caldrail

The Programme Centre has moved. They were inhabiting a pokey little place in that peculiar brick complex in the corner by the pub. You'd think that was very convenient, except the pub in question is a real 'sawdust on the floor and spit your broken teeth in the bucket please' kind of place. I was in there a few years back, quietly minding my own business, nursing a pint like several others. In came a bunch of lads, making a lot of noise, bouncinng off the walls. To be honest I didn't pay much attention but suddenly it dawned on me the pub had gone quiet. I looked over my shoulder to see one of them staring at me balefully with a bar stool raised above his head. Oh great. I came in here to get smashed out of my head, but this wasn't what I had in mind. What could I do? I stared him straight back in the eye. He didn't move. Eventually I snorted and went back to contemplating my pint. Never a dull moment in there. Then there was the time some old guy accosted me in there and told me he had a treasure map that showed the location of the Tomb of the Ancestor. Tomb of the Ancestress. Oh make your mind up... At the time I thought he either drunk or trying it on. Now it was time to find the Lost Programme Centre. 'X' marked the spot on the ragged photocopied map that had come into my possession. Right then. Droopy slouch hat, whip on my belt, and a can of snake repellent in my pocket. Off I go. Hidden behind a crevice between the shops along the main road, I found the Programme Centre, right where the old map said it would be. Overjoyed by my success at negotiating the difficulties of locating our new programme centre, I was overconfident and forgot that doors are not always the simple devices they seem to be. So when the session finished I stood there scratching my head over a stubbornly locked door. All was not lost. Action-archaeology hollywood blockbusters always have a gutsy babe to save the day, and right on cue a nice young lady from upstairs rescued me and pointed out where the secret door-opening thingy was. Chivalry is not yet dead. Job Vacancy of the Week Amongst the list of vacancies I dug out of the internet yesterday was a real gem. Land management in Zimbabwe. Salary negotiable. You bet it is mate.

Cats might be fun, but ultimately they're fair weather friends. Dogs are social creatures that treat their owning family as their 'pack' - it comes very naturally to them. Cats though are not pack animals, though their behaviour varies according to circumstance. Cats are individualistic because they tend to be reared as such. Those born as part of large groups (such as abandoned farmyards and old ladies homes) have a much more social outlook. I suspect dogs adapt too, but they much prefer to be part of a pack.

The Meaning of Life? We all have different values and ambitions, so I guess the meaning of life varies from person to person. If you need to address that question, then perhaps your life is lacking? Firstly, never forget what you are. Human beings, despite two thousand years of christian culture to the contrary, are social animals. Almost everything we do is an extension of instinct. There's no need to be ashamed of this connection. To regard ourselves as 'special' is arrogance, nothing more. After all, is not the natural world something special? The conditions for life seem to somewhat rare in our universe, so treasure it in it's entirety. Some people see religion as an answer. I have my own beliefs for sure, but surrendering to an organisation that wants to dictate my behaviour seems to me less than desirable. It isn't about what you believe, but what you do. How you treat others is more important. truth is after all in the eye of the beholder as much as beauty. The japanese used to say that a mans fate is a mans fate, and life but an illusion. They recognised the fletting impermanence of our existence and accepted it. I might not quite go that far, but I do say that fate is the sum of all decisions and natural forces. You can decide what you wish to do - you must accept that others may decide differently. Do you accept the world as is or do you strive to change it? It's your choice.

For a couple of days now the weather has been very warm and sunny, albeit a tad windy. The rainfall that has drenched France has threatened to claw its way north and finally today, it's here. Not heavy, just that dull drizzle that makes everything damp. It always brings that dull greyness that I associate with Swindon. It also brings a subdued mood too I notice. It also brings out the dull people. It really does. Now the sun has gone away and the bright cheerful crowd with it there's a crowd of people in the library sounding miserable. People of foreign extraction are crowding around computers and researching prices of tickets home. What I would like is the woman in the next cubicle to go home too. She attacks the keyboard with a gusto of a serious musician. I swear, if she hits those keys any harder, she's going to break them. I'm looking forward to my jobsearch session this afternoon. It's dry, quiet, and there won't be any machinegun fire of computer keyboards. The only downside is that it will be dull. Advert of the Week Promoters are pushing a new music album and the television advert has run for a few weeks now. It's an interesting way to sell it... The new album by the man who used to be Cat Stevens Now that's one gentleman who's being sold as a Has-Been. Not that it should worry him unduly I suppose, the great thing about being a Has-Been is that you must Have Been at some point. So good luck with your album Mr Stevens... ahh... Yusuf.

Interesting. But since Stonehenge was a religious site, calling him the 'King of Stonehenge' doesn't sound right, and more like typical journalism. Wouldn't it be more accurate to call him "King of the Tribes In And Around Salisbury Plain"? The importance of Stonehenge as a cultural center isn't a matter of contention (Stonehenge was clearly an important festial site and arcaeological finds also suggest annual gatherings in shanty towns for the big event), but we should be wary of ascribing extra status to it until we know more about this man and his influence.

Indeed. That's the entire rationalisation behind the Koran, that it represents the last word of God as relayed to Muhammud and his followers over a twenty two year period by the angel Gabriel, amnogst others. In fact there is some consensus between the accounts of Jesus in biblical and islamic work. Fundamentally, the problem is the subject of Jesus's divinity. The earlier versions of his story say that he was a mortal - the Koran explicity underlines that - and only Christianity (post Council of Nicaea) agree on this holy trinity stuff. This is therefore the influence of Roman culture. The establishment of Jesus's credentials as the Son of God is in fact a result of the Roman mindset, who associated such status with powerful men. Since Jesus is the centerpoint of the story, the figurehead of his sects, and a self-declared messiah (chosen one), he must indeed have that power, and therefore the Romans ensured that he was made a demigod in their adaption of Christian belief. If however Jesus made the claim he was the Messiah (which the bible suggests), then clearly his judaic peers didn't think so. To this day, Judaism refuses Jesus the title of the Chosen One. Is this the origin of Jesus's fate? We are quick to blame the Romans for crucifying him, but then, was Pilate more concerned with keeping the peace with some dangerous radical upsetting the establishment? The comparison of early sources makes clear how strongly Jesus spoke out against greed. I wouldn't contest that. The story about the moneylenders table shows his anger too, rather than the calm saintly man he's usually portrayed as. In both the Bible and Koran, there is a mention of Jesus saying that a wealthy man has no more chance of reaching heaven than passing a camel through the eye of a needle, though the context in each case is different. It almost seems as if Jesus is railing against the great inequality of wealth and poverty he witnessed in his, as if he was behaving like a sort of ancient marxist. Certainly, it's hard to escape the conclusion that he had less than religious motives. This shouldn't suprise us. Muhammud was calling upon the same early sources as christians, and in fact, his work was to attempt a unification of belief in a troubled era though with much less self-interest than Constantines idea of one religion to bind them all. We shouldn't forget also that Constantine tried to have one of his relatives worshipped as Jesus. In considering the veracity of the early sources we should realise that our sources are a small number of individuals whose versions of the story vary and there is no official record to back them up from the Roman side.

The British countryside has a popular image of peaceful and idyllic pace of life. What the townies discover all too quickly is the locals have to live off the land their and spread smelly stuff over their fields, populate them with noisy tractors and animals, fill the roads with slow moving harvesters, and there always seems to be a busy airfield next door. They're chasing a myth about the good life. generally speaking, these people get quite uptight that their fantasies are untrue and spend a lot of time trying to close it for business so they can sleep in the mornings.

Do we have such a slave race? Actually, yes we do, but the risk of alienating my fan base prevents me from being outrageously sexist (Before anyone slaps me on the cheek, my tongue is firmly in it aleady - Why do I get the impression I'm digging myself into a pit here?) As it happens, I agree, cats are very quick to manipulate and exploit mankind. We used to get a cat hanging around our home many years ago. It was incredibly cute the way it rubbed itself up your leg and inevitably, my parents began feeding it, until we discovered it was doing exactly the same thing for every house in the street. That was a well fed cat. Sorry, kitten, doting privileges revoked. Serves you right. The next cat to try that got shown off the premises with a hosepipe. Nice try, but no cigar.

One of the joys of opening my post box every morning is the flyers and handouts that fuill it. After all, most of the letters I get are no more than rejection letters from employers, so it gets a bit depressing reading them. Thanks for the application, you're not shortlisted, please don't feel upset or suicidal, and apply again whenever you like. I'm starting to think the post service is making bogus job adverts to keep their members in gainful employment. The flyers are different. Some are simple photocopies of ads for cleaning and domestic services, notes from enterprising individuals asking whether I'd like to sell the house, or full colour glossy menus of mouthwatering chinese, Indian, or Italian takeaways. As much as I like this sort of food, most of the flyers get binned. The outlets are too far to walk considering I've got dozens up and down the hill to choose from and pizzas require a small re-mortgage to pay for. A couple of days ago however I got one flyer from a sushi bar, just around the corner from where I live. Huh? I never spotted that! It seems then that since Honda has reduced production there are Japanese in the area with time on their hands. How could I possibly resist? So last night it was cash in hand and off down the hill in my usual investigative manner. The bar was small, almost hidden in a recessed front of a brick terrace, overwhelmed by the presence of the extrovert pizza place next door. Blink and you'd miss it. To my suprise, I was served by a gentleman of east european origin. Hmmm. That didn't bode well. Waiting for my sushi to be served was something of an experience. The dull outward colour may not attract attention, but anyone inside is clearly visible from the road and as cars slowed to a halt at the traffic lights the occupants of the vehicles kept looking across. Did they not realise a sushi bar was there? Or are they in awe of the ramboesque survivalist about to eat raw fish with nothing more than sanded down twigs? Oh come on, I'm not that fat.... Inevitably, I was disappointed. The portiions were little more than snack size (British size - Americans need to adjust by a factor of x0.01) and whilst the food tasted excellent, I can't help feeling that I was eating crab pate instead of the salmon I ordered. I know the Japanese are into small things, but this fish was microscopic. Okay, lesson learned, I'll stick to supermarket sushi. Fishiness of the Week Something is going on down at the local library. You know how you spot a change of mood? The librarians are walking past me grinning like cheshire cats. Come on girls, it just isn't true. I'm really not that fat. Especially now that I'm on a starvation diet of raw fish. Why do I get the feeling that this is actually about something I have no idea of? How can I sleep at nights not knowing what the joke is? Life can be so cruel.

Since the bible contains invented prose anyway, it isn't hard to believe the crucifixion of Jesus is also fictional. By that I mean the various miracles attributed to Jesus, which are also found in Indian and Egyptian mythos of the time. In other words, the story is embellished to portray Jesus as divine. That doesn't cover the point however. There is a strong possibility that Jesus was indeed nailed up - we just don't have any positive proof of that and there is a contemporary tomb in northern India that is named as the tomb of Jesus, who spent his later years living there according to the locals. Don't dismiss that out of hand, there is a case to answer. After all, the sect of Saint Thomas was discovered in India by Portuguese explorers in the 16th century. Now as to why Jesus's followers would spread stories of crucifixion we enter the realm of hypothesis. I could certainly attempt a few alternatives, but without any stronger historical connection, it wouldn't have any validity. That however is the problem with the bible. It's a story rewritten to give Jesus the status of a demigod, to make him the figurehead of a religion. Notice the bible is split into two. The Old Testament, an embellished account of Jewish history, and the New testament, a portrayal of Jesus. Although the bible is our primary source for the life of Jesus (as indeed it was always intended to be) it remains a biased and suspect work.

Study of the Notitia Dignitatum, a document from the late empire, might shed some light on that. Translations are available on the web if you do a search. http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Notitia_Dignitatum As for more definitive work, it's largely down to interpretation and you have to realise that we don't have access to records that tell us what the makeup of legions was. It is therefore something of a best guess based on on what we know. I have heard it said that by the late empire no more than 25% of the legions were Italian in origin (from Goldsworthy). The Romans themselves were becoming less inclined to see the legions as a worthy career, and the availability of foreign allies or mercenaries became more important. Actually this is something I'd loke to know more of but information on the subject seems to be very obscure. Possibly that's because there is considerable room for disagreement?

The attitude of Romans toward Christianity was largely one of ignorance. I don't think we can blame tactius and Dio for that alone. The Romans saw a monotheistic faith that deliberately excluded other spiritual beliefs, something that their superstitious mindset found diifficult to appreciate. For instance - To the Romans, a river was more than just a flow of excess water. It was also the manifestation of a spirit of some kind, either one of their own or a local being. If you upset that being, the river would claim you. Now I'm sure there were Romans who paid lip service or scorn to such ideas, there always is, but that was a prevailing opinion. What the Christians were saying was that this river spirit did not exist or was not worthy of consideration. Therefore, this was an insult to the being concerned, and so making river crossing a much riskier affair. Of course we also know that gossip about christian practice made things difficult. They heard of cannabalistic and vampiric rites that were very un-Roman. Worse still, the Christians refused to accept the divinity of the Emperors cult. That, above all else, was tantamount to sedition. I'd have to say that the pagans probably did ignore the books that would later make up the New Testament. Christianity was not a unified sect and one that held meetings in secret. Their writings were not common knowledge, and since there were occaisional persecutions, I hardly think they were going to shout about their books. Once we reach the reign of Constantine there is a drive to unify the church. With the Emperors support, the Christians are creating links and Ammianus Marcellinus tells us that "The roads were filled with galloping bishops". Although Constantine had made religion free of suppression by the Edict of Milan, under his reign the politicisation of religion he sponsored would lead to factional rivalry. I suspect then there were many versions of christian texts floating around (even after the Council of Nicaea which was supposed to thrash out what was or wasn't christian). After all, Ulfilas, a gothic convert and missionary, founded his own sect and may have assisted the Arian heretic Emperor Valens to spread Arianism to the Tervingi north of the Danube, part of the peace settlement for the three year war won by Valens against the Goths of Athanaric. Ulfilas wrote his own bible and translated it into Gothic, and this was something done (40 years?) after the Council of Nicaea. I would say then, that there might have been many books with minor distribution, hence the pagans may not have stressed them.

I imagine Pilate, with no easy way to excuse an unruly mob, might well give in to them temporarily. The problem with enforcing decisions upon a native people is that they don't like it, and Judaea was certainly no exception. Hadrian, for instance, had promised to rebuild Jerusalem (in ruins after the jewish revolt). What he actuallt did was make plans to build Aelia Capitolina on the site instead, and sparked off another revolt. You can hate someone but be unable to do anything against them, and a politician hoping to make an impression in the provinces doesn't want to risk his reputation. Tiberius wasn't going to be impressed by a governor who shows he can't control a populace without resorting to violence at the drop of a hat. I see plenty of anomalies, and I can assure you, I am anything but fundamentalist christian. The point is though that I also recognise the need for public image amongst Roman politicians. The Romans were powerful in military terms, but they weren't all powerful in occupation. If Tiberius sensed Pilate was weak or a poor decision maker - he was out of a job.

Picture the world in prehistory. No television, computer games, or cars. In between hunting wild beasts I guess they had a lot time on their hands. So bored was one ancestor of humanity that he discovered rubbing wooden sticks together made things catch fire.. Can you imagine how excited he was to discover that? Later, when voluminous wigs were fashionable, Newton discovered that sitting under apple trees was not only painful, but seriously enlightening. Sometime later, Einstein discovered that mathematics alone could prove how difficult the universe was to understand. Not really mad scientist stuff was it? Where's the drama? Newton decided that gravity constantly attracted things, Einstein discovered there was a universal constant. Sigh... Science is definitely getting duller with each generation. If you think that's wrong, consider the Big Bang. That's the first thing that ever happened and what an explosion! Everything, literally everything, compressed into a space smaller than my chances of getting a job. Then it blew up. No warning whatsoever. Some people say we're made of stars. I say most of us are made of shrapnel. The reason I write this is that I've just watched a tv documentary on the Big Bang. It's just so incredible. Like a lot of television programs, it was all Flash Bang Wallop! Fast paced, lots of fancy computer graphics, and the same message repeated thirty seven times. The first second of the universe was the most important. Okay, okay, I got that. Can we move on to something else now? Eventually they did. They showed a lot of interior shots of that big underground hadron collider in Europe, and told us that this device will open up new vistas of reality we can only dream of. You mean, there's going to be a sequel to this documentary? I can't wait, especially since the only thing I can remember from the voiceover about the hadron collider was that they broke it. Technology of the Week Mind control is here. I've just watched an orchestra play instruments electronically with sensors wrapped around their skulls. Is that a good thing? Part of the joy of playing musical instruments is that moment when your dexterity does what you want without having to think about it. So what's the point of mind control when we've had it built-in for millions of years?

Hmmm.... Think you might have heard a different Beatles album from me

Oh? Why? Do you imagine two opposing phalanxes 'pushing pikes' in a sort of military rugby scrum? That may have occured, but generally that wasn't how the phalanx fought. It was a remorseless advance by weight of numbers employing a wall of sharp points to persuade the enemy to go away. The front ranks can't stop because they've met the enemy pikes. The weight of men behind them will push them onward. You therefore might have seen a phase where both sides are impaling the other, and if both sides continue (by no means a sure thing) then the ranks might reach the stage of being inside the enemies reach (but the enemy is also inside theirs) at which point the push of pikes results in the vague stalemate you infer. However, the previous contact phase is actually very crucial and there's no guarantee a phalanx won't collapse into disorder. Not entirely true. The Romans were pragmatic about warfare and concluded peace settlements just like anyone else if it suited their purposes. Caledonia for instance. Had Domitiain allowed Agricola to finish the conquest of the British Isles the victory may have been clear, but the threat from the north remained in place throughout the Roman occupation. Only Antoninus Pius authorised another territorial campaign and that may have only been to establish miltiary credibility of his reign.

Not so. One of the duties of a provincial governor was to uphold law and the native legal system wasn't replaced - the Romans merely added their own laws to the mix. The result was a difficult and sometimes delicate balancing act between needs of the occupying state and those of the culturally diverse natives. Remember that the Romans didn't want revolts. One means of achieving this acceptance of their presence was to accept the native legal system. It was after all important to bring the natives on-side as Roman clients, a fundamental part of their political policies. The Romans did not supplant the native systems, merely persuaded their leaders to join the Roman side. It is simply wrong to assume that provincials were automatically romanised, even if they did enjoy some of the benefits of Roman rule.

What both Horace and Juvenal (who are both incidentally satirical writers not historians) indicate is that crucifixion was the normal method of putting slaves to death. No one denies that. Roman citizens were normally beheaded, not crucified. Neither writer specify political or non-political reasons for crucifixion. There were a number of punishments depending on the crime. A citizen might be sentenced to fight animals in the arena, or be forced to fight another criminal for the crowds edification and delight. Some were thrown from the Tarpian Rock, or ritually strangled, or simply bumped off quietly. Beheading is mentioned but I believe that was a punishment from the later period of Roman history? In the early Byzantine period, one unfortunate fellow was accused of plotting against the Emperor. They blinded him, cut out his tongue, cut off his arms and legs, paraded him around town then set him adrift on a boat... Which they thoughtfully set fire to.

Right then. Time to to meet my contractual obligations and earn my benefit payments. So its off to the office and another session of the training programme. Seeing as I'm officially famous and a genuine unemployed person, I think today I really must make the effort and dress in typically grungie fashion. Cue Stayin' Alive by the Bee Gees and lots of silly dancing in front of mirrors. Having dressed the part it's down the stairs and out into the big wide world. There's no stopping me today... Hello?... Who's that in next doors front yard?... A little old lady about four feet tall is busy pulling up weeds and putting them in her supermarket organic produce bag. Yes... Well.... Think I'll leave her to it. She;'s happy. I suspect her customers are too even if they don't know where these mystical potions are coming from. Session of the Week "Can I help you?" Asked the woman at the office. I pointed out I was there for my afternoon session and she relaxed a bit. "Come with me please." Sigh. It's a pokey little office and I already know I'm going to be in the back room. But she's happy, so I follow behind and smile gratefully when she beckons me toward the door. The guys inside told me to choose a PC and get right on it. The job search I mean, not the computer. At least I think that's what he meant. Oh no. I've forgotten my memory stick and I don't have my CV with me. So I'll have to type it out all over again... Boredom Level One.... De Ja Vu. I've got a great list of websites to work through which means I have to register for every search engine on it one after the other.... Boredom Level Two.... Losing the ability to move facial muscles. The man in charge says we can go home five minutes early because we've been good little boys and girls. I've worked very hard these last two sessions and currently the entire civilised world has access to my CV. So far I've had one email asking me why I want to work for their client... This is a joke, right?... Guess not, so I'll have to invent a clever answer... Boredom Level Three... Irreversible brain damage. Now the man in charge tells me that having uploaded my CV to every planet with intelligent life (there's a huge number of advanced civilisations out there according to statistical studies) I'll have to do that every again every two weeks because otherwise these super intelligent space aliens get bored and won't read my CV. I know. I'll offer them my Self Marketing Voucher. Yep. Us long term unemployed can now can now present a voucher from the government saying "Employ me and get cash, free". It's a bit like tuning your radio to the frequencies used by Alpha Centauri and saying "Hey guys, abduct me please? We'll throw in a free cow."

There was a time, before the BBC discovered computerised special effects, that we used to see those fifties 'B' movies. You know the ones? A terrible threat to mankind emerges from its hiding place and lays waste to the nearest big city before mankind finds a way to destroy it. Good wholesome family viewing. All these films followed a familiar pattern. Whether the threat came from space aliens, nuclear radiation, meteorites, or chemicals, it all started with an innocent small town slowly becoming aware of a lurking menace. When the threat is realised, the good reverend clutches his bible to his chest, and advances toward the monster safe in the knowledge that a leather bound book is all he needs to protect himself from the terrible fate that inevitably gets him anyway. Then the army turn up and fire everything they've got. It turns out of course that bullets and shells bounce off the creature but the army fights to the last scream of agony. High Command, realising that London and Paris are also being stomped and eaten, decide to drop a nuclear bomb, which does no more than daze the monster for five seconds before it remorselessly continues doing what the writer intended it to. The end is always a suprise. At the very last moment we discover the monster was vulnerable to something very ordinary and we see the closing credits as the choir sings in the background, announcing that the world is safe until the next feature release. A few days ago, two policemen turned from our street into the alleyway and were never seen again. Hmmm... Strange.... Well I thought no more of it until I bought yesterdays newspaper intent on finding a job advert. Lo and behold, pest exterminators are warning of a new danger in Swindon. Our cute, loveable local sewer rat has mutated into a big nasty indestructible Giant Super-Rat. No, really, they mean it. The monster rodents are unaffected by poison and traps are the only answer. So serious is the threat that BBC Radio One is holding their Big Weekend at Lydiard Park to lure them out, and the government are recalling troops from Iraq. Mark my words - There will be loads of screaming women before this is over... They've Arrived! It was past midnight when I heard the lorry out the back of the house. We don't usually get a lot of traffic in the back streets at that hour. The odd mobile night club with a fat exhaust or a sprinting motorbike usually. Out of curiosity I opened the back window and observed a large lorry backing up the road to a property further up the hill. Deliveries? At this hour? The driver saw me leaning out the window (his eyesight is pretty good), and hurled an incoherent reminder for me to mind my own business. Suit yourself mate. I was going to warn you about the Giant Super-Rats prowling the area, but....

The internal disagreement was the reason for the Council of Nicaea in ad325 - to sort out what was considered 'christian'. The Nicene Creed was based pretty much on Pauls work but Paul himself, as such, didn't create a unified christianity as the sects of his time were all independent. I doubt the earlier bishops cared much for unity either, since they were on a good earner and didn't want too much attention. It was however the politicisation of religion in the 4th century that changed that. After the Edict of Milan, Constantine had created a regime in which religions could flourish. He then supported and encouraged Christianity. Mithraism persisted on the frontiers but withered nonetheless. In fact, Christians complained that Mithras worshippers were copying their rituals. Religion was becoming an important issue now that state support could be had. The Christians did recognise this and the political nature of their faith emerges very quickly from this period. They weren't alone of course. Arianism was a popular sect (declared a heresy in ad325). Julian tried to restore paganism. Valens tried to restore Arianism. Theodosius restored Christianity. The impression I get is a hotbed of religious factions vying for political support and suffering the consequences if they didn't get it. I don't mean persecution, that was effectively a thing of the past, but the leading priests of the losing faction were gotten rid of every time the power changed hands.

An arian? Now that's the first time I've heard that, but then I suppose Constantine is 'christian property' if you understand what I mean. You did? Really? I hereby make you an honourary citizen of the Independent Peanut Republic of Rushey Platt. Well done that man.

Last night I strolled up the hill to get a bag of chips. Yes, it's true, I did. Sometimes my spirit of adventure gets the better of me. Anyhow, this was during the twilight. On the horizon, the last angry embers were fading out. The sky was that deep blue you get shortly before dark. As I looked up, dark grey clouds were wafting silently past. I've always thought how strange it is that clouds move at dusk without any wind. Even stranger is that spell the moon casts on you. There it is, a pale silvery glow lighting up the thin cloud from behind. You can't help but admire it. It seems to turn the darkening sky into a dull grey, making pale shadows of the passing cloud and lighting their edges with that pastel glow, and away from the moons soft ambience, the lights of Swindon paint the cloud a different shade of brown. For full effect, a full moon is required, but this three-quarter moon is making all the right colours. Later on I paused for a moment, looking out the back window at the sky, watching the moon play between the clouds. Then I spotted movement. Our local cat? Nope, the legs are too short, more like... A Badger? In this part of town? There he goes, trotting up the back road without a care in the world. Enjoy your night out, little fella. Checkout Event of the Week Earlier yesterday I queued at the supermarket checkout and dropped all my shopping on the rubber conveyor ready for the bored assistant to pass them over her scanner. Another woman joined the queue behind me. In a mood of politeness, I reached out for a plastic barrier to seperate her shopping from mine. As expected, she began piling her shopping on the conveyor too. Until, that is, she grabbed her banana. It slid out of her hand and flew across everyones groceries. Banana skins really are slippery, aren't they? Don't worry, we caught the banana and returned it to the grateful owner alive and well, before the badger spotted it.

Which all kind of misses the point. Art is elitist because a minority want to be seen as superior in status. Thats nothing to do with aesthetics at all, it's simply social behaviour and if I were honest, not really the best side of it, since these people show little respect for common opinion. However, what drives the genre is money. Experts earn a living by describing and judging nuances, critics earn a living by praising or denouncing work, dealers earn a living by cashing in on reputations, artists earn a living by selling their creations. We're surrounded by the natural world. The randomness and fractal properties of the small scale lead to interactions of form and colour that the artifical and contrived works of the limited imaginations of many modern artists simply don't match. Modern art is, quite frankly, bland and pretentious. That would be ok if the people in the genre didn't keep on claiming all this significance. Art does not change the world. How could it? Art is only an expression of the artist and therefore very revealing of their own personalities. Since the artist isn't changing the world but simply making an artistic expression of it, then clearly art has no force for change. What does change is fashion. One artist is popular for a while (or perhaps longer) then the emphasis moves on. Is my unmade bed art? No, it isn't. Not in any way whatsoever. It's simply moving a mundane object into pubklic scrutiny and the artistic skill and flair involved is essentially zero. Anyone trying something like that deserves to be tarred and feathered as a fraud. Art is a creative genre. If there is no creative aspect, neither can we ascribe artisitc value to it. An unmade bed is simply a natural consequence of the interaction of physical objects and my nightly slumber. If I take a photograph, or paint a picture, or perhaps carve a sculpture to create an impression of that scene - that is art. Something creative has occured. If I simply roll my unmade bed into a public gallery, I've done nothing more than furniture removal. As for cracks in the ground, the gas pipe fitters made much more interesting shapes outside my home than Kapoors oval, which was actuallly a rather dull and uninspired piece for he'll no doubt be feted and paid his own weight in gold for. But then.... He did persuade people that his work was worthy. Which makes him on par with a car salesman as I said originally.

It sounds very organised doesn't it? Caesar also mentions his efforts to keep men in the line. Officers routinely positioned themselves behind fighting units to exhort them to greater effort, or more likely, to stop them running away. Twice he describes confronting a frightened standard bearer. One man threatened Caesar with the sharp end of his standard to get past, the other simply thrust the pole into Caesars hands and ran. In fact, Caesar was sometimes found fighting in the front rank to inspire his men. Clearly he was unable to direct the battle whilst doing so.