cornelius_sulla

What's wrong with Nephele's offspring? That's a perfectly good looking bouncing wombat/vampire hybrid homunculus if ever I saw one!

16 years, sis? Congratulations to you and your man, Ateria. That's fantastic.

I agree with you all Doc, Ursus, Warrior. The only stipulation I have is that an Elvis impersonator marries us, and then we cut straight to the chase!

I'm glad that your liking the film Gladiator led you to UNRV, Ateria. Each to his or her own; I just didn't like the movie, but now I like it the more for making you interested in Rome.

Yesterday my brother got married to his childhood sweetheart. What a day. I've attended four weddings so far this year and I'm still no more enamoured of the idea. Familiarity is breeding contempt. What a freakin' production. I was happy for my brother and his new wife, but when you hear the phrase 'your special day' what I reckon is really meant is 'the bride's special day'. What is it about the day of marriage that makes perfectly reasonably, sane, women turn into slathering egomaniacal control freak megalomaniacs? I had a chat to my brother earlier in the morning before the ceremony and his attitude was that he was over it, and couldn't wait for it to be over. This was an attitude shared by the grooms in all four of the weddings I've attended at this point in proceedings - 'God, please let this be over soon without too many casualties'. The bride was beautiful but who knows how many were sacrificed to get her that way. She's a lovely girl, bless her, but an ugly, ugly being has had control of her body for the last two months. The great thing was that my family pulled together to make it all happen for them and the ceremony went off without a hitch, as did the dinner and speeches. I got up and told a corrosively embarassing story about each of them and then, as is custom at a Maori wedding, sung a song. I chose 'I Can Change' by Jon Legend. Know this one? 'When I look back on all that I done to you Take it for granted, things I never should do I see the light now baby it's shining through Gotta give up the game, I got changin' to do. I wont get high if you want it Get that straight Nine to five if you want it Keep my ass home at night if you want it Whatever you need me to do When you talk, I'm gon' listen' Give you all that attention you' missin' Girl, I swear, I'm gonna handle my business Just like a real man should do' I can change for you' Yes, about as much subtlety as a punch in da teef. I couldn't help it. Everybody else was singing these mindnumbling, tooth rottingly sweet vignettes about love and the future and stuff and I just can't resist taking the piss. Everybody laughed except the bride. She looked like she'd swallowed a bag of lemons as if my attempt at levity had spoit the whole day. I hope that thing leaves her body soon and we get the old her back. Needless to say, so does my brother.

Why do I think there is any degree of social distinction to reach? Forgive me if I am vague, but that's part of my question. Did you have to be a consul or attain a certain office to commission and imago or could you just have one made? Or did having one made without doing something noteable make you a presumptious twerp? I'm interested in the whole idea of imagines and their usage.

NICE, GPM! You even got the punctuation marks for elongated vowels in there! If you want, I can translate it for you.

Cheers, Ateria. A couple of stiff drinks and she'll be right on the night, I reckon. Thankyou for your compliments, but my kids had no choice, really. I wouldn't speak to them in English.

Definitely, but now I'm glad I didn't. He wasn't worth my job and the respect I've built up there. She was close though, mate!. PS Honoured to be added to your list of friends, GPM.

Toops and Kylie! I forgot about them. Toopi is from my home town and was always going to be a good one. I couldn't believe it when they were let go. And the biggest loss, Bluey McClennan. See how the Kiwis fared last year in the Blighty? A direct result of letting Bluey go. And then, salt to the wound, The Rhinos come up leaps and bounds. Go the Rhinos! I hear what you're saying about keeping up with the young'uns. I'm seriously considering taking up soccer now but ego won't permit me. I still like to delude myself that I can foot it (but reality begs to differ). How did your beloved Leeds AFC do this season? Any Russian billionaires on your club's horizons?

The first one is very eye catching. I see dragons, angels with wings folded. It's also a bit unhinging, like if you look at it too close for too long it'll induce some kind of fit!

It's that very reasoning I find hard to understand. I'm a parent. If my kid were that sick, I wouldn't stop at God to find an answer. I am reluctant to pass judgement on the faith and belief of others but when there are children involved, well, I just think you should pull out all the stops. This isn't getting at you, either, Moon. Thanks for trying to help me understand.

If you were a knight of the senior centuries, who paid for your horse in the late republic and how long was this custom continued? Who paid for your public horse if you were of the junior centuries?

How many of the winners of the Grass Crown are known to us and if you know, who were they, and can you tell me? I know that Q.Sertorius was awarded one as was L.Cornelius Sulla at Nola, but I'm very interested to learn about as many of the other 'winners' throughout the history of Rome. Did this award evolve into the custom of armies pronouncing their generals Emperor?

What level of social distinction would you have to reach to be officially accorded the privelige of commissioning an imago?

I really enjoyed your review, Ursus. It expressed pretty much every opinion of the series that I have so far had difficulty putting into words for fear of blowing a history geek gasket. I felt dirty too....

I've just finished Brian Herbert's 'The Butlerian Jihad', one of a series of prequels to his father's (Frank Herbert) seminal 'Dune' books. If you are a fan of Frank Herbert, this is a satisfying book - it does justice to the Butlerian Jihad. The other books in Brian Herbert's two series of prequels are engrossing, too.

Yes Doc, the same thing happened to me when I was working in Australia and in Samoa! It's only the minority who are wankers, though. Most of us just need to get out more and meet new people with a different world view, I reckon. PS Cheers for adding me to your list of friends!

I had not heard about this case but I must say that I find the reasoning very, very difficult to understand. You knew the girl? Sorry for your loss, mate.

I've been working nights for the past months, and in that time I have come into contact with a building site administator who has the people skills of a flesh eating virus. I'm Maori. There is a popular perception here, long held and deep seated amongst the ignorant, that we are not very bright as a race. I deal with this every working day and try to change perceptions. The fact that I am a labourer does not help me. It kind of reinforces the aforementioned perception of me and my people. I do this type of work because I really like it, and I'm so good at it that I can contract my skills out and make enough money to keep me happy. But I don't feel that I have to explain this to anybody. I am always judged by my cover. It galls me how surprised some have been to discover that yes, I have a brain, and it functions quite well, thankyou very much. As I have said, the person in charge of the site I am working on is not a nice piece of work. I suspect he was bullied at school by large polynesian types like myself, and revels in his revenge now that he can crack a whip. I am not obliged to listen to him - I'm a contractor. He is in charge of the temporary labourers but has lumped me in with them and last night it came to a head. I will do almost anything for someone who asks me politely, as you would one human being to another. But treat me like a slave and I'll rebel. This guy knows my name but refers to me as 'boy'. I find this interesting because I'm older than he is. Last night was his third strike after being asked nicely twice to use my name because I don't like being called 'boy'. Yet, he persisted; he kept calling me boy so I stopped listening to him. He appealed to my boss who knows what I'm like and told him to fight his own battles. This came to a head when he lost his rag and let loose a tirade of racial abuse when I refused to even acknowledge his presence. Anger clouded his judgement. When he came too, he was faced with an angry six foot two ex boxing champ none to impressed with his oratical skill. My boss had to hold me back. The administrator actually had the cheek to hide behind his labourers, who parted like the red sea for me to get at him like the good polynesian brothers that they are. I didn't get to hit him but I really wanted to. My reasoning was that since you persist in treating me like savage, I'll show you savage alright. So I've been swapped over to another crew. The administrator there is a really good bloke. I'm just glad I didn't lose it and paint the walls with the little prick!

Happy Birthady Gaius Paulinus Maximus. Go the Rhinos!

Cornelia, Mother of the Gracchi. She's a fascinating woman who was connected in one way or another to all Paullus, Africanus, Aemilianus, her sons (of course) and outlived them all. I reckon the conversation that could be had about her and her family and her times would be fantastic. Answers would just lead to more questions.

As if we Kiwis don't already get enough hassles about us and sheep. All I can say is the South Island can get very, very lonely....

Thanks mate. Are we the resident pissheads, or what?