caldrail

I've decided to document a campaign of Total War: Rome. For those who were born yesterday, it's a computer game that came out in 2004, and quite a good one as far as games go. Not every day of course, I have better things to do than to play imaginary battles, though in fairness I've done quite a lot of that in one way or another over the years. The year is 270BC, and I play the Scipii, a powerful and ambitious Roman faction in the great struggle for dominance to come. They come in a fetching shade of blue tunics too.

How many of us, I womder, would wander into an amphitheatre and watch two men fight with swords, quite possibly to the death? Although our modern civilised minds are repulsed by the idea, god forbid the sight of it, there remains nonetheless a fascination buried deep within us. After all, at their height, gladiatorial games were extremely popular in Rome, with leading competitors treated like star athletes. Now bear with me, because I do intend to discuss an element of human behaviour with respect to Roman gladiatorial combat. The thing is we do watch combat of this kind, almost on a daily basis. Film and television present us with a sanitised and not entirely real version of fighting. If you care to admit it, you'll notice that there's a part of you that enjoys the struggle and the villains final moment. We even trivialise the final blow with comic gags to highlight the bad guys demise. There are those who will tell you that watching such programs inevitably induces a sense of familiarity with violence. That by watching television in particular, we tend to assume violent atitudes ourselves. Statistics start to appear and we learn that children watch thousands of virtual killings in our own homes, and so forth. It seems then to the casual observer that we are brutalising our own society and making violence an enjoyable, and in some ways desirable, pursuit. By chance I caught a documentary on Russia Today, in which a certain Dr Gerbner was discussing the effect of violent television. With some interest I note that he says the link between violent television programs and violent behaviour in those who watch is unproven. Ever since the invention of television, no-one has made any convinging case that this assertion is true, despite a few publicised cases of where misguided individuals claim that to be the case. A handful of admissions out of the billions of people who watch television today? Hardly a huge problem, is it? Instead, Dr Gerbner informs us that psychologically human beings become more fearful of actual violence having been exposed to prolongued television and the protrayal of violent acts. On the one hand, our mental state and communication skill suffers from withdrawal from socialising, but also, we see these acts and whilst it can be enjoyable to see the vilain get his comeuppance in a bloody fashion, deep within us the idea that something like that could happen to us in the outside world begins to inhibit our ability to confront it. We begin to choose alternative survival strategies than simply swinging our fists. Cicero once claimed that the arena was good for a Roman citizen. After all, if a mere slave can show courage like that, what can a Roman do? Besides, it prepares a society for battle. Or so he claimed. However, now I start to wonder. Assuming Dr Gerbner is correct, and I have no reason to believe he isn't, then we might see some implications of the arena in terms of changes to Roman society as the imperial period progressed. In the same way that television has eroded peoples fortitude against violence in the modern day, did the arena do the same thing for the Romans over the course of those final few centuries? Notice that the arena grew increasingly bloody toward the latter half of it's popularity, with more accent on the theatre of it as opposed to an honorable display of one-on-one duelling it once was.. Obviously this was not an instant phenomenon, but a slow degeneration of peoples ideas about fighting. Rome had always been a society that encouraged martial values. Whilst under potential threats, the emerging superpower of the ancient world was understabdably reliant on the hard-nosed psyche of it's citizenry. But what happens when a society is successful? When the threat is now longer apparent, and danger becomes part of entertainment rather than a fact of daily life? You might then speculate that part of the reason Christianity grew in public acceptance among the Romans during the late empire was not only the promulgation of christian belief and values, but also a sympathy with the anti-violent rules by a public who experienced violence less than in previous centuries, and instead enjoyed in in the arena. It's easy to criticise that idea, claiming that if it were true, why did the effect not appear earlier in a more widespread manner? In answer to that, note the analogy with television. In the days before television was widespread, the public willingness to confront violence was much increased. I read of how an armed youth was brought down by a gang of outraged citizens acting at the spur of the moment back in the 1900's. Would that happen today? More likely the room would empty very quickly. Of course we don't instantly turn into frightened mice when we switch on the television, but instead, perhaps we might see an erosive effect taking place over generations as certain behavioural traits begin to make themselves felt. My idea then is that the Romans suffered the same pheneomenon, the same trend in public behaviour, that we experience and barely notice among ourselves. Notice how christianity and it's non-violent message is increasingly accepted. Notice how the Roman legions, as Vegetius tells us, lost their strength and spirit. Perhaps the Romans evolved toward a less stern mindset not only because of the weakening effects of prolongued success and the relative absence of hardship, not only because of the christian embargo on violence, but also because they chose to use violence as entertainment and thus eroded their own martial values in the process. In short, was Cicero wrong?

As I sat in the upstairs library lounge before my computer booking came up, I had time to ponder about life, the universe, and job-searching. I think my reflective mood was partly improvement in the weather, weak sunshine and a pale blue sky, with a chaotic band of cream and grey cloud lurking on the horizon. Below, on the busy pavement, shoppers and idle youths wandered back and forth going about their business. There was an orderly calm to it all, nothing like what it can be on a saturday night, and it seems remarkable that society can be so well behaved when it wants to. For those of us learning about current affairs in America, the news of a shooting doesn't seem all that shocking. Here in Britain we've become used to reports of gun crime across the pond, and the violence portrayed in imported film and television does nothing to dispell that view. We get regular reports of random slaughters. That said, I don't want to seem callous. As it happens I do hope the victim makes a recovery. However, it seems that the Americans are shocked by the attack on one of their politicians. The violence of the incident was not desirable in any way, yet a country whose constitution supports the ownership of weapons, one whose history glamourises the use of them, one whose day to day lives seem punctuated by gun crime to outsiders like me, should be so shocked at the shooting is baffling. I wonder? Is my puzzlement due to the inherently smaller world view of the British? What I mean is that although gun crime exists in America, it's spread over a much greater area, and to us, the impression is of a society prone to violence at the drop of a safety catch, because we naturally think in terms of a much smaller land mass. Or is this merely the result of media coverage? Are the American journalists deliberately accentuating the madness of it all? I heard a female reporter on BBC America last night talking about the wierd smile the perpetrator had on his face as he stood in court. A witness stresses the villain shoots at a little girl. He may well be a dangerous oddball for all I know, yet the reports accentuate his dysfunctional habits. It's as if the public are being treated to a virtual execution. Almost as if a man is being led to the gallows for the public to see justice done. But then are we so different? In the case of a recent murder in Bristol, a suspect was described by the media in preparation for his trial which as it turns out was not to be. Despite being an oddball himself, the suspect was released and apparently had no part in the killing. The difference then is one of style, both in how we live as a society and how we choose to report it. What About The Jobsearch? Oh yes, that continues, and what a strange endeavour it has become. Today I got an email from an agency telling me that they've received my CV from another source and they intend to file it for future use. That's jolly decent of them, especially since I've been sending them my CV for nearly three years in the vain hope they'd actually look at it. I had to laugh at a job advert today. Apparently for this vacancy the applicant requires "gritty determinatioon". Must be a job as a recruitment consultant.

Roman Britain can be divided into three demographic regions. The all important southeast, with a proliferation of Roman culture, is the anchor point of their civilisation in the British Isles. Next to this is a strip of territory running from the mid south to the mid east of England, where local and roman cultures existed side by side comfortably. The third region really was a frontier. Small pockets of Roman presence surrounded by native tribes living as they always had. Cornwall falls within this last category and archaeology does not discount its inclusion. In any case, the Roman presence in the far southwest was a formality. The locals, possibly due to a long history of trade with foreigners, seem to have accepted Roman rule and since they were so co-operative, the usual impingement of authority was unnecessary. For that reason alone, it's unlikely you'll find much in the way of Roman remains in that region.

Sunrise, sunset, Sunday, Monday.... Yes, Swindon has reverted to ordinary greyness. There's a sort of comfortable familiarity about layers of dismal cloud drifting across the town and never letting it be one thing or another. It's been a suprisingly quiet start to the year. I only heard the first police siren wailing past my home on saturday night. Even Punch & Judy, fresh back from annoying someone else on their christmas holiday, have been quiet and mindful of the fact that thanks to the lack of sound insulation I can hear everything they do. Yes, even that. At least I assume that's what they're doing. But that's their business and I'll spare them the spotlight since they've been nice and considerate since their return. Now then, as for the latest news about my comings and gopings, I must report an encounter at the front door of the Job Centre. As I arrived a young woman was waiting inside to be let out. To my left, another couple of young ladies, somewhat less attractive than the jaw dropping brunette facing me through the glass sort of assumed I was going to be a gentleman and allow them by. Oh, please use the door, why don't you? That meant I was standing in the cold draughty pavement outside. Right, they've entered, now it's my turn. As I slipped inside with a scowl the brunette slipped past me with a "You're welcome." The cheek of it! Chivalry should be offered, not demanded. Or have I missed the point of what she was saying? More News From Swindon The printers weren't working at the programme centre this morning. Okay, maybe that's not entirely newsworthy, nor as an event is it entirely new, but hey, it was an excuse for an extra paragraph. More News From The Swindon Newspaper A burglar got caught and sentenced to more than two years for being caught a third time. Proof, if any were needed, that police bureaucracy and red tape work after all. All I need to do now is buy another car and wait for it to be vandalised. The police will be able to catch the perpetrator at long last.

The use of rectangular or square shields might have older roots than the mid republic, despite the lack of direct evidence from archaeology. In ancient times, when Romans used rectangular shields, the Estruscans fought in phalanx using bronze shields, but having compelled the Romans to adopt the same equipment they were themselves defeated." Diodorus Unfortunately Rome did not employ historians until the third century BC, thus the information is suspect, but intriguingly I see a pair of terracotta statuettes found at Veii, dated to the fifth century BC. They show naked male dancers with spear and shield. Apparently the Romans used war dances to train their young warriors. One has a round shield suitable for phalanx, the other a square shield. Aside from ornamental variety, it raises the possibility that not all latins were fighting in phalanx. Perhaps the Romans did so and kept up with military developments, thus assisting their military domination of the Latins who might not have been so quick to see the benefits of fighting greek-style.

But that's just it. it didn't collapse. It was subject to a hostile takeover in the west after a decline to the point where Roman imperatism was ineffectual and unable to resist the eviction. Although we discount the western Roman empire from that point the state still existed in its atrophied form. The fact remains that financially the west was doomed after Constantine. Further, the bonds of society were becoming less coherent during the last century of the western empire to the point that communities were opting out of governmental control, rsisting taxation, and looking to their own defence. If that's not evidence of a decline, I don't know what is.

Sunday is living up to its name. A bright morning and suprisingly not too cold, even with the frost obscuring the pavement in the shade of the old college. Perhaps the new shopping mall development planned for that site, assuming they actually get around to it and find businesses still left open to operate from the premises, will have the benefit of ridding us of this frost trap. Good thing too, I say. I can't even begin to count all the times I've done my trademark 'Oh no - I'm slipping on frosty pavement' routine. That said, I think I'm getting used to living in cold temperatures. There was a documentary on the Blitz a while back which featured a veteran of the time pointing at the interviewer and saying with great cockney conviction "You can get used to anything!" I suspect that's true of survivors, but that goes for any trial or tribulation in life. The reality is that living in the cold reduces my activity a great deal. With continued good health as much as comfort to worry about, I've been spending more time staying warm than anything productive, though getting about on my jobsearch has certainly kept me from freezing up altogether. So it's great to see some sunshine. It really is. Except I'm sat at a computer with the sun on my back. No, it's no good, I'm going to have to draw the blinds... And In Other News According to the local newspaper... MOTORISTS will not see a reduction in car park costs in Swindon, despite the Government announcing local councils should entice shoppers with cheaper Parking. That says it all really. Maybe our new shopping centre won't appear in too much of a hurry after all, especially the government have conveniently forgotten they now charge us more to shop, more to drive, and as soon as the countries finances pick up a little, they'll all be finding ways to squeeze money out of the system angain. After all, they can always charge more tax, can't they? Or are they going to leave us enough to pay our bills this time? News of the Week The time has come for the world to have another great conflict or scandal. I know this to be true because soap operas are starting to fill up the headlines, always a sign of journalistic desperation. Actors are leaving the show, actors are being bumped off in dramatic virtual murders and accidents, and I'm supposed to care. It's sunny this morning. Time to get out and about. Much more interesting than bad accents and over-inflated story lines, don't you think? Stand by, world, Caldrail is on his way. Not quite news of the week perhaps, but as far as I'm concerned, hugely more world shaking than another departure from the ranks of virtual personalities on my television screen.

Not necessarily. The leaders of the day made decisions that might seem to us to have had undesirable implications, but then they didn't have the benefit of knowing exactly what was going to happen, so is it fair to apportion blame so readily? The fact is the west had already declined by the time of Adrianople and why exactly are we blaming the fall of the west on the emperor of the eastern half? Okay, I know he ruled both sides, but bear in mind the eastern half was where the money was, where the political power was, and in any event, finding himself running an increasingly disunited empire with weak legions that had suffered a major military reverse, why is his desire to seek to a short term answer to security so bad? In fact, one could decide that he was making positive steps to assimilate potential enemies and increase his tax base in the process. Perhaps the problem then is not so much his decisions over the empire, but that the empire was in terminal decline and the will and strength to reforge it was lacking, even though Theodosius made efforts to restore order in faraway places like Britain, itslef defensive moves at retaining territory and property rather than developing it.

Over the last decade I've been unemployed a fair few times. Nothing to be proud of and definitely something that inhibits my search for gainful employment at the moment. As a result of this I've become used to the regime of the dole office. It used to be fairly simple. You queued up and took your turn at a kiosk for your claim to be registered for another fortnight. That's all there was to it. Then the regime changed to plusgh offices and comfy seating where you waited for your turn to sign on, and now it was a more personal exchange. These days it's more of a compriomise between the two, with a sort of authoritarian air encouraged among claims advisors. Somethimes things don't quite go exactly the way they expect. Like when I made a pass at an attractive young lady the other side of a desk some years ago (he he he, did she ever give me a scalding), or when I assumed a noble title (Did I ever get scalded for that too). Always they remained in charge though, no matter how conversational they might be. There was always a hint of suspicion that you might be talking porkies. They say the eyes are a window to the soul. Eyebrows are a window to the belief. Things are different. All of a sudden the claims advisors are being helpful, supportive, and willing to listen to my plight, even asking me what I wanted from employment. Good grief. You never used to get asked questions like that. The law says you look for a job or you get no money. So used to being required to do one thing or another, I found being asked how I would like to sign on a peculiar experience. It's quiet. Too quiet... They're up to something you know... More Closures? During the demise of our last government much was made in the media of the catastrophic levels of shop closures on the high street. It seems we're not finished yet. In Swindon, Waterstones (Our book store) and HMV (Our independent music retailer) are both threatened with shutting up shop altogether. I know the current government says things are bleak and we all have to suffer, but books and CD's? That'll mean all I have left are god awful game shows on television, or the unsatisfying shopping on the internet. I like the smile and cheery farewell I get from the local shop assistants. All the internet does is bring up a page saying thanks for the cash. You know what I mean.

In general the Roman approach to prepared positions was to confine and starve them out. However, the Romans weren't always prepared to sit out a siege and sooner or later the need for victory would provoke a more direct response. The Roman commander might be keen to impress the Emperor with a quick victory, or perhaps need one to preserve what's left of his political career. There might be practical reasons for wanting a quick ending. Logisitics for instance. Even with a single legion on site, you still need sooner or later to supply nearly six thousand men with food and water in a region where foraging isn't so easy (and as everywhere, remains a diminishing resource). Although the Romans developed an expertise in logistics, this was primarily between fixed sites, not columns on campaign, which more often than not had to rely on their own initiative for supply. Once an assault becomes the preferred tactic, is a tunnel necessary? Could the rebels be smoked out with fires? If necessary, the legionaries would be ordered to go in, and you might well imagine the claustrophic hack and thrust in dark passages.

Unfortunately I'm a complete dunce about things nautical, but according to the somewhat limited information I have about sailing and in particular to the use of oars used as rudders, the downside to this approach is indeed control at higher speeds. bear in mind that Roman ships would not cruise at the higher speeds possible unless the wind allowed it. Unlike an engine driven ship, the capacity for oarsmen to keep a vessel at a good pace was quite limited. It's a fairly safe bet that maximum speed was for straight lines only, though I'm quite happy to be put straight on this. As for manoeverability, although the initial push of the oar against the water flow might require some strenuous effort, bear in mind that the whole point of the exercise is to turn, thus the vessel 'equalises' as much as possible, a compromise between the physical forces between the interia of the hull and the pressure on the oar reduces the overall need for muscle, if not entirely. The leverage of the oar at the rear of the ship accentuates its effect. Now as for the rope system you allude to, that's speculation, because nowhere have I ever read of such a system used on Roman ships. I now sit back and wait for my opinions to be swept aside by the tide of expertise on this subject.

I've developed a passion for hot cheese sandwiches. Nothing fancy, just two slices of bread with a slice of cheese in-between, heated in a microwave until the smell becomes too fantastic to ignore. For those who want to try this at home, please ask a grown up. I got away with it but it could have have all ended in irradiated tears. I know it's safe to eat because there's no burger in it. How could anyone get fat on cheese? There are people who might insist that a true gourmet would add an extra ingredient or two, but for me that takes away the purity of the experience. Wallace & Grommit have shown us the path to culinary enlightenment. Why do I like this simple dish so much? My suspicion is for much the same reason cheese has taken over almost the entire american-speaking world, but then, we get real cheese here in England, and who could possibly resist that? My Old Flame Having polished off the last hot cheese sandwich and bored my neighbours with incessant guitar riffs, I resorted to television last night, and thankfully the success of Top Gear means there's always a repeat showing on one channel or another. Come on guys, make another one. The episode I caught was the one where they celebrated Lamborghini's fortieth birthday. Featured was that epitome of automotive sex, the Muira. Please excuse me for a moment, I might need to change my underwear... ...Okay, I'm back. Now where was I? Oh yes, the Muira.... ....Heck, my laundry bill is growing. But seriously, what a superb and sensuous sixties icon. I first discovered this car as a dinky toy in the local post office. My mother had unsuspectedly taken me along as she did some adult stuff across the counter but my immature childhood mind was stunned, shocked, and enlightened by the extraordinary model car that outshone everything else. From that moment on, my life would never be ordinary. I had seen the shape of things to lust over. How could anyone possibly resist that? Enjoy It While You Can Having upset the blog-reading world by a soul destroying review of Stargazing Live the other day, I have to eat my own words, because the program revealed the shocking fact that an object is approaching Earth. No-one knows what it is, but's heading this way, and just in time for conspiracy theorists to lose themselves in an orgy of smugness at the possiblity that Hollywood had been right all along and 2012 really is the big event the Mayans always said it would be. Trouble is, the speed, mass, and energy of these interstellar missiles is mind-boggling. The dinosaurs probably roared a lot ineffectually before they were wiped out by the explosion and it's aftermath, abd even ourselves, with mighty atomic weapons and red buttons to press are hugely optimistic about deflecting these things without Bruce Willis to guide them. A shame, because the effects of a collision between a large object and earth are going to need more than a russian survival pod to resist. See? I can do it too. Sack brian Cox, and put me on television. Infotainment while you wait. Not only that, but the Department of Work & Pensions will finally be able to breathe a sigh a relief as I stop charging the government thousands of pounds to keep a roof over my head.

Yes, I know, I'm an addict (the second officially known), but I want more fresh unseen Top Gear. Make the lads work for their money instead of galivanting around the world in beat up old cars (snigger)

The problem here then is what we define as woolly thinking. Whilst I don't necessarily argue with his pronouncements on things astronomical, I find do find him hopelessly messianic about his presentation. Partly we must blame the producers of the television shows he appears on for that particular style. You obviously like his presentation. I think he sounds like a lay-preacher. As for knocking the BBC, why shouldn't I? I don't have any choice but to pay for it, so the least they could do is show more Top Gear.

Just a moment ago I was browsing the local newspapers local hiustory page. It's a regular feature in which we learn fascinating trivia about life in Swindon in times gone by. I was a little suprised by todays entry, concerning the result of bad behaviour in a late victorian school. Some lads had misbehaved and received corporal punishment for their misdemeanours. The parents complained and the kids got thrown out, getting their revenge by pelting the headmaster with vegetables and threatening to use stones. And I thought such things were only happening today! The interesting fact though that was while the parents were exactly like modern ones, disbelieving their little angels could warrant such disciplinary treatment, the official record of the punishment meted out was quite tame. When I was a schoolchild, 'getting the cane' was a rigid, inflexible, and extremely painful punishment. I remember one boisterous lad emerging from the headmasters office looking on the verge of bursting into tears. Personally I never suffered such treatment, being somewhat better able to avoid getting caught and if I were honest, being mischievious rather than naughty. What a fascinating insight into the previous turn of the century. It just goes to show people never change. And Today Is? Todays weather report is entirely predictable. Have a guess. Go on, don't be shy, just imagine what weather Swindonis getting right now... Yes, you're right, unless you chose any weather other than rain in which case you clearly don't know anything about Swindon and need to read my blog more thoroughly. Shame on you. Report to Caldrails office for six of the best.

We had a small earthquake a couple of days ago, 'oop north. Apparently Britain gets a tremor once a year although you wouldn't know it. With Britain swaying so much these days who wuld notice a geological vibration or two?

Not a nice day. Maybe it isn't raining quite to the extent certain parts of Australia have suffered recently but the wind is blustery and the air damp with rainness. No, not a nice day. As if that suprises me. For a start this is Britain, and we are known internationally for our trademarked lousy climate. On the other hand, it's also a time of astronomical significance and therefore the skies are cloudy so we cannot observe the celestial wonders above. BBC have even started Stargazing Live in which an astronomer and a comedian provide the running commentary to real on-the-spot stargazing. A part of me wonders if Dara O'Brean is only their to make Brian Cox sound interesting, but perhaps I criticise too much. After all, they're getting paid for pointing at the night sky. I just get cold and wet. Since they're professional presenters the skies cleared for them, as the BBC seem to be able to book good weather in advance, but for me the arrival of a meteor storm went unnoticed as I looked out onto a typically dismal winter night. Somewhere above lumps of dirt are plummetting into the atmosphere at thousands upon thousands of miles an hour and making nice pyrotechnic displays as they burn up from the friction of it. And once again, British weather has obscured it. Never mind. Let's be optimistic. I still have a few years left before I die of old age. Maybe I'll get to see a shower or two before my tired old body gives up the wait? Better yet, this is a period of alignment, in which the planets form an orderly queue and cause global devastation by concatenated gravitic influence. Or not, as the case may be. I'm not worried. there's plenty of flu going around, so any space alien invasion is bound to fail. You'd think super intelligent creatures from other worlds would learn that Earth people cannot be defeated. We have the perfect defence. Get your coughs and sniffles now, while stocks last. Moan of the Week Today is 20% day. For those foreigners who've never encountered the Great British Taxation System, Value Added tax has risen to 20% to pay off the politicians ezpenses. It's a surcharge for all transactions on goods and services, so if I buy a bag of jelly beans, not only does it cost sixty pence, it also costs me another twelve that the government rake off. That I suppose is the advantage that Doctor Who has. His jelly beans are supplied by the BBC, whose budget I also have to pay an unholy sum for every year.

But slow, which I find amusing considering he accuses James May of that characteristic. The fact is he goes sideways too much and bleeds off speed. Yes. Definitely a funny man

Ahem to that. May California avoid a major earthquake for another year (favour returned in true Roman style )

In what way can a man describe himself as free? I don't mean John Inman style availability (ugh), but rather that sense of freedom that allows you to pursue interests without harm or hindrance. There is the restraint of law, applied by the state to control our actions, which is identifiably a boundary for the lawful. Of course if you happen to be criminally minded then it's a challenge of sorts, but then you risk even more confinement. Strictly speaking our laws defend our freedom, even though it doesn't seem that way half the time these days. In fact, we can claim to have laws that directly address the issue, since slavery has been outlawed since the 1830's in Britain. That's all well and good, but the law fails to address the real issue. The fact is slavery is alive and well, thriving under our noses so to speak, part of everyday life. I won't waste your time with conspiracy theories or paranoia about secret government. Actually I think most of that is twaddle anyway, and as we say in our country, you're innocent until proven guilty. Yet despite that fundamental principle, I find few people observe it. You know what I mean. Something bad happens and sooner or later we start getting suspicious about someone, and before you know it, we're pointing fingers and demanding justice. That sadly is the way human beings are. The benefit of civilisation, at least the relaitively benign one I live in, is that we have authorities who are duty bound to prove guilt, and the law says without such proof, a man can go about his lawful business. Superficially then we seem to be safe in our civilised world, free from any risk of being subjected to the ownership of other people. Yet on a daily basis we accept a certain level of ownership. It's intrinsic to our social behaviour that we adopt a a place in a hierarchy, or accept affiliation within a tribal group of some kind, something we do unconciously.. More insidious are the more dominant members of society that seek to direct us. Your boss at work for instance. Almost certainly he or she demands certain behaviour before you're accepted into the workplace or allowed any advancement at all. Usually this requires no more than observing a few extra restrictions, most of which are foisted on your boss for health, safety, or good behaviour expected in the workplace. Sometimes, though, it gets ridiculous. You're expected to spend your free time playing golf, or drive a certain class, make, or model of car. You might be expected to marry someone. Usually someone you instantly don't want to be involved with, but then bosses are not known for being adept matchmakers. They have other priorities. How far does this sort of influence and control have to go before a man can say he is no longer free? I suppose it depends on the individual, and how much he expects to receive in return for conformity and obedience. Yet I cannot help thinking that there is a more definable boundary to becoming a modern slave or free citizen. In fact, the Romans discovered this millenia ago. Cassius Dio for instance, whose histories are chock full of demonstations of what is or isn't freedom and enslavement. It all boils down to one thing. Self determination. If you can longer choose, if your course of action is irrevocably dictated by someone else, the wisdom of ancient times suggests that you are, in very real terms, enslaved. Well they ought to know. They enslaved enough people didn't they? And My Answer Is? No, I don't want to be a christian. Sorry, but it's an insufferably hypocritical religion that hides an entire subculture of malice and spite. And a few paediophiles as well. No, I don't want to be a soldier. I know the army have kindly sent me offers of employment, but I'm too old and quite frankly not at the best of my health, plus if for some stupid reason they accepted me for service they might discover I'm more of an artist than a warrior. Sorry, but I am. It annoys my sense of masculinity I suppose but then again, there's more to being masculine than a lot of body hair, right? No, I don't want to smoke cigarettes. It's a smelly habit and as for it being a rite of manhood - Maybe it is if you're thirteen years old. Didn't I say something earlier about being able to choose? No, I don't want sex with that particular woman. Sorry, but she's utterly awful, insensitive, and hides a malicious streak that would frighten Genghis Khan. Okay, I do sort of like to ogle her mammary glands, but I can't help that. It's something to do with a primitive bit of my brain that doesn't think about it very much.... Uh oh.... I'm thinking about it... Apparently I've got another twenty seconds before I think about it again. Women have no idea how hard being a man can be. No, I don't want to be homosexual. If two blokes want to go off and do whatever two blokes do to each other, then go away and do it someplace else. I really do not want to know. Fact is I still prefer the half of society that have mammary glands for me to ogle. Told you it would crop up again in twenty seconds. You just can't take me anywhere. No, I don't want to watch football. Back in the Middle Ages an english king had the sport banned. No, really, he did. For a period of history usually regarded as being somewhat ignorant that was a suprisingly erudite move. I'll bet he wasn't disturbed at four o'clock in the morning by singing contests. Actually I think he was more disturbed by french people and by what extent his subjects weren't practising useful life skills like archery. So, if the army recruiter who kindly sent me those offers of fun and sun fixing lorries, I have a suggestion. Yes, recruit a hooligan today. Export our troublemakers to troublespots. That'll put hair on their chest. Ten Past Four It's been a late night. The Soccer Singers have finally remembered which way is home and have wandered off after failing to get any reaction from their unwilling audience. I have no idea what it was all about. Somehow I doubt it was anything world shakingly important. Football just isn't that significant. Unless of course you're a premiership footballer and excused archery practice. Well it's finally time for me to hit the sack.That at least I can still choose to do. Goodnight everyone, sleep well,

There's no objective way to answer this question from our sources, but it seems like we could mark some milestones (such as the Licinian laws of 367 BCE) that achieved some advances in justice. I would say definitely during the republic and then before 100 BC And what do you call just? most of the times "just" was only good for half of the population. As MPC states, a difficult question to answer, especially since justice was not a consistent or evenly applied force in Roman society. There was a spiteful and exploitative edge to the Romans which resulted in many false accusations. Money was the backbone of status, and thus wealth (and perhaps a little judicious bribery) dictated who received justice. That said, the question is somewhat innocent isn't it? There's an assumption that Roman justice could be just and fair. Now I agree there were laws and individuals that we regard as positive, but isn't this a case of looking at Roman justice from our perspective? More revealing might be to see how the Romans themselves saw justice, and inevitably, there's a great deal of dissatisfaction, but at the same time a level of acceptance of the status quo.

In case anyone didn't notice, it's now 2011. That means I haven't written an entry in this blog since last year. Strange... Only seems like a few days since I last typed a message... Oh well, never mind. With the new year the weather has ceased to be quite as frigid as it was prior to christmas. I've even turned the heating off again. Maybe I'm just getting used to living in cold conditions that I can't bear being in a warm room any more, at least not without dozing off every five minutes. But hang on... I am dozing off. Where's all the seasonal festivities? The conga lines wandering down the street? The late night chorus of taunts and chest-thumping displays? The shrieks of party girls for whom anything entering their perception is a reason to recoil in amused horror? Where's the police siren rushing up the up toward Old Town? Darn it... Where's the party? What a damp squib of a new year. Okay, I know someone celebrated the arrival of 2011 because I heard a couple of fireworks going off. I suspect the insidious influence of television. I note that countries around the world seemed to vying for the title of the Worlds Most Extravagant Firework Display award. I wonder who won that? Good reviews of all entrants makes the decision a tough one, especially for someone like me who thinks watching people celebrate on television is sadder than stamp-collecting. All right, I admit it, I haven't helped the situation at all because I too didn't bother. Instead I stayed in and got bored with the thoroughly unispired television schedule. Don't know why I didn't emerge from my cocoon as I might of done once. Perhaps my current poverty dissuaded me? Or perhaps, like everyone else, I'm just getting bored with the same old expectations. Therefore my New Years Resolution is to do something unexpected this year. Stay tuned for developments as they occur. Bonfire Having said all that, I notice some of the prisoners at Ford Open Prison have rioted and set fire to the buildings in a frenzy of drink related arson. At least they wanted to party. On the other hand though it hasn't escaped my attention that the people who wanted to party were banged up in jail, the violence precipitated by a crack-down on booze found inside the wire. A New Year To Play With Glancing out the window I can see the clouds losing a battle to dominate the weather. Here and there the blue sky, a pale winter blue, is making itself felt. What a good omen.

It coincided with the general decay of Roman legions in the 4th century. In fact, prior to the widespread adoption of the spatha by infantry, there had been a trend toward a shorter sword used in an increasingly florid manner, a parallel with swordplay in the arena, though it isn't clear who was copying who, so we can regard that as a fashion in fighting style in cultural terms. Regardless of the cutting edge, the deployment of a legion in tight formation precluded the 'swing' as a means of attack because you had no room to do that, as the sword was restricted to a narrow gap between shields. Of course the reality is that Roman formations weren't always going to be parade ground perfect, especially in the midst of a bloody melee, but we can be fairly sure that human nature and training will out thus the Romans kept a close proximity to each other, for psychological reasonsas much as practicality, and thus as Polybius tells us, the strict regime of being taught to thrust exclusively prevailed. It is interesting that Livy tells us something different about the swordplay of his time. He says that Romans were swinging swords as much as thrusting with them. Perhaps that's a dramatic description rather than a real appraisal of combat, but it certainly conforms to evidence of shortening sword length in imperial times which actually required more nerve and skill to fight effectively, and the reduction of the centurionate and training standards in the fourth century precipitated the adoption of the spatha by men who preferred to keep the enemy at arms length. One might also point at the increasing foreign influence in legions and wonder if the former barbarian soldier was more comfortable with swords of a length he was accustomed to. It is important to realise then that although the sword length went from very short to much longer very quickly, the style of swordplay hadn't changed to a great degree. However, the use of a longer sword in a swing dictates you must have the room to do that, requiring looser formations and less formation discipline. We know the centurionate declined as a guarantor of traditional methodology (one of its primary purposes) from the civil wars that led to Constantines reign, and Vegetius informs us in the De Re Militaris that the strength and substance of Roman legions had gone. This phenomenon might be depicted as a symptom of success. Whilst Rome fought border wars on a continuing basis and thus retained some body of experience, the influence of the Pax Romana was to introduce an element of anachronistic style, fashion, and perhaps even public expectation of how Roman soldiers ought to fight. This might seem hard to reconcile in the modern day, but bear in mind that many Romans had no experience of the legions. There was no media revealing the true gritty nature of soldiering and the bloody aftermath of battle. Cicero for instance lauded the arena for showing ordinary Romans how a man, even one reduced to slavery, could show courage, and thus a public is prepared for battle. For these civilian Romans, the only experience of combat was that of the arena, a highly stylised version of fighting for entertainment, and I suspect an element of fantasy became part of the aura that surrounded the legion for those with little direct contact with them, and thus the increasingly florid style of swordplay with ever shorter blades is imposed on the legions until the will to confront had withered and a measure of circumspection by legionaries reasserted itself.

What a gloomy day. It just is. Waking up this morning after the christmnas season is a test of resolve to begin with without a grey, drab day to persuade you that sleeping in is a better idea. News From The Drab Grey Town Despite appearances to the contrary, a quick survey of the newspaper headlines reveals an armed robbery on a newsagent in Pinehurst. That area is one of the three 'P's of Swindon (Pinehurst, Penhill, and Park), our local sinkhole estates that taxi drivers refused to deliver to last year, so the fact a crime was committed there isn't suprising. What is worrying is the fact the robbers were armed. Okay, it does happen in Britain sometimes, but it's still unusual. Help On The Streets For revellers who lose their footwear in a drunken binge, or perhaps those having their trainers nicked in a well rehearsed armed robbery, I see that street pastors will be handing out flip-flops to help the unsteady go home. What's the point? Any party girl capable of losing her high heels (and they do, regularly, as I see Cinderella's lost shoe on the street every week - poor girl simply cannot find Prince Charming at all) is more than capable of losing a rubber sandal. What self respecting party girl would resort to such ghastly unfashionable footwear? They don't even have printed leopard skin patterns. Besides, they always move in gangs of five. Getting home at night? That's what friends are for. Statistic of the Week An amazing statistic has come to my attention. Apparently there are ten million people in Britain alive today who will reach the age of a hundred. With the countries finances wobbling and the pension crisis making retirement a thing of the past, I can't help wondering if the government are secretly making sure we all survive into our centennial year so we remain fit, healthy, tax payers until we drop. The person I feel really sorry for is the Queen. Poor woman now has to stay in office until she's one hundred and fifty so all these centennials receive their telegram from her. Still, keeps the old girl busy, doesn't it? I mean, what's the alternative? Most OAPs will be stacking shelves in supermarkets. Then again, she could always work on a sex-line answer service, making suggestive conversation to thrill the sexually challenged. Can't wait.