british waxed and waned. Yet the dark age record shows a civic, economic, and political restoration inprogress throughout the period, set back only by the arrival of hostile forces and weak leadership. In theory the balkanisation of Britain, the breakup of the sub-Roman world into warring petty kingdoms, came to an end with Ecbert's domination of the kingdoms in the early ninth century. Athelstan reasserted the english throne (and some claim he was the first king of England, which conveniently ignores that fact that the other english kingdoms had accepted Wessex as overlords since Mercian power was destroyed in the wake of the Battle of Ellandun). During this period we have a series of lawmakers, Ine and Alfred in particular, both of whom followed Constantinian principles in underpinning their edicts with Christian affiliation, and although the isles were effectively recolonised by catholic missionaries we mustn't forget that irish christianity was already strong and exporting it's beliefs to the continent.. We see farming becoming more productive, more profitable, and architecture evolving in sophistication and scope. We see the english navy becoming a national institution for the first time, helping to safeguard coastlines and trade routes against pirates or raiders, and in case, we know that travel to and from the continent was a regular and apparently trouble-free event. Was the medieval world moribund? Certainly not. Okay, it had bad times, but then the classical period wasn't always sweetness and light. Now I would agree it was largely a time of ignorance and violence, but that was the nature of society back then and since when was the ancient world entirely a safe place? The fact remains it was the medieval period that saw western europe drag itself back to prosperity - and lets not forget - the Renaissance didn't happen out of thin air.

There seems to be a fashion for describing ancient armies in modern terms right now. That's not something I recommend because it introduces concepts and ideas that are anachronistic and unrealised by people in classical history. Personally I think imposing modern concepts and behaviour on classical times is one of the worst mistakes you make. Multifunctional? What exactly is an army used for? To defeat opposing armies, conquer territory, and keep the peace afterward. In what way were the Assinians different? Rapid deployment? That was an alien concept in classical times. Certainly getting somewhere before the enemy was a useful idea and one often employed, but essentially your army moved at two speeds - march and forced march. In general, cavalry kept pace with infantry because they needed to remain part of the whole and in any case, horses are not machines and get tired too if ridden at the trot or gallop excessively. In what way was rapid deployment facilitated? The Assinians went places as fast as anyone else could. Assault Chariots - Chariots are not tanks. They do not 'assault' the enemy. The idea of a chariot is a fast moving vehicle for throwing missiles and intimidating the enemy. One at a standstill, the chariot is all but useless. Chariots attack by riding along a side of an enemy unit, forcing the troops back in the same way a cavalry charge threatens their well-being, and in the case of those chariots fitted with scythes, to take out a number of troops too slow to get out of the way. In other words, chariots mount harassing attacks, not assaults. Psychological Warfare - The ancients had no psychologists to advise their leaders and thus using the term is giving the Assinians techniques they never had any idea of. That doesn't mean they didn't try to reduce the enemy morale by one means or another, but that tactic was in common use anyway. Army leaders everywhere were well aware of the necessity to maintain morale, and how vulnerable an opposing army could be if their morale suffered. Incendiary weapons - Fire has been a factor in warfare since mankind invented it. Granted the use of substances to incite conflagrations was rare as opposed to the direct use of fire, but that depended on there being people who had discovered that technique among them - it wasn't a cultural phenomenon. The Romans have a reputation for being 'a military machine'. I used to say the same things, but that's a rather impersonal and mechanisrtic view of their campaigning. Granted they were better organised than many other forces but to see them as utterly efficient and obedient is no more than a fantasy. They were anything but. In fact, the legions were in some respects a necessary evil in Roman society and the Romans themselves hint at that attitude. Without strong leadership the legions quickly devolved to little more than an armed rabble. If you study their command structure closely, you will see that the obedience of the Roman legion depended more on social superiority than military authority, although a few lashes of a vinestaff usually kept order when the politician leading the legion found troublemakers among his warriors. There are some that will argue that there's no functional difference between fighting now and then. That's an idea that relies utterly on emphasing the similarities between era's and ignoring the differences. The Roman legions may have been better organised than other military factions of the time, but they were essentially doing exactly the same things as their opponents albeit in a different style.

What would you do with a lottery win? With several million pounds in your wallet? I've heard this question asked time and time again. Many people actually tell me they want to be generous and give everyone they like a huge wad of the winnings. Perhaps, but I'm a little too cynical to believe I'm that likeable. Anyhow, Young L, the museums resident football player, was discussing that very question today with the backroom crew. His preferred course of action is to buy a Bowler Wildcat (for those unacquainted with Top Gear, the Bowler Wildcat is a high performance dirt racer). His little eyes glazed over at the thought of it. Bless. I guffawed and told he'll sell it a week afterward. "No no no" he insisted, "it'll outperform a porsche turbo. A hundred and sixty five miles an hour top speed, way cool, gotta have one!" Which is all very true, but where can you actually drive at a hundred and sixty miles an hour these days? Out-accelerating porsche turbo's at the lights isn't going to impress the police either. "Yeah, but you just leave them behind" He dribbled with adolescent glee. He's probably right, but unfortunately the police are somewhat more organised than that, communicate with each other by radio, and if all else fails knock on your front door the following day. Young L began to realise the idiocy of his chosen fantasy vehicle. I further crushed his ambition by pointing out it wasn't a practical road vehicle anyway. Of course when I was younger I had similar tendencies, mostly involving ferrari's, but then I didn't listen to anyone. As for young L, I do hope he doesn't win the lottery. I can't bear the thought of all the other museum staff driving around in Bowler Wildcats. Window Shopping I wonder how many times you've ever passed a shop window and seen something unusual? That happened the other day. In the shop front of a shopping centre premises was a full set of Roman legionary armour, tunic, and shield, tastefully displayed on a tailors dummy more accustomed to razor sharp suits in the latest styles.. Wow. You don't see that every day. Would I buy it? Well, I'll be honest, there's a part of me that would, just for a wheeze. Thankfully on this occaision commonsense prevailed and I carried on about my business. However, just in case you thought I was going to be completely sensible, the local pawnbrokers shop was further down the road. Usually I don't spare it a second glance, but that electric blue guitar caught my eye. Fatal. No, you can't afford it, Caldrail. Cheap price or not, it's an expensive luxury and you can't afford it. Or maybe I can? maybe there's some way of digging enough cash out of my wallet to let that guitar become my property... Some day, it will be mine... Oh yes... Five minutes later I harassed the staff to let me inspect the instrument. Looks okay to me. Here. Here you go. Here's my life savings. "Ooooh" Said the lady behind the desk in suprise as she placed the guitar on the counter, "This is a heavy one!" Stop talking and do more selling please. Finally our financial transaction was done. I wiped the sweat from my forehead and asked if she had a paper bag I could put it in. And it wasn't even April Fools Day! I had to stop her fruitless search behind the counter. Bless. As it happens it turns out to be something of a bargain. Good condition, full bodied tone, plays well, and mine for a third of the recommended retail price. I have become a musical bigamist. Sell this little beauty the week afterward? Oh no.... No no no... Hmmmmm....

The hot topic in Swindon right now is lamposts. The new ones are installed and shining brightly at night already, and as I speak the old ones are being felled like dead trees. It doesn't stop there. I was strolling along the canal walkway that heads north out of the town centre and on toward a trading estate where I intended to spend a few pence on replacing some broken tools. A couple of workmen were spraying the posts with aerosols. Usually that job is left to youths in hoodies, but I guess this was the opposite job, getting rid of the colourful squiggles the teenagers leave behind to mark their territory. I've not seen people doing that before, I mentioned to the nearest workman as I passed by. "It's new for us, too!" He smiled back. How about that? Swindon's brave new world. Rows of bright shiney lamposts as a beacon toward or communal future. Makes you feel good to be alive. Noisy Old Swindon Last night I noticed the rain was drenching our area. Could be a quiet night then? I mean, if the rain was pouring down, surely the noisy element will be safely locked away indoors? In any case, there's something genuinely therapeutic about listening to rainfall. It's a soothing sound, it really is, especially when the mood is less excitable. So I left the window open as I turned in for the night. Ahh yes... Now I'm going to sleep well. HEY!" Yelled someone outside. Okay, maybe I won't be sleeping well tonight.

Not in Vegetius's day it wasn't. That gentleman was well aware of the deficiencies of the late empire armies and wrote a manual describing all the things the Romans ought to be doing, based on his appraisal of activities that various legions had done here and there. De Re Militaris is often used as a model of the Roman legions but it represents nothing of the sort, and in fact, distorts the true picture of how the legions behaved because it includes all the best bits lumped together. Discipline is another case. It was harsh, no question, but this was out of necessity, because in the first place the ROmans recruited virile tough men by preference, secondly that these men were hard to control, being superstitous and naturally unruly, and thirdly because it suited the somewhat brutish command structure of the legion. When properly applied the legions behaved valiently on the battlefield, but if that leash was lengthened at all for any reason the poor behaviour of Roman legionaries soon made itself apparent. The way you describe organisation shjows a clear desire to see a sort of perfection about the Roman legions. This is quite common, but illusory, because I don't believe the Romans used the same pyramid system we do today, nor was it as coherent as you imagine. I've done a number of posts on this subject, so I won't go into detail, but basically it appears under close examination that the Roman system was much rougher and readier than we might assume. Everything revolves around the centurion - he is taking on the role of a war chief of a small raiding band, albeit in a formalised manner. When the ROmans managed events to their own advantage, the Roman system usually worked well enough. Put them under pressure or in a chaotic ambush situation, the much vaunted Roman command system collapses like a house of cards. As for logistics, it worked because the Romans tried to do without it as much as possible. They didn't want to be tied down to vulnerable baggage trains. It may be the case that Roman legionaries marched further than their modern counterpart in most cases, but bear in mind this also affected their battle readiness. You cannot march long distances with heavy loads and expect to as fighting fit as your opponent, and indeed, part of the disgruntlement that led to serious mutinies in Germania and Pannonia was the ill-effect of such a ifestyle. Beware of the supposed professionalism of Roman legions. That has modern connatations that don't apply to the Romans. I agree the legions were 'professional' in that a man volunteered for twenty five years service and thus became an indentured warrior by vocation, but don't expand this to include modern professional behaviour, which was identifiably lacking in among the Romans.

But that's just it - they weren't guerillas - the phrase is anachronistic when discussing the Roman period because it refers to a style of warfare at odds with conventional warfare. In Roman times, the legions were unconventional in that they were organised in a formal manner and their supposedly 'guerilla' opponents were doing no more than mounting raids as everyone else did, and even the Romans did that in their earliest days. The whole idea of ancient 'guerilla' warfare is no more than foisting modern terms and conditions upon the ancient world.

Our recent spell of sunny weather seems to be coming to an end. Showery old Swindon is a little damper today, here and there, usually when I step outside the house. I have to say that today has not been a special day in any sense whatsoever. For the pidgeons on the balcony outside the library, I guess it must seem a bit different. I've just watched two of them having sex in plain view from my vantage point at the computer. The victorians used to believe that mankind was the crowning glory of gods creation. I'm not ascribing to that view, given that human beings are perfectly capable of procreating without divine finger clicking, but I have to say that as a species, we do seem to have made one fundamental achievement in that we've managed to make sex interesting. And so interesting in fact, that some of us like to watch it happen as much as actuially doing it, or in some cases, as the only alternative to rejection. One of my colleagues has just dumped his girlfriend, becoming engaged to another woman the week after. Call me suspicious, but I do suspect that my colleague was enjoying rather more sex than the typical victorian would have approved of. As for the poor lady so rejected, I did happen to pass her by the day she got the bad news. I didn't know about it, so her refusal to talk to me was a bit baffling although in fairness her emotional distress really ought to have clued me in. Now the rejected lady is almost glued to another male colleague at the museum. That didn't take long. Update On Pidgeon Sex It's over, it's all over, the male bird has hopped away. We'll probably have a video replay of that later, but for anyone who is unable to stop their eyes from blinking, there really wasn't much to see. Call Of The Wild I remember our old dog one night, lying down asleep as he usually did on the flagstones by the fireplace. We heard the owner of another dog pass by outside. Almost immediately, our dog became alert, sniffing the air, and let out the most mournful howl I've ever heard. That's how dogs say "Wow, you're gorgeous, can I sniff your bum?" I guess the wolves are better at it.

Spartacus was a criminal trained to fight as a gladiator. He rebelled and escaped along with two other nominated leaders before his appearance in the arena (shortly before if the convenient discovery of gladiatorial weapons in a wagon has any truth). He therefore never did fight in the arena, and notably, the Romasn sources have never mentioned his score or career as a gladiator.

I think the basic problem with this thread is the phrase 'guerilla', which is technically being used out of context. The ancients didn't have the same definitions and categories as we do, and for that reason we tend to assign the Romans as a regular army against, say, a barbarian guerilla force, which is not the differentiation the Romans would have made. The term 'guerilla' warfare refers to harrasement of conventional forces by irregulars. This involves not only direct action such as ambush, but indirect attacks on supply lines and facilities. Here the Roman world is somewhat different from our own. Although the legions were very strong on logistics, these supply lines were for the most part between fixed sites such as forts, whilst legions on the march either made do with rations or foraged for what they needed, because logistics in Roman times wasn't up to the job of tracking and supllying mobile forces. In any case, the legions were more self sufficient than that. One of their strengths was the hiring of tradesmen and artisans among their number, a deliberate policy aimed at reducing dependence on supply and civilian labour, or if you prefer, to improve the flexibility of Roman campaigning. Therefore guerilla warfare is already deprived of a major strength before we even begin, because it's that much more difficult to inderdict Roman logistics, especially since the caravans would be guarded by assigned vexillations or even cavalry screens if necessary. Also, another advantage of guerilla warfare is the relative anonymity of of irregular soldiers. But we aren't dealing with an era of military tradesmanship, even with the apparently more organised efforts of the Romans, and we should realise that since most opponents of the Romans were simply tribesmen with weapons, there is very little diffwerentiation between guerilla fighter and civilian anyway, something the Romans would not have bothered worrying about. They were simply fighting enemies who were sneakier than they were expecting. But to dilute the concept of guerilla fighting even further, it must be clearly understood that although the Romans preferred a formal confrontation, all factions in the ancient world depended on ruse and subterfuge for success to a greater or lesser degree. The Romans themselves often defused aggression among frontier factions by a policy of divisive bribery and reward. One faction gets Roman support, their neighbour doesn't, and the system was used to manipulate the factions of potential enemies to avoid having to fight them all - a policy still used by modern politics behind the scenes. In fact, it might be claimed that if the Romans suffered guerilla warfare, they had already failed.

With rain looming on the horizon I was pleased to see a bright sunny morning. Since my first task of the day was another visit to the programme centre, I decided to take advantage of the good weather and take a stroll up the alleyway rather than down the hill. By this time of year the undergrowth should be starting to bulge along the fence marking the boundary of the old college site. So far there's precious little of it, and instead it looks as if the alleyway has been cleared of foliage. Nonetheless, I did see one spot where the tarmac has burst open as a stalk of 'horsetail' pushes upward to find sunlight. How incredible is that? A vulnerable green shoot of vegetation has lliterally forced its way through half an inch of asphalt like it wasn't there. How on earth did it sprout there? Sadly it won't survive, because it's emerging right in the path of cars turning into the yard, but what a demonstration of the tenacity and power of nature. The trouble is that whilst the alleyway is free of foliage and relatively passable, it also looks bare - a muddy pathway lined with all sorts of discarded material - clothes, bedding, scraps of damp wood, rusty springs, and the skeletal remains of consumer goods. Ahead of me two people were energetically cutting up branches with heavyweight shears. They didn't see me approach and after politely asking to go by, we got talking. Apparently this couple have just bought one of the houses backing onto the alleyway.and being public spirited types, they've already contacted the council about the waste clogging the path. That's nothing, I told them, you should see some of the alleyways further west. Some of those are blocked completely by abandoned furniture. They looked a bit shocked by the scale of Swindons rubbish culture. Not Quite Completed The olympic stadium in London is on the news as I type. It looks more like a Nascar track at the moment because the running oval isn't going to be installed until the assets for the opening ceremony have gone in first. But let's not be finnicky about this - I have been proved wrong - they have finished it on time. Almost.

But that's my point - they did fight guerilla forces. However, they always tried to force the conduct of the campaign to suit themselves. Bear in mind the Romans had suffered helplessness during the Punic Wars and that left a deep imprint on the Roman psyche. After that they assumed a very relentless attitude toward those they wasnted conquered. The Romans were psychologically unwilling to conider 'weakness' by assuming a defensive posture. The problem for the Roman legions was that they were primarily designed for 'conventional' battle until they adapted toward low level warfare in the late empire. They simply weren't equipped, formed, or trained to deal with informal warfare. Therefore their overall strategy, which we see repeated again and again in the historical record, was to hunt down their hidden enemy and force him into a situation where the legions could tackle them on their own terms, such as a set piece battle or more preferably a siege. The means by which they forced this situation were no different to any other power seeking to weed out hostile elements intheir territory - it doesn't take much imagination. The risk for the Romans was that the enemy would mount an ambush or other insurgent methods that would circumvent (or even defeat) their attempts at a succesful campaign. In terms of units the differences really wouldn't impact greatly unless we consider whether they were mounted or not. Since the legions were a 'one horse show', it was only allies and auxillaries that created any diversity in the Roman order of battle, but in terms of patrols, security crackdowns on settlements, or other means of finding and forcing retreat of hostile elements, there was no functional difference in the objectives or the methods used to achieve them.

Last week was a plethora of cancelled appointments. Yet another landed on my doorstep on Friday. In formal and impersonal style the date was set later, leaving me free to answer the call of duty at the museum. Well, that's volunteering for you. Monday opening? The museum tried that before and gave up. Today however, a coachload of french students are to be transported across Britain to our sunny old Swindon, for a special open day all for themselves. Forty seven bemnused french youths sauntered in. Their tutors gave them explicit instructions to ask questions from museum staff in english (always a good sign) but on this occaision, the youngsters were either too stunned or bored by our exhibits to think of anything to say. The funny thing was that as they were leaving, the backgound hum of french conversation gave way to a hesitant "Bye" as they filed out through the door. Was that all they'd learned how to say? Window Shopping There's no doubt our local model shop adds a splash of colour to the otherwise dour high street. Everywhere you look there were bright and dramatic images of tanks, planes, cars, boats, and other things to make with the sweat of your brow, a pair of tweezers, a couple of tins of Humbrol enamel, and enough glue to put a smile on your face. And lo, everyone was looking. men, women, children, even those who denied any interest in the slightly nerdish practice of model-making stopped to browse the boxes in the window. Today was no different. A horde of french students crowded around the window before they were whisked off to another part of the world. How Was Your Day? Back to the programme centre for another bout of internetting. My advisor sidled up and asked how my day was. Sounds like it's better than yours, mate, if that's a cold you have there. I asked him how his day was, and yes, it was not his best day ever, feeling stressed out after guiding doleseekers into the hidden mysteries of finding paid employment all morning. I had no choice to add my commiserations for his suffering. Not only was he stressed and in poor health, it was also Monday. That's a tough call. Now if only he'd been more generous with his doughnuts I would have been truly sympathetic. Is It Just Me, Or...? The recent death of Sian O'Callaghan has apparently bitten deep into the Swindon psyche. I know, I saw it on the news. Now in fairness I think she was killed for the most selfish reasons possible, and the gentleman who was bundled into the magistrates court this morning deserves everything he gets if he's found guilty. Nonetheless, I can't help feeling there's something odd about the public sympathy that's been evident of late. I doubt the majority had even met her before, let alone knew her as a friend. With all the recent deaths paraded on the television news, why are we all so deeply affected by Sian's death? One major reason, I suspect, is that she's perceived as innocent and undeserving of her fate.

It was the command structure that caused the problem, not the formation. Since the Romans were geared for exclusive single command, they did not react well to situations where cooperative reaction was essential, because inter-unit communication was not catered for on a formal basis. In fact, we know that legionaries regarded their centurion as the boss and in some cases refused outright to obey orders from a commander of another century. Neither was there any standard inter-unit signalling system, or even any kind of formal messaging system. It was standard practice among the legions to rely on co-operative intiative - which was fine if everyone understood what was going on, and ambushes are not the easiest situations to gain initiative of. Bear in mind that as an aggressive conquest state, the legions were designed for offence, not defence, and their tactics and training reflected that doctrine. Couldn't agree more. The Roman approach, as I mentioned earlier, was indeed to root the enemy out. By containment they attempted to force the guerillas into a situation where their own chosen strategies were preferable. In other words, the Romans - as always - preferred an offensive posture.

Nonsense. The Romans typically sought to contain the enemy and force him to gather at a single location where they could deal with the issue in one final action, fighting on their terms rather than the enemies. Notice that they effectively utilise the same means as catching animals en masse.

Another sunny day? Yes, it is. Another chance then to get out and about, doing stuff, meeting people, filling my day with endless blog anecdotes. So let's start as I mean to continue. First task is to extricate myself from bed. Get out of bed? There was a time in my energetic youth when I thought nothing of leaping into clothes and bursting out into the big wide world before being crushed utterly by fate. Now I grimace and debate the relaive merits of warm comfortable beds and the bracing weather of sunny old Swindon. As it happens, I have a mission today. Yesterday I discovered that the path around the back of the lake at Queens Park has been opened up. That's the first time I've been able to circumnavigate the lake there since I came to Swindon more than forty years ago. Needless to say the Park Beavers had been at work. The hillside looks like the vegetation has been ripped out, which is pretty much the case, and definitely not pretty to look at. Still, it was interesting to wander around there, though from the noise the birds were making they're not used to human beings wandering around the quiet end of the lake where they nest. I Have A job For You Another morning at the museum. I was settling in for a dull session manning the front desk, watching the world go by outside. No sooner had I resigned myself to the boredom of an empty museum when the boss burst through the doors. A wicked smile crossed his lips as he saw me. I could see his evil mind plotting, scheming, wondering if... "Caldrail, are you any good at woodwork?" He asked. Erm... No, too late. If you intend to put the boss off you need to be quicker than that. He almost hauled me bodily out of the chair and before I had a chance to mention my inexperience of anything remotely connected with DIY, he was teaching me new skills like helping to erect display cases from scratch. Hang on... What's all this water running down my face? Sweat? You mean I'm actually sweating? Oh good grief, this is manual labour! Too Late Eventually I managed to give my boss the slip. Having sneaked out of the museum I was safe to go down to the programme centre and pursue my job searching. First thing, my emails.... What's this? A vacancy on offer? Woo hooo!!!!! The message asked me to call them. Another email asked me to call immediately. Right you are then. Pick up the phonerator thing, tap in the number (I think this is how you use these satanic devices) and... The contact wasn't available. Darn. But I using someone elses phone, so the person on the other end went off to find the lady who asked me to contact her. When she returned, I heard a brief comment in the background, and phone went dead. Is that what this agency consider polite business manners? Not that it mattered. Almost immediately afterward I got an 'out of office' autoreply to my persistent contacting. Okay, I get the message.

The Roman legions after Marius had been primarily designed and fine-tuned for formal warfare. Apart from a security role (Besides guard duty,some serving legionaries might be assigned as spies - legions had men doing all sorts of peripheral activities including hunting animals for the arena. Patrols on the frontier were often left to 'lower value' troops like auxillaries) there was little else to engage them other than civil engineering where available. However - increasingly the Roman legions began to indulge in raids at their own initiative, designed not for military or politcal objectives but purely for reward. In fact, by the fourth century, raiding had become a viable strategy for the lighter and less formal legions of the time. Sebastianus attempted to prove the value of guerilla warfgare by sending specially men ahead of the main column with notable success against the Goths. In general, the Roman legions prior to Constantines reforms did very poorly against guerilla fighters. The reason was simple. When the legions dictated where and how the battle was to be fought, chances are they would do very well. If the enemy dictated the course of the conflict, the Romans usually failed utterly. An obvious examples is the the campaign againt Spartacus. Since guerilla warfare is all about fighting whilst denying the enemy a clear and present objective, we can say the Romans weren't well equipped to deal with such strategies. With suitable intelligence and a clear objective the Romans could tip the balance in their favour, such as finishing off the jewish zealots at Masada or the druidic resistance at the Battle of Mona in the 1st century. Notice though the Romans had forced both factions to a retreat and assaulted it directly - a typical Roman ploy.

Glancing at the local paper today I saw a piece on how some organisation intends to renovate the street I live in. In a sense that's a good thing. With a new shopping centre planned to replace the derelict college buildings almost next door, it hardly makes sense to build an expensive flagship development next to a run down street full of empty and vandalised offices. Trouble, they intend to use offenders to paint properties and build flower boxes. Oh great. So the local burglars get a chance to see what everyone has in their house? I've no doubt that the little angekls who will eventually cause a crime spree in the street will offer the excuse that it was our fault for owning stuff. Genetic Attraction One item I saw today is about a man and his daughter having a child together. Apparently she wanted to track down her long seperated father and once they met, they... erm... got acquainted. Now they deny incest and claim instead to be victims of 'Genetic Sexual Attraction'. Well I can understand them being happy to be re-united, but let's be blunt, regardless of mutual arousal in the heat of the moment they are still supposed to be responsible law abiding adults. That means sex was not compulsory, irrespective of how much they wanted to do it. Genetic attraction or not, they knew who each other were, and so committed incest. Sorry, but they did. Not so many generations ago this would have been a dark family secret covered up and reducing peoples lives to misery. These days they offer excuses to the worlds media. Having A Nice Day It's no good moaning that I haven't found a job today, or that I haven't helped an old lady across the road, or returned some errant feline to its desperate owner. It's a nice sunny day. So I'm off to enjoy it.

This sort of connection is nothing unusual in history when dealing with mythic personalities. It's like Saladin and Richard the Lion Heart. They're supposed to have met and compared swords, but sadly, it's no more than romantic fiction and there's no record the two ever met face to face.

UNRVer Bloggists need love? Personally, I think I need wild passionate sex. Instead of an Amazon kindle, how about a blonde amazon (preferably with both mammary glands still attached)? Gibber.... Actually in all seriousness I don't think blogs should be made competitive. Do I need to be rewarded for my blogging? I guess many would say I need to be locked in jail for some of the things I've written. Blogs are after all a personal diary of one sort or another and my own feelings are that they should be allowed to remain so.

By the early hours of yesterday morning I'd had enough. The files on my computer that I was working on had reached the point where they were arguing with me. Error messages came up and I brushed them aside with a click of the mouse. Eventually the the project sent me to coventry in a fit of digital picque. After a few minutes of effing and blinding I decided it was time to log off, close down, and retire for the evening. Tomorrow I would start again. Eventually I shut everything down and as I left the room I switched off the lights. Then I noticed something wasn't right. There weren't any mystical manifestations or walls that run away from you, but a sense that something was somehow a bit different. The light! After nearly a decade of inhabiting my little brick cave I've gotten used to the appearance of the night from inside. The familiar amber glow of the street lights was well known to me. Instead, the light was a lemon yellow. More like daylight in fact, and the effect was quite confusing. Surely it can't be dawn already? Not at this time of year? Nope. The street lights have been replaced. Gone are the orange lights of yesteryear and here are the lights of today. It does have a more natural feel, and I have to say, it's an order of magnitude brighter out there in Swindonland, but what an odd sensation. Sarcasm of the Week Once again I head down to the programme centre for another session of jobseeking. By lunchtime the foyer is empty of idle claimants sitting about idly waiting for something to happen, so I strolled for the signing-in book and greeted the lady on the desk with a hearty good afternoon. "Hi" She smiled. "How are you? What a lovely day, isn't it?" She's absolutely spot on. The sky is a brilliant clear blue, and quite warm too. Yes, I agreed, it is a lovely day. Very warm though, I'm almost starting to sweat. Can't have that you know. Dole seekers don't sweat. "Oh!" She said with a guffaw, "You're being sarcastic!" Yes. Yes I am. Glad you enjoyed the humour and I'm here until Friday.

What I'm getting at is that we're seeing godhood as a defined and discreet level of being. That's a modern christian view, in that we're accustomed to the idea of a single unique god whose power and status is absolute and unquestionable - not to mention unattainable. The pagan Romans saw no such distinction. Now it is true that the Senate gave official qualification to a small number of individuals by deifing them. This has nothing to do with spirituality, but represents the ultimate honour. In the same way the Senate might invite a man to become emperor, so they invite a deceased man of suitable reputation to become a god. Please note the idea of assignment by the senators. It's as if they 're sending an application form on the behalf of the deceased to Olympus and expect the gods to take notice. You could argue that there was a measure of political expendiency involved. I agree. Roman ambivalence is never far from their motives. The persistence of reputation is the important issue here. Note that if you ask anyone to name a Roman, the chances are they will mention Julius Caesar (along with a couple of julio-claudian emperors who were accused of having divine ambition). It's that mythic status that defines the reality of deification in the minds of those who accept the premis that a human being can ascend to the ranks of Olympian deities. But bear in mind the subliminal level of ancestor worship present in Roman society. Whilst it was never a primary spiritual belief, a Roman should always speak well of the dead, because they a supernatural force to reckoned with, second only to the vengeful gods that interfere directly in the affairs of man. It is true that many of the revered deceased would fade in the memory of the public quite quickly and their tombs more often used to host cheap sex with prostitutes that cannot justify a better office, but this indeed measures the importance and reputation of the individual and to some degree mirrors the mans virtus acheived during his lifetime. In other words, whilst the Senate made political recognition of divine status, the reality was in the minds of the public. A patron might have been powerful and influential, but was he revered as a great person during his lifetime and more importantly, afterward? Just as status in the mundane world varies in scope, so did the status of deities in Roman eyes.

Life is a struggle for doughnuts in the dangerous world of the rainforests of Darkest Wiltshire. Face it, a doughnut can make the difference between fulfilled satisfaction or desperate hunger. I pass the window of the chinese takeaway and drool helplessly at the large glossy adverts of exotic dishes on display. By habit I check my pockets for cash, and make a sigh of resignation at the discovery of the last few pence. Pence? What can you buy with pence these days? I suppose newspapers are still affordable. At least then I can read how much hungrier people are elsewhere in the world. Certainly not a pizza. The exhorbitant prices asked for a slab of dough with cheese and tomato sauce are ridiculous, especially when a similar product can be bought from a supermarket for a tenth of the price, albeit without the luxury of a moped rider, bedraggled and frustrated by his inability to navigate to your door, delivering the product three hours after you ordered it. Naturally this state of affairs means you become opportunistic. If someone offers a doughnut, you don't sneeze at it. Naturally then I was devastated to learn that after I left the programme centre on friday I missed out on a free doughnut. The sadistic programme person smiled wickedly as he related how sweet and tasty it was. Yesterday he advised me that he was off for lunch. Doughnuts perhaps? No, he told me, no doughnuts, and despite my insistent pleas for consideration he told me there was no chance of bringing back any sweet and tasty doughnuts. Sigh. By the time I finished my jobsearching stuff he was manning the front desk, subbing in for the lady who normally works at that post as she went off for her doughnut break. Fill in the usual forms and sign out. Just as I was leaving I noticed a doughnut in his hand. He smiled wickedly as he enjoyed the sweet tasty bakery product. Trust me, when the revolution comes, all doughnut consumers will be up against the wall. To Strike Or Not To Strike? Talking about revolutions, what a peculiar situation in Libya. Once again a group of nations has called itself a coalition and aimed it's aerial weaponry toward a dictatorial middle eastern state. No wonder Gadaffi's propaganda machine is trying to equate their own strategic and political difficulties with Iraqs suffering as a nation follwing two Gulf wars. Then again, isn't that a little revealing? Saddam Hussein wasn't exactly a nice guy, nor was his rule especially enlightened. So now we have a coalition air force acting as the allies of rebels in eastern Libya. I don't have any political gripe with this. Politicians will always gang up on someone else for one reason or another - that's everyday human behaviour - but I can't help feeling there's something else motivating the decision to apply military air power to Libya's current turmoil. Can you guess what it is? I guess that claiming Gadaffi has weapons of mass destruction isn't going to cut it these days.