it happened on the way to the forum: regnum romanum

The podcast is dead; long live the podcast. Searching for something to make the long commutes home pass a little quicker—and without the distraction of giving lip-service to learning a new language with those audio-lessons, I rediscovered a cache of podcasts, easy too download and enjoy on the drive on some really engrossing subjects. There are hundreds of episodes (possibly discontinued) available at no cost, which are far from dry lectures, which cover the entire history, from legendary beginnings, the monarchy, the new republic, the imperium and downfall—with lots of exciting cliffhangers and interesting asides. Just at the start of this adventure, I was really impressed with the stories of the early, semi-legendary kings and the highly moralising and indemnifying way the fables had been crafted over the millennia to make a myth of civic-pride and belonging. I really did not know what stories the Romans made for themselves to mark the transition from the sack of Troy to recorded history, but the tale picks up with Prince Aeneas and the other refugees from Troy received as guests by the kingdom of Alba Longa in central Italy, and the king of the Latins weds his daughter to the exiled prince, whose ancestors rule the land for generations.
Familial strife came around when the brother of the rightful king took control of the treasury, including the gold brought from Troy and installed himself as ruler. In order to prevent any heirs from reclaiming the thrown, the uncle had the king's daughter locked away and sworn to celibacy. The gods had other plans, however (and this is really one of the few times that there is divine intervention in the human affairs of Rome), and the god Mars—or according to some sources, the demi-god Hercules—sired twins by the king's daughter. Outraged, the uncle ordered the children drowned in the Tiber by a huntsman—although the river was low at the time and the huntsman was loath to slog through the mud and so just left the twins in a basket. The babies were found by a She-Wolf and a Woodpecker (possibly an ancestor of the twins transformed into a bird for rebuffing the amorous advances of the witch Circe) who took care of them, until a shepherd and his wife found them and raised them as their own. Eventually word of these wonder-twins got back to the wicked uncle and he decided to investigate. Cued into the truth about their birthright, Romulus and Remus, as they were called, defeated the wicked uncle and restored their grandfather to his rightful place. While the could have inherited Alba, the twins wanted to found a new settlement, Romulus opting for the Palatine Hill and Remus for the Aventine. Having learnt the art of augury from Pictus the Woodpecker, they proposed to settle the matter that way.

When Remus refuses to relent to his brother's interpretation, however, much like his wicked uncle, Romulus kills him and goes on to found the City of Rome and establish its first political and military institutions—the Senate of Patricians, descendants of the Trojan refugees, and the Legions, a militia where rank is bestowed by what kind of horses, weapons and armour each can afford to bring to defence (and offence) of the city. Having gotten off to this start, Rome's neighbouring tribes did not want anything to do with the new city, including Alba Longa, fearful that Romulus would to try usurp more power. In order to grow in size and strength, increasing the population which only consisted of bureaucrats and soldiers at that point, Romulus began inviting in any and all of the dispossessed—and pirates, thieves, highwaymen, mercenaries and other unsavoury exiles came to the new city to start over. It was a good ploy to grow the new city but as the immigrant population was exclusively male, Romulus realised that the city would soon wither away. As bringing in more personae non grata made the Romans even less desirable, Romulus concocted a plan to abduct wives for his people. A bit of trickery similar to Odysseus' Trojan Horse, Roman announced a huge feast to celebrate the god Neptune and invited all the local tribes as a gesture of good-will. Many came, including the Sabines, who were strictly against inter-marriage. At the height of the party, the Romans advanced on the Sabine women and tried to steal them away. Their husbands, fathers and brothers quickly came to the rescue and intense fighting followed. The women then through themselves into the fray, standing in between fighting Roman and Sabine, imploring them to stop the fighting and offering themselves to their Roman abductors, proclaiming that they would rather die themselves than live as orphans or widow-makers.
This did not, of course, go over so well either but the Kingdom of Rome saw its founding. I wondered why Rome would choose (if it had a choice in the matter) to have such unscrupulous beginnings with expatriates, fratricide, a citizenry of brigands and rape, when they could have limned a more flattering and authoritative origin. Maybe this license becomes clearer in episodes. It is also pretty remarkable how Rome was built in a day—in terms of its signature and guiding organisations at least, but I suppose that that is pretty common for the semi-mythical. If it is not already the case, I suspect that people—five-hundred years from now, will have forgotten about the pantheon of America's Founding Fathers and be satisfied knowing only this George Washington, who was born of a Cherry Tree—with the wooden teeth to prove it—and single-handedly defeated the British and wrote the US constitution and the Republic emerged whole, like Athena bursting from the head of Zeus, fully-formed. Romulus' reign lasted about forty-years and was assumed into the realm of the gods—deified as Quirinius, the embodiment of Rome—while making a public sacrifice.

unkraut or worldwide weed

Surviving the past three winters or so, exposed on the balcony, is a venerable old dandelion (Taraxacum officinale) that one day took up root in this since vacated pot. Even after the monk and botanist Gregor Mendel developed the theory of heredity by selecting for visible and measurable traits over successive generations of peas in a pod in the mid-1800s, many people still held to the once popular theory of spontaneous generation: that flies and worms and other vermin did not have natural parentage and arose out of the slime and muck and generally poor house-keeping.
I wonder if people believed the same about weeds (Unkräuter)—although the concept of weeds in gardening is a relatively new invention and heretofore certainly was not applied to the dandelion. The common and polite name for the flower does not have anything to do with its yellow bloom that some might find reminiscent of a lion's mane, but it is rather a corruption of the French for teeth of the lion, for its jagged leaves. That seems a little less iconic, but the modern name is a euphemism (Greek for “a holy silence”) its old reputation, when still considered Kraut—an herb with medicinal properties, rather than some worthless, old Unkraut. Originally, the plant was called in French pissenlit—wet the bed—because it was a diuretic, and native to all parts of the earth, there were many colourful, local variations on that phenomena. Being the lingua franca, it sought to clean up the world's vocabulary a bit. A similar sort of mannerly substitution occurred in English by inventing the words donkey and rooster to avoid saying something offensive. Tending a few weeds should cause no alarm, no matter the company.

mail-order or to be determined

BLDGBlog shares a glimpse of New Future Lab's latest print catalog that offers a dizzying array of products and services for shoppers in an imagined near future.

It draws on science-fiction and the speculations (and warnings) of futurists to imagine the marketing and packaging of some life-enhancing merchandise. The description of some of the items is appropriately tongue-in-cheek and there's a healthy bit of circumspection here vis-à-vis our own consumption and buying patterns, but a lot of these visions, gimmicks—neither too dark nor too utopian and post-commercial—could be realised in a few years time, perhaps kick-started by this very catalog. Though I am sort leagues better, it makes me think of those sleek, with some sort of retro-feeling, catalogs of promising, luxurious gadgets that they have on airplanes, which seem to always make for good reading-material.

pay the piper

One hundred prominent German authors have joined in protest with many members of the American literati over the apparently manipulative business model of one of the biggest book markets.
It seems that publishing houses who resist subscribing to the low royalty rates that the online retailer is pushing is finding delays with delivery and long wait-times for the availability of its titles, in addition to problems with negotiating contracts. On the side of the publishers, there have also been accusations of collusion in pricing and pittance to writers—over the pricing pressure that the seller demands. Authors certainly ought to have a say in their livelihoods and creativity should not be made to suffer over the petty embargoes of warehousing and shipping, but it seems that the strife was nascent at the beginning of selling books on-line: a very clever idea that took down those commercial libraries and pulp-cartels and provided a success way for people to expand their reading network (though at the expense of smaller shops). Along came electronic books, however, and the expectation of free or nominal costs for print not bound or committed to paper—and neither seller or sadly author can expect much of a commission. What do you think? Does this on-line book seller (diversified to all sorts of products now) pose a threat to literature—or are these just the advances and terms of a book deal taken to the shop?

rayon x ou petites curies

A brilliant dispatch from Mental Floss relates the story of Marie Curies' inspired frustration and determination not to sit idly by as the horrors of WWI intruded into her homeland.

Dissatisfied with mere fidutiary contributions and recognising that the trench warfare was rough-shod and merciless, Curie and her daughter undertook a harrowing journey—without hesitation—retrieving a ingot of Radium that she had isolated from a bank safe deposit-box in Bordeaux and invented the science of radiology, radiography and disciplines of nuclear medicine (which no one could question owing to its novelty), learnt to drive an ambulance and single-handedly triage field hospitals (the recruiting and training of medics came later) equipped with x-ray equipment to help surgeons better assess and treat battle-damage and provide some heavy-handed sterilisation. Eventually succumbing to her own life-saving techniques, I imagine that the ingenious scientist was all too aware of the risk in her methods, which make the artefacts (her laboratory equipment, notebooks and clothing that are still radioactive), while pushing for progress in the techniques, a legacy of danger, imagination and outright bravery.

minced oath or peacock not proud

The mire of war and meddling is always fertile ground for euphemism.  The US government, after the admission that humanitarian airstrikes are basically ineffective, more dazzle and sleight-of-hand, and that the refugee-corridor of those fleeing the violence remains unprotected, despite pledges that the combat phase of the Iraqi entanglement is over and there will be no more boots on the ground (parenthetically, in a combat role), is sending additional assessors to Northern Iraq to act as military advisers. These five hundred or so newly arrived troops are in addition to the force of eight-hundred acting as minders for the embassy and airport.
It’s a challenge to talk around the subject, just as it was with such figments as detainees for unlawful enemy combatants or Global War on Terrorism to Overseas Contingency Operations.  Naming-conventions aside and focusing on the real and immediate problems of the Iraqi people, I find this overall America programme of break-to-own (which is present in other aspects as well and not just military intervention) highly disturbing.  Among those stranded in the mountains and facing a slow but sure death, unable to return to their homelands, are the Yazidi, who ISIS wish to purge along with the other ethnic and religious minorities of Iraq to keep Islam pure.  The Yazidi are conflated as devil-worshippers by many outsiders because of their reverence for their chief holy caretaker, the Peacock Angel (Tawûsê Melek, مَلَك طَاوُوس).  Like Lucifer of other traditions, the Peacock Angel was introduced to God’s newest creation, Man, and asked to bow before him.  Both the Peacock Angel and Satan refused God’s request but for different reasons: the former out of loyal piety and the latter out of pride.  Both archangels were expelled, but the Yazidi caretaker is not regarded as a fallen angel but rather a redeemed one, who having repented, was forgiven.  Though this article of faith is much more than just a moral, I think there is a lesson to be learnt here about ethical obligations always trumping rhetoric and political aspirations.

meanwhile, back at the ranch

Isn't it a enjoy how everything is delivered just in time and in a neat little package to assuage the capitalists?

Mexico, which has a staunch reputation for protecting its native resources and treasures—even going so far as to forbid the import or shedding of American genetically-altered foodstuffs (but who would know, since Mexico only makes the news for its trespasses), has agreed after seven decades to relax the state monopoly on the petroleum industry and allow American and European concerns, chomping at the bit access to vast, untapped reserves. That such an announcement comes unheralded at the moment when American influence in the Middle East is collapsing and Russia threatens to cut-off the EU is quite a marvelous coincidence that bears no further investigation, as providence takes care of its own, even when the reporting is magical-thinking.