caldrail

No. Whilst the adoption of a standing army made the process easier from a military point of view, the 'doom' of the Republic was due to political and societal changes. Some people view the arrival of the Principate as a sudden event. I don't. Whereas it only became a formality when Augustus grabbed the reins, the culture of imperialism had been growing for a century earlier. Arguably the permanent legions were a catalyst toward change in that armed force was always a threat to established power, but in fact it was the weakness of the Senate and the strength of the Roman world, then without parallel in tems of military resources, were able to open up new territories for the greedy and ambitious. As Polybius predicted, Rome had reached the point of realising it could flex it muscles relatively safely. It took a disaster like AD9 for them to realise they weren't invincible.

Ah yes. If there is no neighbour to hear it, does the door rattle? That question has been debated by philosophers ever since the door was invented. I must err on the principle that the rattle is a natural consequence of impacts between brass components of the door handle resulting from vibration caused by heavy vehicles thundering up and down the hill outside, since sound is merely a vibration transmitted to the ear, a sensory adaption allowing us to interpret those vibrations as annoying rattles. In other words, I hear rattles because I'm designed to. I must therefore blame God, because he claims the patent on our design. We are after all paying the price of the apple of knowledge. If Man was intended to have door handles, he would have made them as vibration-suppressant and a non-rattling material. Sadly, I've just let the idea out of the bag, and by now, some avaricious capitalist is wringing his hands in joy at the possibility of extracting cash from our pockets in return for noiseless door handles. Only

After the last two days of dull wetness, this morning was a welcome relief. The sun is shining, the skies are blue, and before I get too lyrical about how wonderful the british weather is right now, it's also very chilly out there. Today is a day for relaxing. It shouldn't be really, seeing as it's a normal working day in the middle of the week (most wednesdays are, for those who haven't spotted that curious fact), but it just feels as if it should be. However, the gleeful warnings of impending doom have been issued from the television weather people. The next few days show great swathes of blue contours sweeping across Britain and with it lots and lots of rain. Don't be too suprised if tomorrows blog entry is entitled "Drowned Rats". Out Shopping There comes a time in a mans life when he must, simply must, obtain new underwear. I have finally reached that milestone in my life. I think I reached it once or twice before, but thankfully I wasn't permanently traumatised. So I popped into the department store I knew from my work placement, as I also knew their prices were reasonable and that they were likely to understand what I was talking about when I gave up the search for the necessary item and asked one of their staff for assistance. As it turned out, I spotted a familiar face, Miss G, and immediately I made a beeline for her so I could ask her where to find men's underpants. It would save me a lot of hassle you see. She looked at me approaching with her usual "Oh God no, not him!" expression. I deserve it really. I used to tease her a lot and to this day I don't think the poor girl understood why. Anyway, I asked her where I could find men's underpants. Ordinarily that might seem a strange thing to say to an attractive young lady, but she merely directed me to the basement. I found my underpants, she was free to go doing shop assistant stuff without any teasing from me, and all was well. Life goes on. New Coat OF Paint The old cinema across the road from the library has received some attention lately. After a long spell as a bingo hall, it now has a brand new logo bolted to the wall in big black letters upon a fresh coat of white paint. Where it once displayed "Mecca", the name of the bingo chain who ran the premises, it now says "Meca". Either there's been some commercial rebranding going on, or the state of British educatiion has finally fileterd down to the heady and exciting world of bingo hall management.

We can't because the forum rules say so As it happens, people do that routinely. In fact, by making direct comparisons, the temptation to paint the Romans in modern colours is distorting the picture. It is true there are parallels, for no other reason that the Romans were human beings too, and despite differences in culture some elements of behaviour are bound to be similar. However, there is an assumption about the Roman legions that isn't supported by archaeological or anecdotal evidence. In Life In Roman Britain, Joan Alcock describes the legion as "An efficient fighting machine". That's a common statement and one based on reputation and the idea that a persistent and detailed organisation implies certain kinds of behaviour. I won't contest the Romans were organised. They obviously were, at least in terms of organisation, but apart from unit affiliation and provision of duty, how organised were they? Note this extract... Certain soldiers are gramted by their conditions of service some exemption from the heavier fatigues. These are men such as surveyors, the medical officer, medical orderlies and dressers, ditchers, farriers, the architects, pilots, shipwrights, artillerymen, glassfitters, smiths, arrowsmiths, coppersmiths, helmet-makers, wagon-makers, roof-tile-makers, swordcutlers, water engineers, trumpet-makers, horn-makers, bow-makers, plumbers, blacksmiths, stone-cutters, lime-burners, woodcutters, and charcoal-burners. In the same category are usually included butchers, huntsmen, keepers of sacrificial animals, workshop officers, attendants, clerks who give instruction, clerks responsible for monies left on deposit, clerks responsible for monies left with no heis, orderly room staffs, grooms, horse trainers, armoury officers, the herald and the trumpeter. Digest (Tarentus Pateernus) At first glance this seems like an astonishing depth and breadth to legiomnary life. However, notice that in most cases, these are civilian trades already known to the individual. The legions did not train people in all of these tasks, and for many, the jobs listed are little more than specific but menial duties that aren't actually required on a day to day basis. Instead, they are listed as Immunes, trades or posts for which the lucky holder can avoid onerous labour. The point is that many of these are of exaggerated importance. Excuses to sit on their backsides in some cases. Also notice that the treatment of these individuals mirrors that of the villa system. Skilled slaves are given specific duties and kept from hard labour. Did this attitude of skiving and bribing really produce an efficient military machine? We have letters like one recovered from Vindolanda, asking for underpants and demanding to know why their beer ration hasn't arrived. We have accounts, like those of Tacitus recounted earlier, or the insights provided by Josephus. Josephus is mostly quoted for the famous line that "Their drills were bloody battles, and their battle were bloody drills". It does suggest an aggressive and grim determination in conflict, which was exactly what the Romans wanted from their legions. However, Josephus also tells us how dull witted and clumsy Roman soldiers could be in their business. Whilst engaged on siegeworks, Roman soldiers leave their weapons too far away, and an ambush by zealots results in chaos, one instance nearly causing the death of Titus himself. For all their 'traditional military discipline' as Drusus described it, it was quickly thrown off. Note also how Josephus gives an account of Roman looting, when legionaries are let off the leash deliberately by their commanders, effectively out of control for three days. Notice how quickly discipline evaporates in Pannonia and Germania. We aren't dealing with people raised and educated in the modern world. Roman soldiers were largely superstitious and ignorant people for whom a life of soldiering was a good alternative. It is true they had a great many artisans and trades in their number, which they exploited as much as the trader exploited to ensure an easier life. We cannot discount the endemic corruption, the fleeting nature of their uncompromising discipline in both peace and war, nor that evidence the Romans have left us that condradicts the image of an efficient Roman military.

My neighbour was not happy. He left for work this morning by slamming the door, which results in the house moving slightly. Seriously, it does, you can actually feel the movement caused by air pressure. Not only that, but passing lorries on the road outside make the house shake. Worse still, the vibration causes my bedroom door to rattle, and that, I suspect, is what kept my neighbour awake and got him all riled up. Even my usual strategem of wedging a plastic bag under door made no difference. The brassy rattle kept on sounding. As it happens, I do have some sympathy. It kept me awake too. Rushing About Another rainy day. This morning I got up a little late and realised to my horror that I'd forgotten to fill in my jobsearch booklet last night. Why is it that when you're in a hurry, the human bladder refuses to empty? Come on! Come on!.... So I rushed down to the Job Centre braving the nasty weather. Thankfully the rain wasn't that heavy, but it certainly wasn't fun. Then again, attendance at the Job Centre never is. Some claims advisors really don't like happy claimants. It's a sign that life is too easy and they start all sorts of machinations to wipe that smile off your face. On the plus side, I was rescued this morning. A good natured claims Advisor, Mr T, has taken me onto his caseload again. I have to say he's polite, helpful, and doesn't display the wicked satisfaction many advisors show when their customer is squirming under scrutiny. talking of which, I'm die to be placed under scrutiny shortly. An interview with Customer Compliance no less. Do I really need to describe what's going to happen? According to Mr T, a few claimants have had their money stopped already. Nothing to worry about, he tells me. Big Bangs I hear on the news that the Hadron Collider in Switzerland has succcesfully recreated little 'big bangs'. Actually it didn't. It simply reproduced for a brief instant conditions that existed moments after the Big Bang had happened. Not that I'm worried of course, but creating a new Big Bang isn't likely to teach us much, because the last one caused an explosion whose debris is now spread across countless light years of space. Funny thing really. I spent my childhood living under the threat of soviet nuclear missiles, now I live under the threat that some scientist might light a bigger firework than he intended. I wonder? Is all this quantum research going to do anything useful? Like cure the rattle on my bedroom door?

The organisation of large crowds of men at a battlefield is not like playing chess. Without clear understanding of what was required, an army was not likely to deploy or behave as the commander would wish. Control over men has always been an issue in warfare, not just because of the practilicaties of communication in very trying circumstances, but also because human psychology lends itself toward rage and panic. The Romans decided very early on to err on the side of practicality. They wanted a simple, direct, brutal means of conducting a battle that diod not risk confusion unnecessarily. No system is perfect, and the Romans in fact were only dominating the battlefield (despite their reputation in modern eyes) when they dictated what tactics were to be used. Roman tactics were not sophisticated. It relied on discipline, a martial spirit, and blood and guts victory more often than not. Assets like cavalry and archers were handy to have around, but required specialist training the Romans didn't spend much time on. As regards Adrianople, it's iompossible to say whether the battle plan was any good because we don't know what it was. All we know is that their army turned up after a march and made a very ragged attempt to deploy, and one section of the line arrived late. Notice also the confusion. No-one in the Roman line appears to know exactly what was going on. In fact, the batle started because the late arriving Romans spooked the goths and reacted as if the battle had begun. Sebastianus had from the start attempted to persuade Valens that his raiding tactics were more likely to succeed. Apparently he was right. Even Zosimus records that heads were being sent to Constantinople on a daily basis, and I note that the goths had begun foraging in a large armed mass to survive Roman ambushes. In other words, the goths were becoming wary, not to mention a little desperate. Unfortunately the Romans were overly concerned with internal politics. Sebastianus was not well liked and his attempts to curry favour with Valens not only annoyed the Emperor himself, but many of his courtiers, and there was a lot of sniping in high places going on. Whilst it was possible that Sebastianus might have eventually forced the goths to negotiate by his preferred tactics, Valens wanted a victory. With his position growing insecure, Sebastianus began persuading Valens that a battle now rather than later was a good idea. It meant valens would not have to share the glory with Gratian, the western emperor. It also defused some of the sniping that was going on. As we now know, the Romans severly underestimated the numbers of goths likely to be present. They had thought they would outnumber the goths handsomely and I suspect, were a little over confident because of it. That doesn't mean their plan was bad as such, but rather that it was based on assumption, and ancient warfare was all about pulling the wool over the enemies eyes. Anything to gain an advantage before you begin. Nonetheless, the Roman army collapsed the moment the gothic cavalry appeared, and found itself herded into a disordered mass surrounded by gothic warriors. Whatever command and control existed had evaporated - but that wasn't the first time the Romans had experienced this phenomena. One intrinsic property of the Roman system was the direct command of the centurion, and notice that by the time of Adrianople, the centurionate had withered and with it an essential component of Roman success in leadership and discipline. To some extent that's true. Remember though that Roman warfare relied on hand to hand melee, and in those circumstances, there's always a certain allowance for whatever morale, fighting spirit, and leadership that happens to be present. it's never a sure thing. That said, the training imparted to Romans of that period did have beneficial effects on their abaility to fight in the line - and that's one major reason for Roman success. The other major reason was that they liked to dictate how and where the battle was fought - that requires a measure of planning. The problem with using Vegetius as a template for Roman training is that he was referencing methods used over hundreds of years. Not all legions did everything he writes about all the time. Whilst we know the Romans did have military training manuals (they gave some to the Britons to help them defend themselves when they left in the 5th century) there is no mention of any formal and fixed training regime at any point in Roman military history. It was all done ad hoc and according to the preferences of the legion command. Because they adopted methods either learned by experience and familiarity with their enemies, who were themselves more sophisticated than the Romans about battlefield command. I cannot stress this enough - the classic Roman legion was not necessarily as sophisticated as we might imagine. Certainly it was well organised, but if you look closely, there's a sort of bored indifference that emergences from archaeological finds. Up to half a legion might be excused duty or on holiday when employed on garrison. It was too bothersome to keep finding small tasks for soldiers to occupy their time, and civil engineering projects like aqueducts or roads were always undergoing construction and requiring cheap labour. In other words, the Roman army was in a process of change, adaption, involved in a sort of arms race to ensure their armies could meet their enemies on at least equal terms. That was part of the problem with the older legions - they had been superceded, and the reforms in the late empire were part of this process, changing the Roman army from an assault force to a security force to defend borders and keep territory safe from internal and external threats rather than marching into their territory to crush the threat at source. That represents a real sea-change in Roman thinking. Instead of the former military pride and martial spirit, the Romans had become somewhat defensive. The survival and prosperity of the byzantines must have affected their outlook as well.

The wind is blowing. The rain is falling. What a horrible morning! Solo Music A couple of nights ago the BBC had a bit of a Robert Plant fest. Concentrating mostly on his solo career after Led Zeppelin, it was a curious tale of musical experiment including a hilarious commercial phase in the eighties. I've had some respect for his efforts in the past - Slow Dancer from the album Pictures At Eleven has always been a personal favourite among many - but I wasn't aware of the variety of music he'd been responsible for. In a sense, I'm walking a similar path right now. I don't mean that I want to sound exactly like him, because that isn't possible and in any case, I have no wish to set up a tribute band, but in the sense that I now have an opportunity to explore music, to express ideas lurking in my subconcious rather than fitting in with well established genres. In fact, the programs couldn't have been timed any better. Not so much inspired, perhaps, as morale restored. My circumstances mitigate against creativity, and bearing in mind I was never a productive lyricist to begin with, creating an album is not going to be a sudden explosion of creative effort. I don't think that matters. After all, it's been twenty years since I was seriously involved in music and despite my tongue-in-cheek rock god status, I was never that well known to begin with. My album won't be an exercise in profit, but rather a statement, and I actually do believe it's right I approach it that way, regardless of how well it does in the marketplace. My Greatest Rock Star Moment Today I entered the job centre office for my daily signing, and with the place almost devoid of anyone in attendance on this dreary horrible morning, almost every claims advisor turned to look at me. The funny thing is there's sometimes a moment when you make some strange kind of impact, for no discernable reason. Today was like that. No-one commented, or said anything, they simply looked up and watched me arrive. Today however was not the most notable occaision that I arrived with celebrity style attention. You would think, given my experience as a performing artist, that something like that happened going on stage. I wish. No, despite some very succesful and somevery well attended gigs, my greatest rock star moment was very modest. It happened in Wootton Bassett, during the early years of of Red Jasper. The band were meeting at a pub for a discussion over a pint (or several) and as I came in, the whole pub, packed with weekend revellers, went silent and stared at me as if to say "Who's that? Who is he?" Unless this has ever happened to you, it's impossible to describe how it feels. You're there, and something important is going on, no matter how insignificant it would ordinarily be. For that short moment, I was important in some subtle way. Sigh. The claims advisor has signed me off and tells me I can go away. Fame is so fleeting...

The German tribes cooperated better in the 4th century. To say they were a civilised state is an exaggeration. In fact, it was Roman influence that brought the German tribes together despite the policy of divide and conquer. You might consider that the Romans had in fact suffered a loss in terms of propaganda and politics. As for the oriental armies, I agree, they were well organised. A nice website here... http://www.iranchamber.com/history/parthians/parthian_army.php http://www.iranchamber.com/history/sassanids/sassanian_army.php Bear in mind the difficult terrain that the Romans and Persians faced each other across. Largely arid and relatively empty. For a large army to cross and fight at the other end was a major effort. TYrajan was a success in this respect, having reached the Caspian Sea, but notice that his successor Hadrian gave it back, partly as a political nicety to ensure the persian king did not go to war as he was threatening to (and his daughter was returned to him as well), but also because there was very little about that territory that held any real appeal to the Romans, never mind the difficulty of ruling an area that large.

That's a darn good question. I'm not aware of any significant mutiny in the Roman navy, but that doesn't mean it didn't happen.

No. There were many reasons for the defeat at Adrianople. it is true that unit quality had declined. So had the ability of commanders to lead armies in battle. These are attested to in our sources. Marcellinus emphasises how the Romans got their act together - which is stretching the point because whilst they did fight off the goths until dark, they still ran away at the first chance and remained disordered and contained. Zosimus on the other hand is scathing, describing the Romans as effeminate. The truth lies somewhere between. To say the Romans had lost their ability to command large armies is overstating the problem. They had however become very bad at it. Valens knew that already, which was why he removed Trajan (general, not emperor) from his post and brought Sebastianus in by virtue of his reputation. For his part, Sebastianus blew it. He was so concerned with his career that Valens got fed up of him, realising Sebastianus was exaggerating in his reports. Realising that Valens had sussed him, Sebastianus changed tack and persuaded Valens to meet the Goths at Adrianople ahead of Gratians reinforcements. The point here is that the Romans were overly concerned with politics, and combined with poor intelligence the plan to meet the Goths was not based purely on military terms. In terms of centuries, please realise that the Romans did not organise their armies in the field as we do today. In the classic era, the period that colours our opinions, the cohort was a formation that did what it says on the tin - "Mutual support". It wasn't named that for nothing. A single man on the battlefield can only handle a certain number of men in battlefield conditions before it becomes impossible and chaos ensues. The Romans, by experience, found around a hundred was the limit. The cohort existed for the centuries to support each other, and note that for that to make sense, there must be a measure of local initiative from centurions, which is exactly what our sources are telling us. However, cordinating support amongst groups of eighty men in close proximity is one thing. Coordinating the efforts of a larger army, stretching into the distance, composed of disparate units, is another altogether. Because the Romans did not employ a formal messaging system (no-one mentions it at all), armies fought according to predetermined orders more often than not. To change an armies disposition required considerable urgency and effort. The Romans already knew this. That was why they preferred a local command emphasis. It made more sense to them. That's all very well, but we also have to realise that the old days were gone. The legions were smaller, more specialised, less practised in formal warfare as opposed to the raiding style they had grown accustomed to. Our sources tell us the veterans were reluctant fighters - a point often overlooked - and that Sebastianus selected the best of the novices for his elite raiders, simply because they were keen and ready to fight. Valens had to make speeches at Melanthia to persuade his army to go to war - it wasn't simply a matter of issuing orders. As for training, it wasn't close to what it had once been. De Re Miltaris (Vegetius) is often hailed as a manual of what the Romans did to train their troops, but what the book is about is suggesting what the Romans ought to be doing, based on practises used in former times. Don't make the mistake of assuming that there are necessarilty simple and clear cut reasons for an event turning out the way it did. Adrianople was the result of a series of factors that led to the Roman defeat. For an army composed of veterans, supposedly well trained and experienced, note that they arrived on the battlefield in a somewhat disorganised manner, displayed a lack of coherent command, and failed utterly to react in a disciplined manner when the gothic cavalry launched their ambush. Only later, when it became obvious that it was a matter of time before they were slaughtered, did the Romans rally and fend off the Goths, escaping with two thirds of their army lost.

hard to say. There is something in the human psyche that responds to a strict definition of status, on the basis that everyone knows their place, and to allow the promotion of poorer classes does erode that. In fact, it does illustrate a certain erosion of Roman culture altogether, since the promotion of a lowly individual would mean they would ascend to a higher status on retirement. Earned by their military career, one would assume, but all the same an increasingly egalitarian Rome must have 'softened' as part of the societal balance. As for the concept that officers promoted through the ranks would have been preferable, that's impossible to say. It actually depends more on the qualities on the individual concerned. An officer from a low birth may have been hated or respected - both are equally possible. As for the idea that a soldier could be 'only a centurion', bear in mind how influential centurions were. They were a class of junior officer who were responsible for leadership, discipline, and taking the fight to the enemy. If you look closely at the development of the legion, the centurionate takes on another aspect. These men were also acting as a sort of 'tribal chief', each with a retinue of soldiers under their sway, and we know that Roman soldiers were sometimes unwilling to accept orders from centurions other than their own. Also, becoming a centurion opened up doors in later life, and notice also how centurions were sometimes given territorial responsibilities in garrison duty, acting as Roman officials. As far as I know, the change in unit organisation was to meet the changing tactical requirements of security in the empire. The need for large heavyweight armies had gone, largely because the Romans weren't fighting large battles much any more, and also because raiding tactics employed by hostiles on the borders mitigated against unwieldy formations. In fact, the dispersion of forces around provincial areas led to a great deal of annoyance to local populations, who often became respsonible for billeting these men and suffered their bad behaviour. If anything, it encouraged a rebellious attitude and I do note that toward the end communities were seeking every opportunity to opt out of the tax system, partly because the costs of supporting a large defensive military were proving too much, but also because communities were questioning what they got for their money. It had more to do with ensuring political security and devolving Roman government into the tetarchy in an attempt to increase efficient rule. It's interesting that you suggest this, but I don't have any specific reason to believe you're right. Soldiers are as likely to be manipulated as anyone else. If an influential individual claims that rebelling is necessary, and worse still, claims divine right in doing so, any assumption of divinity in the established government is soon forgotten. After all, legions had always been ostensibly loyal to the emperor since the time of Augustus, but the loyalty of the men was always going to be more focused on their leaders who provided for their welfare in many ways far more than some distant emperor. The only real change in Roman behaviour regarding the military and christian belief that I'm aware of was a growing reluctance for men to serve, based on religious objection, and if anything, the minor upsurge in executions of refuseniks was not likely to inspire christian soldiers to loyalty toward those who punished their beliefs. Good question. I'm not sure, as it happens, because that's not an era I know much about. I get the impression rebellions were much rarer in byzantine times. Might be worth reading up on it. I do note a stronger loyalty to the emperor in byzantine times. Even the suggestion that a man was acting against the throne resulted in one guy receiving one of the most cruel and theatrical executions I've read about.

I've seen information like this mentioned in passing in one or two books on prehistory of the British Isles at my local library. I can't give any specific references without a search for it. In fact, the info really is in passing. None of the authors goes into any detail but it does raise a lot of questions about ancient Ireland. Without the Roman connection, or the lack of written record, the ancient history of the Irish receives little attention. Noticeably, there was a considerable drop in population during the Iron Age, restored partly by prosperous trade with Roman England over the centuries, which does underline the Roman finds in Ireland as being sale goods or belongings of refugees rather than signs of latin colonisation, which has no tradition in Ireland.

She couldn't wait. With a mischievious smirk my mother asked if I'd heard about the latest government initiative for the unemployed. I hadn't, as it happened, but I understand that long term claimants are now going to be required to work four weeks on placement to qualify for benefits. Actually I'm not that bothered. I did thirteen weeks of that earlier this year, so it's just more of the same to me. The point though in this case is that my mother couldn't wait to push a pin into my little bubble. She relishes every chance for that. There are other weapons in her arsenal. Family successes are thrust in front of me too. This week a cousin was part of the line up in a photograph of the staff of a highly rated school in some newspaper or other. The idea being that I feel envious of how well other members of our family are doing while I'm clearly not. Every time I visit she mentions how tall I'm getting. That's nonsense of course. I'm the same height I was thirty years ago, but the point here is belief. She wants me to believe what she tells me. The moment I say "Yes, I am getting taller", she wins another victory, and she'll start suggesting all sorts of things safe in the knowledge I won't argue. So the siege of my self-esteem goes on. All part of her master plan to turn me into a Jesus creep. My mother has this mental image of what she wants me to be. She denies it, of course, but for the last thirty years she hasn't given up, believing blindly that one day my lack of success will make me realise that my spirituality is the cause of my misfortune, and that going to church on a sunday, wearing the clothes she prefers me to, having an accountant hairstyle, and all the other sundry requirements are going to make me successful. Rubbish. She's a manipulative old woman who thinks she knows better than everyone else. The christian idea that worshipping God turns you into a success is actually bending a Commandment to the point of catastrophic failure. After all, wasn't it Jesus who said "A rich man has no more chance of entering the Kingdom of Heaven than a camel has of passing through the eye of a needle"? Does faith reward the faithful with material success? That seems a very dubious concept, but then, that's been the christian message since the 1st century. In any case, I have other beliefs. I don;'t accept Jesus was anything other than a typical cult leader who got himself executed for undesirable activity. God is a human concept, not an absolute truth. Nor for that matter do I accept the existence of the retinue of supernatural entities invented by christians in times gone by. Fate is the sum of all decisions and natural forces. The breakdown of my career and personal affairs happened the moment I declared myself a spiritualist. That's not divine intervention. That's malice and spite. Pressure Is On The news of the government initaitive to make long term claimants worjk for their money isn't a new idea. That's been mooted around for a long time. Only now, when the country is in debt to desperate levels, has the will to enforce that idea emerged. That's only the tip of an iceberg. The mood in job centres has changed. Driven by a messianic need to uncover the workshy and dole cheat (not to mention earning brownie points at head office by doing so) the red tape involved in job searching has gone up a notch. Previously my job search booklet was enough, a simplistic table in which to scrawl a quick record of each step I've taken. Now I have to enter the same information again on a form designed to catch people out. It'll get worse. The dreary routine of searching, applying, and receiving rejection is bad enough but the pressure to prove that you are doing what you claim will get steadily worse as the most obvious cheats are unmasked and the temptation to find scapegoats increases. For now I shall have to grin and bear it. Sorry Jesus, but the castle gates are shut, the walls are stout, and I'm not in any danger of starving. Besides, I'm content with my spirtuality. I don't need yours.

And cause gatherings of woolly hats in tents outside your door if you own one.

Probably not. Climatic changes in the Bronze Age had resulted in extensive deforestation, The Romans were a consumer economy in imperial times, not agrarian, although farming was obviously an important factor. Agriculture was only important on a local level unless it generated profit, or an identifiable regional export. Since there was plenty of land to be had, the importance of it wasn't so pronounced as today. They did colonise Germania. The remains of Roman towns have been uncovered well inside the generally accepted frontier and appear to have been abandoned following the victory of Arminius. The whole sorry debacle was sparked by Augustus sending Varius to gather taxes, a man known for his greed, which illustrates that wilderness colonisation was not about ownership of land, or high minded cultural principles, but rather a matter of bringing barbarians into the taxation system. All emperors were worried about their security. Rome was a competitive society full of ambitious upwardly mobile individuals who were waiting to sieze opportunities. The size of Ireland was largely irrelevant. What was of concern was a victorious army returning to Rome. With booty and success, the soldiers would have been loyal to their general, not the emperor, thus Domitian avoided the possibility of a coup by preventing outright victory in Caledonia. In fact, Agricola was asked if he wanted a triumph for his successes to date. Had he accepted, he would have have labelled himself an ambitious rival to Domitians power, giving Domitian the excuse to have him removed. Agricola wisely refused.

As predicted, the temptation to set off fireworks was too much for the local inhabitants. As damp and dreary an evening as it was, they set to work creating as much mayhem as possible. The early shift started around seven o'clock. I looked out the back window of my home, which has a narrow view across the west of Swindon. Usually on bonfire night one area sets off, finishes, then another begins elsewhere. Not this year. Stretching into the distance was a display of pyrotechnic fountains in all sorts of bright colours, little showers of twinkling light as far as I could see. Given the weather, the effect was extraordinary, and I've never seen that before. Also, some peoples rockets were penetrating the cloud base, and whilst the burst was hidden from view, the cloud lit up with a dull colour briefly, giving a sort of surreal stormy effect. With the window open, I could smell the smoke. In one of the gardens backing onto the alleyway, a family were having their own firework party and the wind was sending the smoke in my direction. Again, it was a surreal thing, watching a bright glow appearing behind the fences and garages like something out of a fifties sci-fi B movie. They're Coming! Talking of things from Outer Space, I see there's an alien invasion planned to conquer our local library shortly. Naturally I will be there to defend mankind and fend off their fiendish schemes. Luckily I doubt the invasion will require any nuclear response, but given that such weaponry has proven to be futile against alien armour, I shall have to resort to coughs and sneezes. Hey, it worked once before pretty well, didn't it?

Unfortunately the authority of your local lord is handed out by the government and assured by loyalty to the crown, whether he does a good job or not. For me to usurp his seat would be treason against the state. Further, the government are currently cracking down on benefits payments and for me to ask for housing support for a stately home is not politically prudent at this time. Nor likely to be successful. Rest assured, simple village person, that I shall strive to right wrongs wrought by the evil Baron of Clayton and free a couple of your common folk from serfhood as a sort of motivating competition for support. Actually, I do need a herald for this. Do pop down to Clayton Towers and tell him to surrender his fief, will you? You never know...

Agricola didn't think so, and I suspect his military intelligence was better than ours on that subject. A huge demand in men and logistics would be necessary if the Irish were presenting a common front. However, the national patriotism we see today didn't exist back in Agricola's day. To him, the irish were a collection of barbarian tribes, and as the Romans knew from experience, such a setup was relatively easily handled, because the Roman policy in such situations was 'divide and conquer'. However, inasmuch as an invasion of Ireland was going to prove a logistic challenge, then I agree. There is implicit in this debate an idea that the Romans could simply go on conquering to their hearts content, and by implication, that they had every intention of doing so. Despite this, there was no clear impetus for the Romans to seek territory in the way we do. For us, territory is important in itself. With large populations dispersed over wide areas, territory allows (please excuse the term) living space, agricultural space to feed them, and a sense of status. Since in Roman times the vast bulk of territory was empty wilderness, they had little reason to regard territory as important. Instead, they saw value in resources. Mines, quarries, cities, harbours and river networks, places where things were made. In other words, while we see conquest in terms of area, they saw conquest in terms of ownership. We shouldn't forget the over-riding impulse for Roman expansion was money, pure and simple. When Hadrian gave back Dacian territory conquered by Trajan, he kept the bits with gold mines. There is also the idea that the Romans had already reached a psychological frontier where Britain was concerned. Previous to Julius Caesar, the British Isles were thought of as mysterious lands filled with all manner of exotic inhabitants. In making his two landings on British shores, Caesar popped that bubble. At once he proved he was a true conqueror, taking the Romans where no Roman had gone before (which of course wasn't entirely true), but also demonstrating that beyond the frontier was more wilderness, and little else. There are also political reasons. Agricola was recalled to Rome before he completed the conquest of Caledonia by Domitian, who regarded the prospect of a conquering hero returning to Rome in triumph as a rival for his authority, and potentially a very real military threat if he got ideas into his head. Agricola was a little more wary and realised the danger he was in, preferring not to make a big deal of his success and live happily ever after. Notice that Claudius, who had ordered the conquest of Britain, had travelled there to receive the honour of victory personally. How many emperors were willing to travel to Ireland to do that? Conqueror of what, exactly?

This weekend is going to be noisy. Today is after all Guy Fawkes Day, when we celebrate a plot to blow up the British government hundreds of years ago. Given how sensitive the authorities are to security issues right now, I'm probably going to be arrested for this blog entry. The weather is not encouraging. It's a damp morning, grey and unwelcoming, and I suspect a lot of firework parties tonight will suffer the problems of setting off their noisy and colourful gunpowder fests. That of course won't stop the evening revellers from having a great time. They'll be hooting and whooping, chanting football songs, and shouting taunts all night long. Bless. I did see a bit in the newspapers that police have stated that a large portion of their law enforcement takes place because of nightclubbers wandering around drunk without having found a camel to wake up beside. I mean, wasn't that obvious? Is that the sum total of expertise of law enforcement garnered over the years since John Peel decided truncheons were a good idea? How To Win Friends And Influence Having mentioned fireworks, I was stunned to find my current claims advisor chatting about them in a friendly manner. What? Isn't this the guy who signs me on half an hour late and hardly says a word before he tells me I can go? Amazing what happens when you get shirty and remind a pleb he's talking to nobility (even if it is a little faux) Actually, most claims advisors don't like treating their customers as anything else than people to be bossed around. It's a social status thing. They happen to be employed by a government agency, and possess some authority over us. We on the other hand are lazy good for nothing's who darn well ought to know which side of the bread is buttered. It's been nearly a year since I got my title. Three people have voluntarily used that title in a respectful manner since. Incredible, don't you think? To a large extent that's down to my appearance. I just don't resemble most peoples idea of an upper class person in any sense whatsoever. Partly it's my circumstance, since I'm unemployed and upper class persons aren't supposed to claim benefits, or even work for a living, as John Prescott proved recently. Well, since my claims advisor has decided to be friendly, I'll let him get away with it. Especially since in the not too distant future I might well get my tail feathers singed. Fireworks? There's a lady in the Department of Work and Pensions who has demanded my attendance and proof of identity. Uh oh.

Rest assured this was a supreme effort and today I have reverted to my usual idle condition. I'll be finishing my job searching in an hour or two and that about wraps it up for the day. Still, it's Halloween & Guy Fawkes Day, so the weekend is going to be noisy and pyrotechnical, if not entirely busy!

I did add my two cents worth but so far the Daily Mail seem to be ignoring it. Obviously my answer didn't have enough sex and violence in it.

Sometime around dawn this morning I woke knowing my day was going to busy. Normally at this time I groan, roll over, and go back to sleep. Today I don't have that luxury, so it's out of bed - Gah! Cold! - and a quick dash to the bathroom for the daily ritual of turning myself into a human being again. First Now for a stroll down to the Job Centre for my daily signing. They told me to come in at a certain time, but neglected to tell me the place was closed for an hour due to staff meetings. Oh great. Now that's my schedule up the spout. Think, Caldrail, think! What would any normal employed person do in situations like this? Second With time to spare I dropped in on the park and watched the builders cementing new stones along the lake edge. The birds seem all bored of this activity and swim away, convinced that the stingy sweaty humans moving stones around won't have any bread with them. If only they knew... But this is boring. And I need to get on with my day, so... Third A quick stop at the library and book a computer for this afternoon, at the last slot available. There is method in my madness, because... Fourth A quick dash down to Swindon railway station and off to Chippenham, fifteen minutes away, a sort of dingy stone-coloured town where I'm being interviewed for a job. I did actually take an earlier train than I intended and just as well, as the office I needed to visit wasn't well signposted. Wasn't signposted at all. Wasn't even a bold title above the door. I just happened to see the company name in the window. No matter, I found out where they were, and I still have an hour to kill. What can I do in Chippenham on a Wednesday lunchtimne? Fifth One sandwich and a canned drink later, I was sat watching the birds by the river. Still quite a pleasant day, but these birds are ferocious scroungers, not like the polite queues you get at Queens Park. One duck caught a piece of bread and every - I mean every - other bird lunged at it. Swans, pidgeons, ducks, and various other birds I don't know, they all made the poor little duck run the gauntlet. Eventually it swallowed the bread almost whole in a desperate attempt to stay alive. Sorry birds, but I haven't got any spare breadcrumbs. Why is that swan hissing at me? Sixth After escaping the wildlife by the river, it was time for my interview. A very pleasant positive atmosphere and pretty young ladies to chat up. What could be better? Eh? I sign here? The crunch came when the agency boss interviewed me. He looked at my CV and asked me with a frown how long ago it was I drove vans for a living. This is where it gets painful, I admitted, that was twenty years ago. Well that about wraps up this part of my schedule, and before I catch the train home, just one more item to go in Chippenham... Seventh A quick trip over to the Wiltshire History Service building and delve into their archives. Sadly, all I can do is submit requests for stuff to be located in their dark vaults and wait for it to arrive at my desk. Come on, come on, I'm catching a train in half an hour... Sigh. They failed. very friendly people, very willing to help, but nothing moves. No, wait, I saw one of the archivists breathing. No, really, I did. Wish I'd brought my camera to prove it. I apologised to the helpdesk and told them I wouldn't require the requested documents as I was going home. I wonder if First Great Western would delay the train for me? I mean, what use is my title if I can't make very important phone calls? Apparently I'm not that important yet. So I'll have to catch the train. Bye... Eighth So I found myself back at Chippenham railway station waiting for the ride home. An announcer warned that a train was approaching that wasn't schedukled to stop, so stand well back! Good advice. The freight train thundered past me at an alarming rate. English trains might not have the majesty and scale of their American cousins, but they certainly don't hang around. Oh, here we go, that's my train. See you in Swindon. Nineth My return to the library, plus a few pit stops along the way. A magazine here, a baguette there, and another visit to the Job Centre to get advice on what to do if this agency actually comes up trumps. Now I have a rapid search online for jobs and vacancies. There's one. I can do that. There you go, it's applied for. You know what? This multimedia age has some advantages after all. Tenth Made it! Home again, collapsing on the sofa after rushing back and forth across Wiltshire. All I need now is for some crazy old hermit to wander out of the kitchen, check my temperature, and say "Rest easy Son, you've had a busy day".

Most of us do dumb things at times. I used to hear work colleagues confidently claim that they never made mistakes, but they did, one being an attempt to convince the management that they were superior workers. That sort of mistake is due to poor decision making and to some extent, a deliberate risk. The rest of us, sooner or later, foul up. Yesterday I did that magnificently. You see, when I get sent on these courses on how to search for jobs, I'm also obliged to attend a follow up interview. It's mandatory. Failure to attend results in loss of dangly things, not to mention a wad of cash from the government. So what did I do wrong? Well, I sort of half remembered I had an interview scheduled for the Monday, but I couldn't find any letter confirming it. Perhaps I was wrong? Well I turned up at the Job Centre and discovered I was spot on. The interview had been scheduled earlier that day and I forgot it. As an errant joobseeker, a crime against society only surpassed by raising taxes, I was obliged to suffer 'the procedure', in which my feeble excuses are logged and sent for a decision to be made about my claim. Gulp. However, I survived intact. Firstly, I'd turned up for my signing-on session on the same day, and secondly, the lady who condemned me to the interrogation forgot to issue me with a warning letter. So my sentence was commuted to daily signing. Again. Talking About Jobsearching I've been contacted by an agency regarding a driving vacancy. Apparently I applied for it ages ago in amongst all the other hopeless causes. Then, right out of the blue, they phone me and ask if I'm still interested. I can't actually refuse - that's the disadvantage of being unemployed - so yes, please tell me more. They asked about my experience in that field of work. Well... I did drive the van a lot back in my aspiring rock star days, and did the occaisional day doing parcels and multi-drop on an ad hoc basis, subbing in for a mate of mine who wanted the day off to have sex with one of the young ladies at a business he regularly delivered to. He got laid, I got paid. Of course, that was twenty years ago. I mean, am I seriously being considered? I don't have an encyclopedic knowledge of the target area, I'm not quite young and fit as I was, and I haven't driven a vehicle in two years. I have noticed this about courier firms. They have this wonderful optimism about sending employees out into the world in the vain hope they'll arrive at the right place at the right time. I have to confess, twenty years ago I once delivered a parcel to the people who sent it the day before. Can't wait for the chance to make another embarrasing cock-up. That, I know I can do. Weather Or Not? It's been a funny kind of day. Thin stratus cloud and blankets of soft focus raincloud almost obscuring glimpses of the blue sky, but it never quite rained, never quite got warm or cold, never quite did anything other than stir even more yellow leaves on the trees. Should I dress for inclement weather and sweat buckets? Or go out unprotected in true macho style? Why do I get the feeling it isn't going to go to plan....?

The phrase 'overking' is our label rather than an actual rank. Fritigern wouldn't qualify for it anyway, because he wasn't the most senior goth at the time. Athanaric was his rival and the two squabbled - though I do accept that might be a dramatic inclusion to the history since not all Roman sources of the time refer to such a struggle, such that Fritigern had to ask for Roman aid. Athanaric on the other hand was the first foreign king to visit Constantinople, in it's new guise as Roman capital in the east, and concluded a peace agreement that lasted until 395. The Goths were migrants, and in any case, Jordane's Res Getica, a summary of the now lost history of the Goths written by Cassiodorus, describes the goths as having kings for some time. The problem is that we understand the emergence of kings in terms of Roman interpretation. To them, kingship was a barbaric or tyrannical foprm of government by a strong ruler, and they used the term somewhat more loosely than we do. It might be worth pointing out then that leaders we refer to as 'kings' were usually no more than tribal chiefs by any other name, and such important personalities often do indulge in creating pecking orders among themselves.

Autumn is making itself felt. Steady streams of yellow and brown leaves are wafting along in the breeze, and it's been threatening to rain all day. You can feel a sort of heavy dampness, an occaisional raindrop, and the trees obey the stimulus in time-honoured fashion. As autumns go, this one is proving to be a bit more colourful that ususal. Don't know why, maybe it's all that fresh CO2 we humans have been making that has invigorated the trees with autumnal splendour? Drive a car today. Make your tree happy. Saturday Night Saturday was a little odd. I've experienced a few saturdays in my time, but this one was different somehow. It felt quiet, as Swindon was having the day off, and I have absolutely no idea why that was the case. Of saturday night was saturday, and that's all right for doing congas in the street. I'm sure they were having a great time but why did they do that outside my home? Everyone seems to. It isn't as if I'm a party animal (though I have my moments). I've had a look but I can't see a "Congas Mandatory After 00:30am" sign anywhere. Or did they take it home with them in drunken delerium.? I do hope so. Because tonight, of all nights, I would like to get some sleep. An Extra Hour! For once in my life I remembered that the clocks went back an hour last night, leaving me with an extra hour of snooze time to enjoy. The endless debate on whether British Summer Time is a good idea rages on, and every year the tv news debates the issue. The same arguments all over again. rather like congas every weekend. Lots of noise and fuss but no-one goes anywhere. A Strange Sight This morning i strolled along the back lanes of Okus. Most of it is nothing more than residential housing, some a little shabby, others renovated and sparkling, usually in unison with the type and polish of the car parked outside. I also happened to pass the housing estate built on the site of the old hospital. Apartment blocks never quite look friendly in the British town, but at least the area has been tarted up with grass verges and young trees. It was almost looking like a pleasant place to live, even if the architecture was a bit cold. Look over the brick wall halfway along and you can see the upper floors of what the estate actually is. Even colder, a festival of bland and angled style that looks more like a shopping centre than a place to live. That said, I turned down an alleyway that leads to what was once an old quarry, now host to a series of flats and houses in somewhat more natural and agreeable repose. Then I noticed a tree by the fence next to me. A silver birch, it's branches lopped off by some maniac tree surgeon, but for all intents and purposes, seeming quite dead. Then I spotted the fungi. Loads of it, forming shelves up and down the trunk, almost camouflaged against a tree the same colour. Perfectly natural of course, but it struck what a rare sight that was. Almost alien, and certainly I've never seen a tree with so much fungo growing on it before. Just thought I'd mention it.