Nephele

Absolutely! For Halloween, your neighbor should show some goofy vampire movie, like The Fearless Vampire Killers. -- Nephele

A free market provides the opportunities -- it is up to the individual to succeed in his business ventures. The words of Plutarch (as quoted by Professor Rabun Taylor and which I provided above) contradict this, suggesting that public contracts in Rome were generally awarded on the basis of competitive bidding and the reputation of the contractor for efficiency and speed. I have no doubt that the Romans were savvy businessmen in this respect. But if you could provide some sources to show that business in Rome was entirely dependent on a contractor's social influence with influential people, I would be very interested in reading this. It may be that a combination of the two -- influence and competence -- was required. But I'm inclined to believe that competence more often than not would have held sway. And, of course, for a contractor, merchant, or anyone else in the trades, what could have greater influence on a potential customer than one's reputation for competence? -- Nephele

Oops, I think I may have read your original posting on the hemicyclium too quickly, and misunderstood. Sorry! The one you eventually have carved is going to be magnificent, I'm sure -- and I'd like to see a picture of that one when it's done! Okay, here's that other book I'd mentioned, Faustus, that may interest you: Roman Builders: A Study in Architectural Process, by Rabun Taylor (Assistant Professor of History of Art and Architecture at Harvard University). There are several sections in the book that mention ancient Roman contracts and contractors, but in his introduction to the book Taylor differentiates between the simplest building contract type in Roman law, called the stipulatio, and the more, complex, general Roman practice of the standard type of public building contract, called the locatio conductio. An example of the simple stipulatio is given in the form of Cato the Elder's arranging for the construction of a villa, with the price "calculated not by labor, or even by materials, but simply by counting the number of roof tiles used on the building at one sestertius per tile. This contract appears to open-ended. There is no deadline; a season of work presumably sufficed." (Although, in his notes, Taylor states that deadlines could nevertheless be set in a stipulatio.) "No price is fixed, only the formula for calculating it. The tile count and calculation were undertaken after completion by disinterested assessors (mensores), described by the agricultural writer Columella as 'those who measure structures after they have been built and reckon up the cost of the finished work by applying a method of calculation.' The stipulatio remained a popular form of private contract, but its weaknesses -- especially with regard to timely completion -- are well documented in the legal sources." In contrast to the private stipulatio, Taylor cites the late second century BCE Puteoli contract as an example of the more complex, public building contract, the locatio conductio: "It gives a deadline for the conclusion of work. It calls for surety from the contractor against failure to complete the project properly, and it specifies terms of payment -- in this case, half the total sum when the estates of the sureties were registered, the other half upon completion. The sum itself is also specified in this document." Taylor also describes in this section the ancient Romans' bidding process for public contracts, citing Plutarch, who wrote: "When they give public notice of intent to let contracts for the building of temples or colossal statues, listen to the proposals of artists competing for the commission and bringing in their estimates and models, and then choose the man who will do the same work with the least expense and better than the others and more quickly." Sounds familiar, regarding the way we do things today. -- Nephele

That's brilliant! Thanks for posting that picture! I don't think I'd seen one of those before, and you carved that yourself? I think I've got another book that pertains to ancient Roman contractors for you, but it's at work. I'll hunt it out later and post here about it. -- Nephele

Mr Bond said the costumes, based on characters such as fairies and witches, would still promote fun without encouraging antisocial behaviour. What is he thinking??? Fairies are not only extremely antisocial, they're downright sociopathic. Look at Tinkerbell -- she wanted to MURDER Wendy. Seriously, leave it to the prissy, do-gooder adults to suck all the fun out of a holiday that belongs to us kids. (I refuse to grow up.) -- Nephele

Sue, you are a descendant of the wealthy but unfortunate Marcus Obellius Firmus, whose lavish house in Pompeii was destroyed in the tragedy of the eruption of Mt. Vesuvius, 79 C.E. Your nickname cognomen is "Etrusca," indicating your family's pride in their Etruscan origins. Your full Roman name is: Obellia Etrusca = carolsueblythe -yh +ia Welcome to UNRV! -- Nephele

But, what would they be doing, otherwise, if they didn't live in a Free Market state? Those without means to be their own masters will always have to work for others to survive, regardless of where they live. Even in communistic societies, one works for the collective, if not for a single "master." The Free Market is the founding force for freedom because it offers opportunities to become one's own master. Even those lacking in capital or talent to create their own businesses nevertheless have more freedom of choice (in regard to consumer goods and services). -- Nephele

Actually, that would make a great article for you to write, Augusta, with accompanying illustrations. Will you consider doing it? I need those "flash cards" too! -- Nephele

YOU'RE LOCKED UP, TOO! Hahahaha! Flavia Gemina mentions those little winged phalluses in one of her books (The Colossus of Rhodes)! The children characters are given these to wear as protective amulets. Not only is this a highly amusing scene in the book for young readers, but they're bound to remember the word apotropaic ("a Greek word...it means something that turns bad luck away from you") which Flavia includes in the passage. I love books for kids that combine "snicker humor" with education. It's the best way to learn! -- Nephele

Thanks for that distinction, Ursus. Would you happen to have a list of those foreign deities that were officially adopted by Rome? I think Epona was one. Was Isis another? Or did she just have a temple in Rome that was tolerated for a time? -- Nephele

Greetings, Faustus. Have I got a book for you. Check out Vicki Le

That means, come Friday, the first ever mainstream exhibition devoted to sex will be unleashed upon an unsuspecting British public. What took the Brits so long? We've had The Museum of Sex here in NYC (corner of Fifth Avenue and East 27th Street) for years. Hopefully, London's new museum will be inclined to share its exhibits with NYC (and vice versa) as our Museum of Sex frequently gets new exhibits on loan, and last year had an exhibit featuring erotic art from Japan's Edo period (1630-1868). -- Nephele

He's quite an impressive fellow! Thanks, Crispina, for sharing that pic of Gaius Hortensius Frutex! -- Nephele

...for a non english speaker, would that sound something like Seinfeld? (oops, i mean Elaine ) No, I don't sound like Elaine. While the actress who plays Elaine is of Jewish descent, the character of Elaine is a shiksa -- with shiksappeal. I've been told I sound like the character Gracie Hart in the movie Miss Congeniality: "I'm sorry. I had a bite of my bagel and I forgot to pray. Dear Jesus, please forgive me... ...for not praying before I had a bite of my bagel and schmeer. Thank you very much. Amen." -- Nephele

A. N. Sherwin-White, historian and one-time president of the UK's Society for Promotion of Roman Studies, wrote a book that may interest you, MC. It's The Roman Citizenship. Here's an excerpt that appears to answer your questions about how a Roman citizen might have proven his entitlement to certain rights and privileges: Sherwin-White goes on at length, and then comes to what may answer your second question regarding citizens in the more distant provinces, starting with soldiers: I can't imagine anyone other than soldiers actually carrying their citizenship documentation around with them all the time, but perhaps in the provinces even the civilians were expected to have their proof of citizenship handy -- particularly in areas of social unrest where insurgency was a problem. I also imagine that there must have been penalties -- and severe ones, at that -- for false claims of Roman citizenship, considering how proof of Roman citizenship could make a difference between life and death (or, freedom and enslavement) for someone accused of doing something that he shouldn't have been doing. -- Nephele

Gothic Nephele finds his black toga quite fetching, too! Excellent mention, MPC! Now I must anagram a new, gothic name for Cato! M.P.C. Atrocious = M. Porcius Cato Actually, that anagrammed name kind of sounds more rapper than goth... -- Nephele

Dominatrix? Does she have a bullwhip and stiletto heels? Seriously, "The Augusta" is a title itself, carrying dignity and merit. And, inarguably, our Augusta wears it very well. But if I had to pick out something additional, I'd probably choose: "Manchester Maven." For those who don't know what "maven" means, it's Yiddish for: "an expert; a really knowledgeable person; a good judge of quality; a connoisseur." -- Nephele

Excellent thread, indeed! I was waiting for DoL's take on this, and I agree with her statement that what "cancels out" accents bred of locality (as mentioned by GO) tends to be standardized education and central media. Plus, I believe, association with those who speak a certain way also, over time, can eventually cancel out one's home-bred accent. My man was born and bred in Nottingham. But instead of having the same accent shared by his family, he has more of a "BBC accent" -- due to years of mesmerized television viewing which led to him eventually becoming a writer first of television "tie-in's" and later of books in other genres. As for me, I grew up being told I have a "typical New York Jewish accent." But years of association with my British-born man have tempered my accent to the occasional British lilt. And, every time I come back to New York after a stay in England, people tend to remark that I sound "British." But I think that regional accents will become less and less defined, with each new generation. Even now, the "Brooklyn accent" so often spotlighted in old black'n'white gangster movies and screwball comedies, is fading away into obscurity. (As GO also noted in this thread.) I honestly don't remember ever encountering a Brooklynite who actually said "deese" and "dose." Or even: "Go back ta Joisey, ya bum!" (a phrase I taught my man's brother to holler from the car while driving in the city, last time he came to New York for a visit. It was hilarious, hearing him holler that in his clipped, British accent.) -- Nephele

Well, as noted by Mary M. Innes and others, exotic pets were all the rage in ancient Rome, and those critters (such as foxes and ichneumons) certainly didn't take well to domination, either. Innes notes that Martial writes of a number of these exotic pets in one of his epigrams ("If Marius has set his heart on a harmful mischievous ichneumon..."), and Innes describes this popular pet as being "of the same family as the mongoose, though useful for keeping down rats and snakes, does not seem to have been very generally domesticated in Italy." I hesitate to speculate as to why cats were considered so undesirable. Instead, I'll give you a revealing anagram for your lovely "Persian cat," which is: "An epic star." -- Nephele

Thank you. And, yes, they are definitely dogs of ancient Rome. For, an anagram of "miniature pinscher" is: "unchristian empire." -- Nephele

I'm afraid it appears, Augusta, that the ancient Romans didn't have much regard for pussums(es?). I have an article written by classicist Mary M. Innes for the journal Greece & Rome in 1952. Titled "Deliciae Meae Puellae," She writes about the Romans' love of pets, chiefly pet birds of every description, followed by fish, exotics, and dogs. But as for cats... Oh dear. She writes: "One notable omission from the list of pets, common or uncommon, is our ordinary, much loved cat. Though the cat was a sacred animal in Egypt, by the Romans it was despised, feared, and hunted, but not apparently domesticated." Apparently, the poor pussums weren't even cut any slack for mouse slaughter -- the Romans mostly employing domesticated weasels (or ferrets) for that job. Mary M. Innes cites Pliny, who "speaks of two kinds of mustela, one wild, the other which 'lives in our homes, and is constantly carrying its young from place to place, in its mouth', a habit which makes Plautus use them as a symbol of inconstancy; and we have already seen that Petronius mentions a tame mustela as a likely scapegoat in the case of the death of pet birds. Much later, Palladius recommends the use of catti in order to keep down moles. Nowhere, however, do we find affectionate language used of those creatures, such as our modern cat would surely merit..." Those pictures that Flavia provided links to are also mentioned by Innes: "...and the mosaic of a cat, preserved at Naples, bears out this state of affairs, depicting, as it does, a fierce tortoise-shell monster, resembling the wild polecat, rather than the pensive Selima. Wild cats there were in plenty, in Italy, and it is clear that Columella regarded the felis as an enemy and a robber of hen-runs and dovecotes, even as Nemesian considered it a good target for a hunting-spear." But surely even the most ailurophobic Roman would have melted at that picture of your Persian, Augusta. And, not to be outdone, here's a pic of four members of my noble pack of minpins, fearlessly taking down a kitchen intruder,

A fair point, Nephele ... I'll have a look at it! The Avalon documents are quite clear about it. That document you linked from Yale's Avalon Project is dated 1664, and illustrates the "real muddle" that Andrew Dalby was talking about when he wrote: "Much later (maybe 16th/17th century?), the said historical enthusiasts claimed that Jersey had a Roman origin, and thought of the possible link with Caesar." What you linked, G.O., was a 17th century indenture being used as a historical record for New Jersey, merely giving an example of the use of the term "New Caesarea" for "New Jersey" at the time (which in all likelihood was perpetuating a mistaken belief regarding the origin of the name). It wasn't an example of actual research into the etymology of the name "Jersey," itself. -- Nephele

As Kosmo mentioned (and you observed, yourself, FG), the images of the Thracian Hero are plentiful. Perhaps Nora Dimitrova, in her article titled "Inscriptions and Iconography in the Monuments of the Thracian Rider" for the journal Hesperia (April-June, 2002 issue, published by the American School of Classical Studies at Athens) can shed some light on the reason why you found this fellow wielding a snake instead of the customary spear. Dimitrova doesn't specifically describe a Thracian rider wielding a snake, among the reliefs she mentions, but I think she perhaps gives a clue as to why such an odd relief might turn up. Dimitrova attributes this to the mass production of these reliefs, and "the Thracian practice of using a standard image for different divinities." She points out, as an example, reliefs from the area which depict Asklepios holding a serpent-staff, and Hygieia holding a snake, and how duplicates of these reliefs were dedicated to Silvanus and Diana (worshipped by the Romanized population in the region), suggesting that "the original iconography was not overly important to the dedicants: they used an already-made relief showing Asklepios and Hygieia, but invested it with new meaning, thereby satisfying their need for a dedication to Silvanus and Diana. What mattered was only the basic formal resemblance, consisting in the depiction of a male and female deity. A similar phenomenon occurred centuries later, when Thracian rider reliefs were used by Christians in the cults of St. Demetrius and especially St. George." Just a guess, but perhaps the relief you saw might have been one of these originally "mass produced" reliefs of the Thracian rider, and then it was altered slightly to represent some other god associated with serpents (such as Asklepios), by a devotee more creative than those who merely substituted unaltered images to represent other gods? -- Nephele

Idaho (for his relationship with the King of Bithynia?) *falls off chair* -- Nephele

Ah, thanks for straightening that out, AD! I noted that Etymology Online does state that, despite the claims of derivation from "Caesarea," the name of Jersey is "probably in fact a Viking name." Vicipaedia is not so clear, however, and perhaps Vicipaedia is contributing to the confusion. Any chance you might be able to add a note to that Vicipaedia article sometime, regarding the Jersey-Caesarea debate? -- Nephele