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It is interesting to read that a young Roman man madly in love with a woman was pitied - his condition was regarded as emotional slavery. The concept of freedom, with respect of decision making primarily, was deeply imbedded in the Roman psyche. Incidentially, one point I didn't stress earlier was the 'Roman village'. That didn't really exist. Why? Look at Britain before the Romans arrived. Britons lived in a very dispersed pattern, relying on the fortified settlements of dominant leaders as a refuge in times of danger. Small settlements were rare. You did get farmers who fortified their own hilltop farmyard, mostly as a symbol of social status, but I imagine when the chips were down they headed for the hillfort along with everyone else. Safety in numbers. Notably, these hillforts protected resources. The available archaeology suggests that as villages, the hillforts didn't have enough agriculture to suport them indefinitely. For long term subsistence, the population who owed loyalty to the local chief needed to spread out and farm land in the area. Also, the uplands were popular. Lowlands were at that time often forested and boggy. So the village in the sense we usually imagine it wasn't there - one reason why we name communities of Iron-Age Britons as 'settlements' The Romans either developed those communities as towns in their own pattern, built their own colonies, or ignored the celtic ones if they weren't close to Roman activity, or if the settlement had no value or threat in the Roman mind. The villa was a substitute for the hillfort in a sense aside from the lack of defensive value, but then, the Romans weren't going to tolerate unrest. By combining the urban centers of Roman Britain and the villa sites found, you get a good sense of Roman cultural coverage, bearing in mind that the radius of influence isn't huge at all. Roman architecture did spread, as I agreed before, but one important aspect is that although changes were dramatic in the first hundred years of Roman occupation, the pace of 'romanisation' slowed down to a crawl after that. It was as if the issues of who wanted to be Roman and who didn't had already been settled for the most part. There were some major changes later, such as the building of defenses in a troubled province that Jerome described as 'fertile in usurpers', or the rise in fall in the fortunes of one settlement or another, but these were circumstantial as opposed to deliberate policies.

It's Bank Holiday Weekend in Britain again. Those of us not busy demolishing our properties with ideas for home improvement will be heading for the coast, a mass migration of people desperate for fun and sun away from their daily grind. The government have issued a warning to those intending to travel that they can expect long delays on trunk routes. We know. Everyone knows the motorways get jammed up with cars every Bank Holiday Weekend. But then, since the government have made our lives duller by taking money out of our pockets to spend on schemes to identify who we all are, of course we're going to gamble on getting to the coast for a couple of days. Incidentially, I notice that in Swindon, public houses are closing in droves. Before long, the phrase "I'm off down the pub" will have a very different meaning. There is an ironic quality to this. In an attempt to shut the kids up and keep them occupied, parents risk being trapped in a parked vehicle for several hours listening to that perennial favourite "Are we there yet?" You have to wonder though whether the government warnings are going to be noticed. They've not exactly shone as custodians of Britains finances, they've made themselves look mean and stingy over the rights of Ghurka veterans to settle in Britain, and seem more concerned with scrounging money for *or* videos whilst Gordon Brown is away on speech duty. We do seem to be getting a lot of warnings right now anyway. Enviromentalists are warning us the climate is heading for apocalypse. The moslem activists are warning us of rivers of blood. The Russians are warning us that they rather liked the Cold War and can they have another one please? Beyond that, the World Health Organisation have notified us that we are now at Pandemic Phase Five ("Get Ready To Panic") over Swine Flu. The strange thing is though, although such a state of alertness over this apparently virulent disease means that areas should be quarantined to prevent its spread, they say there's no point. So strictly speaking, if the government wanted to stop motorway madness this Bank Holiday, all they need to do is quarantine the towns. It seems they almost have. By making it unaffordable to buy new cars, by making it undesirable to own older ones, by making it impossible to park a car anywhere, by making lots of new road junctions that bypass every single stop, the government are well on the way to achieving their aim of quiet, stationary Bank Holidays. But what's the point of Stationary Britain? Bank Holiday of the Week How shall I spend my weekend? Well... I won't be driving anywhere. I won't be doing any DIY. Instead, I'll be relaxing, taking it easy, and keeping quiet about it in case someone thinks I should be looking for a job instead. Of course I want a job really. How else could I legitimately claim time off to escape the mad rush this weekend?

Mind you, a lot of Romano brit villages, even quite remote from the main Roman centres, were rebuilt with Rectangular buildings and small finds suggest a willingness to enjoy the luxurious material benefits of Roman culture. Naturally. There was a lot to gain from keeping the Roman occupiers happy - they were there, they weren't going away, and anyone who didn't like it received a visit from the military. Tacitus tells us very explicitly in Agricola that... The Britons were seduced with alluring vices: arcades, baths, and sumptuous banquets. In their simplicity they called these novelties 'civilisation' when in reality they were part of their enslavement Now before we get too deeply mired in Roman social status, it's worth understanding what Tacitus actually meant. If you take any time to read the history of Rome by Cassius Dio, you discover that he talks time and time again about slavery. He doesn't mean status, imprisonment, enforced labour, chains, or the usual imagery we associate with such a label. What he does mean is that one person is compliant to anothers will whether he likes it or not. It's a question of freedom in this respect. Rather like a crime boss telling a victim that "I own you", simply because the victim has no way to defy the bosses control without retribution. The Roman policy of settlement in Britain was to encourage to creation of thier own style of facilities and buildings. Tacitus mentions that too - the locals were encouraged either as individuals or communities to build Roman style architecture. Of course they did so. It was in their own interests. That doesn't mean they actually liked the new style, rather that it was the dominant style, the fashionable style, and the style their new masters liked to see, plus they probably got implicit help in building these places too. It might also be said that many Britons found the new styles more comfortable? However, what Tacitus doesn't refer to is the nucleonic nature of Roman culture in Britain. They were concentrated in small areas, and indeed, this was the whole rationale for the urbanisation and spread of urban settlements throughout occupied Britain. All these 'advanced' settlements were a centre for the local area, a colony of romanisation. The countryside villa system plugged into this. The villa owner was a landowner, a patron of rural life, and thus extended Roman influence beyond the walls of the towns. However, we must note that Roman villlas were not uniformly spread throughout Roman Britain. Far from it, the north of England has very few in evidence. The villa owner in Britain wasn't always a senior Roman. More often he was a British landowner who had thrived under the Roman system, and by definition, had adopted enough of its principles to be part of the hierarchy even in a potentially attentuated way. This means there was a local acceptance of that status quo. If the local natives did not accept the landowners social status, the villa would not have thrived. This implies there were many areas where the Roman influence was much less than in towns. Archaeology confirms this. We see celtic settlements in use during the Roman occupation and retaining traditional styles of housing throughout the period. Caves would continue to be inhabited into the later medieval period. The remarkable thing is that there's little evidence of Roman infiltration into these native settlemets. Certainly Roman goods can be found there - these settlements traded with others and artifacts changed hands, but there's no sign of interference in the native lifestyle from the Roman authorities. Only one in six of rural settlements in Roman Britain can be identified as a villa. The concept of the Roman village, similar to a sleepy hamlet of the middle ages, is simply incorrect. The views of Tacitus regarding the Britons and their adoption of luxury is relevant, but not all-encompassing. Many Britons carried on life as they always had. The image of Roman legions marching over the hill, crushing resistance, and leaving behind a Roman village is too simplistic - what we see through archaeological sources is a much more complex situation. Tacitus also mentions the political solutions used to maintain peace. By enlisting the tribal leaders as allies, control of territory is achieved without military occupation. Even in the dark ages, there were at least two celtic tribes whose chiefs retained Roman titles given to them in return for their loyalty. These weren't disenfranchised Romans at all - they were native settlements left to cionduct their business provided they paid tribute and observed Roman law. That was a common situation in Roman Britain, and one the Romans saw as the first step in acceptance of their ownership of the Islands.

Nah... Stonehenge is way myhticaler than that. "The Druids... No-one knows who they were... or... wot they were doin'..." Classic. Shame about the stage set

It isn't possible to decide what the best song in the world is because every songwriter has written one that qualifies. Trust me, I know. Anyway, the Beatles are second rate compared the the musical leviathan that is Britains greatest supergroup, Spinal Tap. She Loves Me Yeah yeah Yeah? Gimme a break. I'll choose Sex Farm Woman every time (unless you have an Aston Martin with machine guns I can drive in which case I lose interest in music immediately

For a few days now cheery weatherpersons have smiled and siad we're all going to get wet. Amber triangles are shown on the screen with Heavy Rain! in bold black lettering. Risk of local flooding. They might be right I suppose. It's just that so far we've only had one day of rain and that was drizzly. I must also confess, that as I write this, I can see the library window splattered with raindrops. I knew I should have brought my canoe with me. The damp conditions now spreading across Swindon mean something else. It's an early death for woodland flowers. The undergrowth absolutely loves wet weather and as I strolled along the alleyway behind my home, the undergrowth was sprouting vigorously. Thornbushes, nettles, and ferns predominate. Young saplings eagerly racing for a patch of sky to call their own. Also, however, horsetails. They look a little bit like primeval ferns, the sort of thing you'd see in a Carboniferous Forest millions of years ago. In fact, that's not far wrong. Horsetails are the only survivor of an entire range of plants, some of whom grew as trees in times past. We have a miniature Jurassic forest right here in Swindon. We also have our fair share of primeval inhabitants too. Yesterday, like any nutcase Englishman, I went out into the midday sun for a spot of fresh air and exercise. On the grassy public spaces a very fashionable youth was walking his pitbull dogs and they ran at me. Not violently (phew!) but it was dodge them or fall over. He of course took no notice. Did he do that on purpose? Worse still, once I had passed and was going about my lawful business, I heard him call me a 'poser'. Is he serious? A walking pimple farm in baseball cap, expensive street cred apparel, and two barely controllable pitbull dogs to inflate his pre-pubescent lumps? Look in the mirror young man. You're a schoolboy. You might be impressing your mates in the school yard, the rest of the world think you're wet behind the ears. It's such a jungle out there... Meanwhile, Back At The Library Is there something wrong with young people in Swindon? Is there some strange cult teaching them to be idiots and morons? I say this because of The Flash. He's the kiddie I mentioned before, the one who seems utterly determined to be the first through the doors. Today he excelled himself. He brushed past the security guard and ran up the stairs with a big grin on his face. Once I followed the herd behind him I spotted him sat down in the rest area, feet up, staring vacantly into space. Meanwhlie, Back In The Real World AM has announced his intention to leave England for foreign shores this year. Oh no... Don't tell me he's actually going to do it? That he means to act decisively and positively to travel to a pre-chosen destination?... Bye. The foreign gentleman who's revealed to us that England is an armpit chuckled. I wonder why? Does he know something about AM's chosen destination that we don't?

Pfah! All I want is an Aston Martin with machine guns. I am such a child....

As Napoleon said "Yes, I'm sure he's a great general, but is he lucky?" There is a tendency to see battles as a game of chess between commanders. This simply isn't so. Battlefield commanders in the ancient world could only see what was in line of sight, had no substantia means of communication to individual formations, and in fact often gambled on a plan decided on beforehand and agreed with subordinate commanders. It wasn't always the tactics on the day that swung it, but the position of the sun, the restrictions and effects of terrain, and since the ancient world had a love affair with the ambush, very much one of superior situational intelligence. That said, the phalanx wasn't really intended as a solitary formation. The idea was a remorseless advance across a broad front by solid ranks of men that would very literally push the enemy back with rows of pikes. Cavalry - as usually deployed - would protect the flanks. In fact, the cavalry actions were often the first of the day, and in many cases decided who would eventually win the battle. We also need to realise that cavalry were in short supply for much of the period. Horses were expensive and not as common as later periods. For all its advantages though the phalanx was an inflexible formation - the very reason for it's decline as the importance of securing the flanks escalated - because the phalanx made that necessary. It was therefore, a step in an arms race. Invent a better way of advancing on the enemy, then find a better way to get around it.

Thanks for sharing those vids, guys. Never again will I be embarrased about my musical past

Some time ago on a job website I was asked if I wanted to take part in an online questionaire. The questions were fairly moronic but I hadn't anything better to do. One listed a load of organisations and asked me to describe them in three words. One was MI5, our home defence secret spy unit. I wrote 'Probably boring, but?'.I did kind of wonder if that answer was going to get me held in custody for three months under the Prevention Of Humour Act, but I never got an interview. Yesterday was my first day at the special unit designed to reintergrate me with jobseekers in the outside world. In the meeting room with me were the usual mix of people. The guy running the course began by describing what we were going to be doing. This doesn't look like a very exciting course. Most people get rope bridges across flooded mountain rivers, or dancing lessons, all in front of tv cameras, but all we have to do is post letters in obscurity for thirteen weeks. The tutor started handing out sheets of paper. He wants us to fill in a form. No problem, although I notice the questions are a bit anal. You know, who you are, where you live, what you've done, what you did after that, what you'd like to do when they set you free into the wild... Another form? What's this about? Oh, an equal opportunities thing. I have to declare what species I am. What choices have I got? Reptile? Furry Mammal? I know, I'll tick Ape Descendant... Albino.... Ooh look, yet another form. This one is what exactly? Ahh, health and safety. They want to know who to contact when I have that tragic accident with a photocopier that sets fire to the building. I think I'll put 'Emergency Services' for that. Oh no, not another form... This one's a classic. I have to fill out a form full of questions asking whether I understand what's going on. Well I think I do.... That man is doing his best to explain it all. Then he hands out another form. Customer satisfaction. Circle the appropriate answer. Was the induction useful? Were the forms handed out efficiently?... And so on. Do we get a prize if we hand it in? Free benefits for a month? Deep inside of what remained of my concious brain activity, a tiny spark of instinct struggles above the mind-numbing forms and it occurs to me that these forms are of no possible use to any sane statistician in any way at all. I think this is an MI5 recruitment test. I've got thirteen weeks to become James Bond. Revelation of the Week Occaisionally I wander down the hill to the collection of fast food shops and take my pick of world cuisine. There's an advert in the pizza place for a cheap burger, so let's try that. The foreign gentleman who works behind the counter of all these shops takes my order and disappears to find something to put in the bag. While I wait I look through the colour flyers left on the shelf. There's usually a good selection. An advert for a monster truck display... not interested. Last months local music scene listings... Old news. Hello? What's this? I've found an article describing how anyone, armed only with a copy of the Bible, can scientifically prove that the Earth is in fact only 6,000 years old. All you have to do is swap verses around and the story becomes clear, revealing evolution as a false science... Wow. Was Darwin wrong after all? Let me just finish this banana, and I'll see what answer I come to. Hey... This is wierd... If you reassemble the pages and letters in the Bible at random, you eventually get Macbeth...

I'd started a whole load of local bands, most of whom I really can't remember the names of at all. Bardiche was a typical period melodic rock/soft metal band I joined in the mid-eighties and eventually managed for a year or so but after Pete Farrar got the hump because I wasn't making enough profit to pay him an expected fee for his services, I kind of got disillusioned with running bands and looked for something worth joining. Then I found Red Jasper, a quirky sort of contemporary folk band. After a series of embarrasing gigs I pushed the band into rocking it up a little, thinking (correctly) that we'd get more attention. It was a strange circumstance really. In truth, Jasper was an uncomfortable mix and the members were all pulling it their own way. I got blamed for most of that but in all honesty we were all guilty. On the plus side, we played some high profile venues, got rave reviews in Kerrang, and were described as 'Jethro Tull on speed'.

Interesting point, but was the spread of education as prevalent in those earlier times as during the imperial period?

It's simple. but challenging. It's all about business skills. A&R men aren't interested in whether you're the greatest act ever born, only if they can sell you. They used to receive infinite numbers of cassettes in my day (its internet exposure too these days). One A&R man I spoke to had a big sack in his office full of the things - none were going to get heard. One band I know of packaged their demo in a custom made polystyrene brick (hand-painted) and it was all a waste of effort. The trick is to sell your band before the A&R man actually hears it. That first phone call is everything, and it helps to have friends in influential places. Other than that, you simply have to get lucky. For instance... Tony and I were heading for a gig in Bristol. The previous night we'd done a support slot at the Mean Fiddler in London. Over the radio, the DJ mentioned he'd been to a gig yesterday at that very venue. Both Tony and I leaned forward with baited breath, no longer interested in the direction the car was travelling. "Saw a Great Band" The DJ said. Yes... Go on... Please... We want exposure.... But it was not to be. He simply said the headline band were brilliant. Putdowns don't come any harder than that

Nay, 'tis General Neil. Well done Mate.

So the High Priest of Pop Idol destoryed my career too did he? Cheers Suz, now I know Noooooo! Suz has been turned into a Pop-Idol Worshipper by the Evil Codpiece! Repent, sinner! Seriously though if thats your impression of him then thats cool. I've only got his tv appearances to go by, and whilst his 'honesty' is no different from the cruel opinions of the entertainment business as a whole (believe me, I knew what people thought of our band!), I find it hard to like the mans personality. Well at least it wasn't me!

I must admit I simply assumed the phrase meant acceptance as a partner. That is what the epitaph implies. There is of course the possibility that the relationship was originally based on something more practical - such as a young girl in desperate need of foster parents. Nonetheless, the epitaph doesn't indicate a later marriage - it merely says they were together from that point, hence the conclusion by Shelton.

Agreed. However, the legions do not comprise a similar mix of people that you found in cities. They were from an entire region, with special attention to fit, active, aggressive young men. most of those wouldn't know how to read by virtue of their background (and the legions were for many of them a life of adventure away from the toil of manual labour - boy were they in for a shock! - or a way to make some sort of profitable living with a decent pension package) I also note that reading and writing was a prized attribute for legionaries - it made it likely that they'd be chosen for office duty , thus being assigned as immunes, and someone else can do all the labouring outside.

Child Brides The Romans entered upon marriage at a very young age; both partners might be in their teens at the time of marriage. It was not, however, unusual for a girl in her teens to be maried to a man considerably older than herself who had already been married once or twice before. Some girls were even married before they reached puberty. The following inscription, a first century BC epitaph found at Rome, tells us about Aurelia Philematium, who was married at age seven. "I was called, while alive, Aurelia Philematium, a woman chaste and modest, unsoiled by the common crowd, faithful to her husband. My husband, whom, alas, I have now left, was a fellow freedman. He was really like a father to me. When I was seven years old he embraced me. Now I am forty, and in the power of death. Through my constantcare, my husband flourished." As the Romans Did - Jo-Ann Shelton Extraordinary. Notice the complete lack of any moral outrage or shame for a marriage that in our time would have police arriving in SWAT trucks. Granted, the above example is a marriage between two freedpersons, who are probably less concerned with the niceties of social ettiquette than the privileged, but then... Aurelia Philematium is described as a good girl. So clearly, her behaviour offset any criticism of what might have seemed even then a dubious marriage. Does anyone have any other examples of these matches?

During my high octane, non-stop, action packed lifestyle as an unemployed job seeker, I occaisionally get a few moments to myself in which to relax. Yesterday was one of those, so in an uncharacteristic bout of feet-up laziness, I sat back and switched on the television. Hey, they've added some channels sonce I last watched telly. So I discovered this music channel showing all the hits from the eighties. Wow. This is so nostalgic. Phil Collins still had hair. Adam Ant still had warpaint on his face. The only way was up, and the cast of Neighbours had applied to be pop stars. Comparing music between then and now reveals just how empty music can be.today. I'm sure I'm not the only one who thinks music in the eighties was better. It isn't nostalgia at all - there was a genuine upbeat feel to the decade. Even the angry punks were happy gobbing at each other. Heck, I still believed I could be a rock star back then. That's how optimistic we were. Of course we didn't have Simon Cowell to puncture our dreams back then. I therefore deduce that Mr Cowell is single-handedly responsible for destroying music as we know it. He is the anti-christ (Sorry Ozzy, love the music, but you're only the Prince of Medium Greyness). Anyway, I spent a happy few hours remembering where I was when songs first came out. I cannot believe how much time I'd spent in pubs. Talking of music, yesterday afternoon I heard a brass band out in the street. What's that all about? All the traffic outside was at a standstill, and it turned out to be a parade of some sort, loads of kids in uniforms. It's just as well they held the parade on the Sunday, because... Weather Report of the Week The weather girl popped up on the screen and smiled sweetly for the benefit of the viewers. Why is Britain always beige? Haven't we got a more vibrant colour? Whatever happened to Cool Britannia? Oh hang on... The map is turning blue from midnight onward... "Yes" Said the Weather Girl in happy mode, "I'm afraid the weather is going to get worse from this point on". Rain. Buckets of it. Just in time for Monday morning. You just can't beat British weather can you?

I'd have to bow to your superior experience there. It just seems that after the withdrawal of colonialism, the local tribes have rubbed each other up the wrong way and spurred on by the value of natural resources and the influence of arms dealers. After all, the abortive coup in Equatorial Guinea was about nothing more that profit from natural resources. One aspect of African strife that I notice is the lack of ideological struggles. Although the Cold War supported one side or another as they did elsewhere, the issue was always something more corrupt. Perhaps though my image of Africa is sponsored by the media. It does seem to be backed up by the accounts of mercenaries I come across - but again, they operate in dangerous areas anyway.

I think we'd realise how undramatic and ordinary life would seem to be. Historical events would seem to happen quickly too. Battles however would be drawn out affairs where nothing much happens except a lot of milling around and noise.

Good luck with your book. Although the period is a bit later than your own chosen one, you really ought to get hold of this book to describe the experience of visiting Rome... http://www.unrv.com/book-review/five-denarii-a-day.php

There's a strange phenomenon that takes place when Swindon gets bad press. You suddenly find hordes of people who say "We like it." Swindon has tried ceaselessly to reinvent itself ever since the railworks closed. Out with the old, in with the new, oops we made mistake, look at our brand new plan. In fairness, the pace of beautification is increasing. The victorian pidgeon nets are vanishing, plans to reintroduce the canals throughn the town center are in place, and architects impressions of wide pedestrian areas between tall glass buildings regularly put on display. It's not all plans and ideas though. There's an italianate influence in the new architecture. You can't help feeling that the town planners took a holiday in Tuscany and discovered the outside world really was prettier. The biggest problem with Swindon though is exactly what it always was - the people who live there. Another cannabis farm was uncovered by police in a house half a mile from mine just the other day. Graffiti Mice are breeding and leaving lots of territory markers on any available surface. Supermarkets are now refusing to deliver in some parts of Swindon in the evenings. On the way to the libraray today I passed a group of four men arguing about who the girlfriend belonged to, and it wasn't calm polite exchange. Motorbikes blast along any straight road with engines howling, often with front wheels in the air, regardless of situation. Kids gather on streets and everyone, including number ten buses, have to go around them. The alleyway behind my home has become so filled with discarded windows, piano's, bottles, exercise machines, childrens toys, cardboard, sofa's, and the occaisional mattress that someone has now decided that throwing their rubbish into my front yard is a good idea. This is what I mean about our local population. They seem to want this urban degradation around them as it's their natural habitat. I guess they would say "If you don't like it, go somewhere else". That attitude, above all else, is why Swindon will never be beautiful. Speeding Fine of the Week A granny has just been fined for speeding on her moped which has a maximum speed of 8mph. That's the trouble with speed camera's, they've left the police without anything to do.

Less tax? I'd keep quiet if I were you. One of our politicians might read this

If your travellers are accused of theft they get dealt with accordingly. They might not be able to continue to Rome as the authorities wouldn't want thieves walking around at large. That said, why would a Roman magistrate believe a wild accusation? If you stole the animals, wouldn't you still have them? Be careful of witchcraft. The Romans are a superstitious people. Nothing else will generate false accusations as the knowledge you dabble in such things.