Exciting news from the Land that Time Forgot! According to this blog's unlikely occurrences reporter Tasmania is becoming a land of hipsters. Apparently the signs are there for those who want to see them. Smashed avocado is being served on plates in cafes rather than bouncing off your head after annoying a local farmer. Cultural stuff is happening and not just in cheese vats and some of the more modern clothing is high quality imitations of the stuff Tasmanians have been wearing for generations. The presence of wooden bow ties and beard oil at the local markets was the absolute clincher.
"Tasmania," announced my correspondent, "has arrived!"
"Arrived where?" I asked; my correspondent was a little more vague on that.
I must admit I have no idea how a wooden bow tie might be used (ironically one suspects) and as for beard oil I honestly thought this was just a result of working on your car without shaving first. Still this is definitely big news for a state where sex education involves persuading the kids to keep their hands off their siblings. To celebrate Tasmania's inclusion in some of the more unfortunate aspects of modern society my correspondent has decided to go to a Moroccan music performance which is being performed by Moroccan musicians.
It's great to have such performances in Tasmania (or indeed anywhere), it introduces people to the wonder of other cultures, broadens their experience of the human condition and most importantly allows people from poor countries to engage in overseas travel. Hopefully the Moroccan musicians will take time out from serenading people so ridiculously wealthy that they can pay to listen to Moroccan musicians and visit some of the sights of Tasmania while they're here. I understand they can pick up a wicked wooden bow tie at the markets. And I'm sure they would be crazy for beard oil.
This is part of the joy of foreign travel, wandering around gawking at all the ways the country you're visiting differs from your own. Hopefully our Moroccan guests don't get sick or they will discover that when it comes to health care Tasmania is a little closer to Morocco than even Morocco would be comfortable with. Hobart Hospital is a never ending source of amusement for my correspondent. An amusement edged with naked terror that she or her children might have to rely on it for medical treatment. It is the second oldest hospital in Australia and as you can imagine requires a bit of upkeep.
Currently one of the major concerns is chunks of asbestos falling onto patients, staff and the construction workers currently attempting to deal with issues like chunks of asbestos falling on patients and staff. Another is the mould in the shipping crates. It was intended that while the more permanent bits of the hospital were being patched up (gluing the asbestos back into place and that sort of thing) a group of large shipping crates were brought in to act as prefabricated buildings. Unfortunately they leaked and the ensuing mould rendered them unfit for human habitation.
Meanwhile apparently the hospital has lost its accreditation for psychiatric care training because its an unsafe working environment. That is, it's unsafe for people who are actually healthy and don't need medical attention. Hopefully its a little more safe for such of the patients as manage to claw their way through the overcrowded emergency room and into the putative safety of a ward. Mind the asbestos on your way in.
I suggested privatisation to my correspondent as a way of possibly solving these issues. She responded by pointing out that no one in their right mind would buy it. It's a little difficult to argue with that, I rather suspect anyone who would be prepared to buy it is probably the sort of person you don't want running a hospital. Although to be fair it would appear that the sort of people you really don't want running a hospital are the Tasmanian Health Service.
Wednesday, August 16, 2017
Tuesday, August 15, 2017
Birthday Greetings #70
Happy birthday to Albert II, King of the Romans. You know how this goes, King of the Romans meant Holy Roman Emperor only he didn't get crowned by the pope. There was some confusion about his actual date of birth it seems. Wikipedia says he was born on the 10th of August whereas the online Encyclopaedia Britannica claims 16th August as the birthdate. Despite my fondness for Wikipedia I've decided to allow my inner snob to decide that I should follow the Britannica in this instance rather than celebrate his birthday six days ago.
Albert, a Habsburg naturally, was born (whatever the date) in Vienna as the son of the Duke of Austria. Due to his father coming down with a severe case of death he wound up as Duke himself (as Albert V) at the age of seven. This was a little unfortunate as he was surrounded by rapacious relatives. One of the reasons for the Habsburgs subsequent dynastic exhaustion some centuries into the future (apart from their predilection for marrying their cousins) was a series of ruthless power struggles within the family itself which whittled down the number of available Habsburgs.
Since a seven year old couldn't be trusted to effectively oppress the peasants his uncle, Duke William of Inner Austria (known apparently without irony as William the Courteous), stepped in as regent and he and his two brothers helped to essentially carve up and loot Albert's patrimony. Still they didn't actually murder Albert and he managed to get a good education from somewhere (this was early fifteenth century Europe so "good education" was a somewhat relative term). Albert eventually entered into his majority and managed to chase his irritating family out of the duchy.
With something approximating peace restored to his territories Albert could take a deep breath and decide what to do with his life. He decided to marry the daughter of Sigismund the King of Hungary. This was a brilliant idea, the King of Hungary (actually a German from the House of Luxembourg) had strong imperial connections. Indeed his cousin was King of the Romans until Rupert of Germany (who got a thoroughly undeserved birthday shout out recently) snaffled the crown.
Although brilliant politically the marriage did mean that Albert had to help Sigismund out with his wars and Sigismund seemed to have rather a lot of them. During the course of these wars (against Hussites mainly) Austria got overrun and plundered a fair bit. On the plus side Sigismund was grateful for the assistance and in the absence of any male offspring made Albert his heir. This took on even more significance when Sigismund managed to get himself elected King of the Romans.
When Sigismund finally died in 1437 Albert, humble Duke of Austria (he was a Habsburg so I doubt he was that humble) wound up as King of Hungary. Moving his court from Vienna to Hungary he immediately got into a war with the Bohemians. You see Sigismund had somehow managed to wangle the Bohemian crown as well and Albert figured he might as well grab that one too. While he was busy fighting the Bohemians (who didn't seem keen on him as their king) the Electors of the empire, apparently without reference to him, appointed him King of the Romans. It had been a couple of centuries since the Habsburg family had held the imperial crown. With the exception of a brief interlude in the 1700s they were never to let go of it again.
Albert ruled the empire from Hungary and in 1438 officially ended all feuds based on the right of private warfare within the empire. Since Albert himself died the next year in the course of some very public warfare against the Turks its unlikely that too many people paid attention at the time but a precedent had been set and future emperors would use it to cut down on internal disputes.
Albert was known as Albert the Magnanimous for reasons which are unclear. Possibly it was the way he magnanimously burnt the Jewish population of Vienna at the stake and demolished their synagogue. If his uncle could get the epithet "the Courteous" simply because he didn't murder everyone he met stranger things have happened.
Albert, a Habsburg naturally, was born (whatever the date) in Vienna as the son of the Duke of Austria. Due to his father coming down with a severe case of death he wound up as Duke himself (as Albert V) at the age of seven. This was a little unfortunate as he was surrounded by rapacious relatives. One of the reasons for the Habsburgs subsequent dynastic exhaustion some centuries into the future (apart from their predilection for marrying their cousins) was a series of ruthless power struggles within the family itself which whittled down the number of available Habsburgs.
Since a seven year old couldn't be trusted to effectively oppress the peasants his uncle, Duke William of Inner Austria (known apparently without irony as William the Courteous), stepped in as regent and he and his two brothers helped to essentially carve up and loot Albert's patrimony. Still they didn't actually murder Albert and he managed to get a good education from somewhere (this was early fifteenth century Europe so "good education" was a somewhat relative term). Albert eventually entered into his majority and managed to chase his irritating family out of the duchy.
With something approximating peace restored to his territories Albert could take a deep breath and decide what to do with his life. He decided to marry the daughter of Sigismund the King of Hungary. This was a brilliant idea, the King of Hungary (actually a German from the House of Luxembourg) had strong imperial connections. Indeed his cousin was King of the Romans until Rupert of Germany (who got a thoroughly undeserved birthday shout out recently) snaffled the crown.
Although brilliant politically the marriage did mean that Albert had to help Sigismund out with his wars and Sigismund seemed to have rather a lot of them. During the course of these wars (against Hussites mainly) Austria got overrun and plundered a fair bit. On the plus side Sigismund was grateful for the assistance and in the absence of any male offspring made Albert his heir. This took on even more significance when Sigismund managed to get himself elected King of the Romans.
When Sigismund finally died in 1437 Albert, humble Duke of Austria (he was a Habsburg so I doubt he was that humble) wound up as King of Hungary. Moving his court from Vienna to Hungary he immediately got into a war with the Bohemians. You see Sigismund had somehow managed to wangle the Bohemian crown as well and Albert figured he might as well grab that one too. While he was busy fighting the Bohemians (who didn't seem keen on him as their king) the Electors of the empire, apparently without reference to him, appointed him King of the Romans. It had been a couple of centuries since the Habsburg family had held the imperial crown. With the exception of a brief interlude in the 1700s they were never to let go of it again.
Albert ruled the empire from Hungary and in 1438 officially ended all feuds based on the right of private warfare within the empire. Since Albert himself died the next year in the course of some very public warfare against the Turks its unlikely that too many people paid attention at the time but a precedent had been set and future emperors would use it to cut down on internal disputes.
Albert was known as Albert the Magnanimous for reasons which are unclear. Possibly it was the way he magnanimously burnt the Jewish population of Vienna at the stake and demolished their synagogue. If his uncle could get the epithet "the Courteous" simply because he didn't murder everyone he met stranger things have happened.
Wednesday, August 9, 2017
Here Today, Guam Tomorrow
The imminent disappearance of the island of Guam beneath a rain of North Korean missiles prompted me to investigate this little known jewel of the Pacific.
Of course the term "little known jewel of the Pacific" is a trifle inaccurate. Guam is thoroughly well known to those who live there, the military based there, the thousands of Japanese tourists who visit there each year and its existence is acknowledged at least in a theoretical sense by the government of the United States itself. As for "jewel of the Pacific" well I'm sure Guam is terribly nice (all those tourists can't be wrong) but let's face it the Pacific Ocean is absolutely littered with photogenic islands shamelessly flaunting their translucent waters, abundant fish and white sand to a jaded public. No doubt Guam is up there with the rest but the Pacific sets the benchmark pretty high.
So when I said my term was a trifle inaccurate I was being a trifle inaccurate. It would be more accurate to say, "totally inaccurate". If anybody can work their way through the preceding couple of sentences and tell me what I was talking about I would be eternally grateful. And by eternally grateful I mean mildly appreciative right now.
Now Guam who's greatest threat to date was a small brown snake (twelve bird species extinct and counting) is apparently in danger of being the subject of North Korea's dreadful retribution for the nasty things that Donald Trump said about them or something. President Trump apparently threatened fire and fury (as opposed to smoke and sarcasm) in response to statements made by North Korea which (and I'm paraphrasing here) threatened fire and fury.
The problem with getting your foreign news from the Guardian (as I do) is that everything is always Donald Trump's fault. I'm not saying this is wrong necessarily but it does mean an ill informed reader could come away with the impression that Trump created North Korea so he could say inflammatory things about it. North Korea threatened "physical retaliation" in response to the latest sanctions slapped on their country and Trump responded with the fire and fury line which at least rolls of the tongue a little better. The various Guardian contributors were united in agreeing how terribly dreadful, destabilising and war mongering it was of Trump to respond to a threat of violence with a threat of violence. What came next from North Korea was to my mind deeply disturbing.
The North Koreans threatened to drop missiles into the waters around Guam. Some idiot at the Guardian thought this represented close calculation by the North Koreans (as opposed to that crazed war mongering idiot in the White House). The Guardian column went to point out that this indicated a lesser target and a more restrained action. True, however it didn't seem to draw the obvious conclusion. In the past the North Koreans have threatened nuclear annihilation on the United States, the bringing down a rain of, oh what's the term?, oh yes, fire and fury on Washington and blah blah blah. It was all crazy rhetoric and nobody took it seriously if only because the North Koreans physically couldn't do what they were threatening. Now they've stopped the crazy, generic threats nobody believes and have come up with a highly specific, closely targeted threat against a reachable objective.
If you think that sounds like moderation then consider this. If someone you met in the street threatened to drop an atomic bomb on your house you would know he was crazy and ignore him. If he threatened to hit you around the head with a baseball bat you might take him a lot more seriously because that is something he can probably do. I don't think that the North Koreans making rational threats rather than irrational ones is a hopeful sign. I think its actually a threat.
Of course the term "little known jewel of the Pacific" is a trifle inaccurate. Guam is thoroughly well known to those who live there, the military based there, the thousands of Japanese tourists who visit there each year and its existence is acknowledged at least in a theoretical sense by the government of the United States itself. As for "jewel of the Pacific" well I'm sure Guam is terribly nice (all those tourists can't be wrong) but let's face it the Pacific Ocean is absolutely littered with photogenic islands shamelessly flaunting their translucent waters, abundant fish and white sand to a jaded public. No doubt Guam is up there with the rest but the Pacific sets the benchmark pretty high.
So when I said my term was a trifle inaccurate I was being a trifle inaccurate. It would be more accurate to say, "totally inaccurate". If anybody can work their way through the preceding couple of sentences and tell me what I was talking about I would be eternally grateful. And by eternally grateful I mean mildly appreciative right now.
Now Guam who's greatest threat to date was a small brown snake (twelve bird species extinct and counting) is apparently in danger of being the subject of North Korea's dreadful retribution for the nasty things that Donald Trump said about them or something. President Trump apparently threatened fire and fury (as opposed to smoke and sarcasm) in response to statements made by North Korea which (and I'm paraphrasing here) threatened fire and fury.
The problem with getting your foreign news from the Guardian (as I do) is that everything is always Donald Trump's fault. I'm not saying this is wrong necessarily but it does mean an ill informed reader could come away with the impression that Trump created North Korea so he could say inflammatory things about it. North Korea threatened "physical retaliation" in response to the latest sanctions slapped on their country and Trump responded with the fire and fury line which at least rolls of the tongue a little better. The various Guardian contributors were united in agreeing how terribly dreadful, destabilising and war mongering it was of Trump to respond to a threat of violence with a threat of violence. What came next from North Korea was to my mind deeply disturbing.
The North Koreans threatened to drop missiles into the waters around Guam. Some idiot at the Guardian thought this represented close calculation by the North Koreans (as opposed to that crazed war mongering idiot in the White House). The Guardian column went to point out that this indicated a lesser target and a more restrained action. True, however it didn't seem to draw the obvious conclusion. In the past the North Koreans have threatened nuclear annihilation on the United States, the bringing down a rain of, oh what's the term?, oh yes, fire and fury on Washington and blah blah blah. It was all crazy rhetoric and nobody took it seriously if only because the North Koreans physically couldn't do what they were threatening. Now they've stopped the crazy, generic threats nobody believes and have come up with a highly specific, closely targeted threat against a reachable objective.
If you think that sounds like moderation then consider this. If someone you met in the street threatened to drop an atomic bomb on your house you would know he was crazy and ignore him. If he threatened to hit you around the head with a baseball bat you might take him a lot more seriously because that is something he can probably do. I don't think that the North Koreans making rational threats rather than irrational ones is a hopeful sign. I think its actually a threat.
Sunday, August 6, 2017
Birthday Greetings #69
I've trolled back through previous blog entries and I'm pretty sure I haven't given this guy a birthday shout out before. I hope not, it's becoming embarrassing. Still, in the hopes that my rather haphazard due diligence is accurate, happy birthday to Constantius II, Roman emperor.
Constantius was the son of the previous emperor, Constantine the Great who had reunified the empire through a series of civil wars after its administrative separation under Diocletian. Then, on his deathbed Constantine deunified it again by leaving the empire to his three sons each of whom got a chunk of the territory.
The three sons incidentally were named Constans, Constantine and Constantius which indicates either a lack of imagination on their father's part or a simple desire not to have to remember the names of his children. Constantine got the bit on the left (Britain, Gaul, Spain, Mauretania), Constans got the bit in the middle (Italy, Africa, Illyria, Macedonia etc) and our boy got the bit on the right (Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt, Thrace and the city of Constantinople itself). Constantius also inherited a war with the Persians which he was probably somewhat less grateful for.
Oh yes, there were a couple of cousins who also got small patches of the empire for their very own but to commemorate his father's death Constantius initiated (or was the totally unwitting beneficiary of) a bloodbath of various members of the imperial family which left just the three sons and a couple of odd (very odd) cousins standing. With the lines of inheritance conveniently cleared Constantius settled down to rule. War with the Persians was top of the agenda but whereas his father had all the resources of the empire to fight them with Constantius had to make to with effectively a third of that. His response was what we would now call a strategic defensive (and what was at the time suggested to be cowardice and incompetence). Fortified cities would hold vital points while the bulk of the army would be held back to counterattack any Persian troops who got through. This worked for several years but was rather tough on the people who lived in the areas that Constantius had written off as undefensible.
Constantius has got rather a bad press from historians. This is partly because his successor was a spectacular failure rather than a boring success and partly for religious reasons. Constantius was condemned as an adherent of the Arian heresy and his reputation amongst religious historians (and most historians were religious, nobody else had the time and leisure to write histories) suffered as a result. It seems that Constantius wasn't a card carrying Arian but rather favoured some sort of compromise that would bring Arians and Orthodox together. Naturally the Orthodox hated him. If the Arians had won they would probably have hated him too.
He was also supposed to be nervous, paranoid and utterly under the control of the eunuchs who made up his government. Given the death rate in imperial families at the time being nervous and paranoid could better be described as vital survival traits. As for the eunuch thing, well maybe but unless you plan to deal with every single bit of paperwork yourself then as emperor you kind of have to rely on your officials. Some (and by some I mean "all") of these were corrupt but most of them were competent and the administration of the empire certainly didn't collapse during Constantius' time which was pretty impressive considering the strains it was under.
Over in the left two thirds of the empire things had been changing. Constans, ruler of the middle bit of the empire, had been a minor when he had come to the throne and his brother Constantine had excercised a sort of guardianship over him. Constans grew up and told his brother he didn't need guarding any more.
"Oh yes you do," replied Constantine.
"Who from," demanded Constans.
"Me!"
Bold words but Constans proved a precocious little tyke and defeated (and killed) his brother and took over his part of the empire which he ruled for ten years. At the end of that time the commander of his guard units murdered him and took over his part of the empire.
Constantius was having none of it though. Brother on brother murder was all very well but there was no way an outsider was going to be allowed to get away with spilling the imperial blood. Hastily grabbing a convenient cousin and appointing him Caesar (with special responsibility for taking the blame if the Persians invaded) Constantius gathered together all the troops he could raise and marched west. His forces met those of the usurper at the Battle of Mursa Major sometimes known as the day the Roman army committed suicide. Casualties on both sides were appalling but Constantius won the day and chased his opponent into Italy (pausing to beat up some Sarmatians en route). After another defeat the usurper (his name was Magnentius by the way) committed suicide and Constantius was ruler of the whole Roman empire.
Which was useful because his attention was suddenly called back to the east. His cousin Gallus whom he had appointed Caesar in the east had, apparently been making an almighty hash of things. Cruelty, tyranny and the slaughter of prominent citizens (and probably non prominent citizens as well but nobody cared about such things) could perhaps be forgiven if they hadn't been accompanied by mismanagement. Antioch was suffering from a famine, the Persians were getting restive, the army was getting mutinous and tax revenues were declining. From his current base at Milan (then called something longer and more tedious) Constantius ordered Gallus to appear in the imperial presence and explain himself. Somewhat reluctantly Gallus did so. He explained himself by blaming everything on his wife who had conveniently died recently. This didn't impress Constantius too much not least because said wife was his own sister and he ordered his cousin's execution. Apparently he changed his mind shortly afterwards but those sneaky eunuchs delayed the arrival of the reprieve until Gallus was safely dead.
Constantius had spent a couple of years in the west campaigning against barbarians, stamping out a couple of other plots and generally doing emperor stuff but with the deteriorating situation in the east it was obvious he had to leave. However he needed somebody he could rely on to hold down the west while he was gone. Obviously it had to be family, unfortunately he had already killed most of his family. Hastily scrabbling through ancestry.com he discovered another cousin by the name of Julian. Julian was an odd fish who had spent most of his time buried in the study of ancient Greece and avoiding his cousin's attention (I said he was odd, I didn't say he was stupid). Well, so much for the scholarly life. Julian was dragged out of Athens, wrapped in imperial purple and dumped in Gaul as Caesar of the West while Constantius marched east to deal with the Persians and such like.
In his absence the Persians had captured places, devastated stuff and generally fire and sworded whole areas. Constantius was forced into attempts to recapture territory. The initial campaigning was inconclusive and Constantius pulled back to Antioch to regroup. He'd beaten up on the Persians a bit but if he wanted an outright victory he needed more troops. He sent a quick message back to his Julian ordering detachments of the western army to join him for the next campaign.
Julian responded by declaring himself emperor and marching his entire army towards Constantius. With a definite "here we go again" air Constantius gathered up his own troops and headed off to meet just the latest in a whole series of family disappointments. It didn't come to a battle though. By this time Constantius was seriously ill and it soon became apparent to him that the end was coming. On his deathbed he announced Julian as his legitimate successor and then died. Julian made a big show of giving him a magnificent funeral because, well you do don't you?
Constantius was the son of the previous emperor, Constantine the Great who had reunified the empire through a series of civil wars after its administrative separation under Diocletian. Then, on his deathbed Constantine deunified it again by leaving the empire to his three sons each of whom got a chunk of the territory.
The three sons incidentally were named Constans, Constantine and Constantius which indicates either a lack of imagination on their father's part or a simple desire not to have to remember the names of his children. Constantine got the bit on the left (Britain, Gaul, Spain, Mauretania), Constans got the bit in the middle (Italy, Africa, Illyria, Macedonia etc) and our boy got the bit on the right (Asia Minor, Syria, Egypt, Thrace and the city of Constantinople itself). Constantius also inherited a war with the Persians which he was probably somewhat less grateful for.
Oh yes, there were a couple of cousins who also got small patches of the empire for their very own but to commemorate his father's death Constantius initiated (or was the totally unwitting beneficiary of) a bloodbath of various members of the imperial family which left just the three sons and a couple of odd (very odd) cousins standing. With the lines of inheritance conveniently cleared Constantius settled down to rule. War with the Persians was top of the agenda but whereas his father had all the resources of the empire to fight them with Constantius had to make to with effectively a third of that. His response was what we would now call a strategic defensive (and what was at the time suggested to be cowardice and incompetence). Fortified cities would hold vital points while the bulk of the army would be held back to counterattack any Persian troops who got through. This worked for several years but was rather tough on the people who lived in the areas that Constantius had written off as undefensible.
Constantius has got rather a bad press from historians. This is partly because his successor was a spectacular failure rather than a boring success and partly for religious reasons. Constantius was condemned as an adherent of the Arian heresy and his reputation amongst religious historians (and most historians were religious, nobody else had the time and leisure to write histories) suffered as a result. It seems that Constantius wasn't a card carrying Arian but rather favoured some sort of compromise that would bring Arians and Orthodox together. Naturally the Orthodox hated him. If the Arians had won they would probably have hated him too.
He was also supposed to be nervous, paranoid and utterly under the control of the eunuchs who made up his government. Given the death rate in imperial families at the time being nervous and paranoid could better be described as vital survival traits. As for the eunuch thing, well maybe but unless you plan to deal with every single bit of paperwork yourself then as emperor you kind of have to rely on your officials. Some (and by some I mean "all") of these were corrupt but most of them were competent and the administration of the empire certainly didn't collapse during Constantius' time which was pretty impressive considering the strains it was under.
Over in the left two thirds of the empire things had been changing. Constans, ruler of the middle bit of the empire, had been a minor when he had come to the throne and his brother Constantine had excercised a sort of guardianship over him. Constans grew up and told his brother he didn't need guarding any more.
"Oh yes you do," replied Constantine.
"Who from," demanded Constans.
"Me!"
Bold words but Constans proved a precocious little tyke and defeated (and killed) his brother and took over his part of the empire which he ruled for ten years. At the end of that time the commander of his guard units murdered him and took over his part of the empire.
Constantius was having none of it though. Brother on brother murder was all very well but there was no way an outsider was going to be allowed to get away with spilling the imperial blood. Hastily grabbing a convenient cousin and appointing him Caesar (with special responsibility for taking the blame if the Persians invaded) Constantius gathered together all the troops he could raise and marched west. His forces met those of the usurper at the Battle of Mursa Major sometimes known as the day the Roman army committed suicide. Casualties on both sides were appalling but Constantius won the day and chased his opponent into Italy (pausing to beat up some Sarmatians en route). After another defeat the usurper (his name was Magnentius by the way) committed suicide and Constantius was ruler of the whole Roman empire.
Which was useful because his attention was suddenly called back to the east. His cousin Gallus whom he had appointed Caesar in the east had, apparently been making an almighty hash of things. Cruelty, tyranny and the slaughter of prominent citizens (and probably non prominent citizens as well but nobody cared about such things) could perhaps be forgiven if they hadn't been accompanied by mismanagement. Antioch was suffering from a famine, the Persians were getting restive, the army was getting mutinous and tax revenues were declining. From his current base at Milan (then called something longer and more tedious) Constantius ordered Gallus to appear in the imperial presence and explain himself. Somewhat reluctantly Gallus did so. He explained himself by blaming everything on his wife who had conveniently died recently. This didn't impress Constantius too much not least because said wife was his own sister and he ordered his cousin's execution. Apparently he changed his mind shortly afterwards but those sneaky eunuchs delayed the arrival of the reprieve until Gallus was safely dead.
Constantius had spent a couple of years in the west campaigning against barbarians, stamping out a couple of other plots and generally doing emperor stuff but with the deteriorating situation in the east it was obvious he had to leave. However he needed somebody he could rely on to hold down the west while he was gone. Obviously it had to be family, unfortunately he had already killed most of his family. Hastily scrabbling through ancestry.com he discovered another cousin by the name of Julian. Julian was an odd fish who had spent most of his time buried in the study of ancient Greece and avoiding his cousin's attention (I said he was odd, I didn't say he was stupid). Well, so much for the scholarly life. Julian was dragged out of Athens, wrapped in imperial purple and dumped in Gaul as Caesar of the West while Constantius marched east to deal with the Persians and such like.
In his absence the Persians had captured places, devastated stuff and generally fire and sworded whole areas. Constantius was forced into attempts to recapture territory. The initial campaigning was inconclusive and Constantius pulled back to Antioch to regroup. He'd beaten up on the Persians a bit but if he wanted an outright victory he needed more troops. He sent a quick message back to his Julian ordering detachments of the western army to join him for the next campaign.
Julian responded by declaring himself emperor and marching his entire army towards Constantius. With a definite "here we go again" air Constantius gathered up his own troops and headed off to meet just the latest in a whole series of family disappointments. It didn't come to a battle though. By this time Constantius was seriously ill and it soon became apparent to him that the end was coming. On his deathbed he announced Julian as his legitimate successor and then died. Julian made a big show of giving him a magnificent funeral because, well you do don't you?
Saturday, August 5, 2017
Silly After Action Report
In June 1944 the Allies landed in Normandy. They found the place so appealing that they wound up staying there for much longer than they expected. Since they weren't planning on going back to England any time soon they brought everything they thought they might need with them. Tanks? Hundreds of the armour plated fire spitting monsters. Aircraft? The sky was black with aircraft, thousands of aircraft thundering through the sky and peeling off for that photogenic dive so beloved of propaganda films. Artillery? I cannot emphasise how much artillery there was. There was so much artillery there was barely any room for all of the tanks and aircraft.
Which means that the colonel of a US infantry regiment was entitled to feel a little aggrieved when his attack orders went something like this;
"Take your boys in and dig out the Germans!"
"No problem sir, I assume we have tanks?"
"Er, no the tanks are all busy doing other things at the moment."
"Oh, well I presume our air support will make up for that. The Germans hate our support."
"Actually General Patton's having a bit of an airshow so no can do I'm afraid."
"Now I'm starting to hate our air support. Dare I ask about the artillery?"
"They've got the day off, apparently it's St Barbara's birthday."
"So what do I have?"
"Twenty squads of infantry and a "can do" attitude."
Over on the German side of the lines the conversation went a slightly different course.
"Of course we don't have any tanks, when was the last time you saw a tank? Air support? Do you really want that fat, drug addicted prick dropping ordinance near you? Artillery? For god's sake man, don't you know its St Barbara's birthday? You do have a heavy machine gun but headquarters wants it back at the end of the scenario so try not to get it dirty. Have a great war, I'm off to start my memoirs blaming everything on Hitler."
Life is tough at the sharp end. That's why its called the sharp end and not the soft and cuddly end. Life's pretty good at the soft and cuddly end but before we get there Adam Lunney and I sat down to play BFP 20, Bypassed Lehr. This would pit Adam commanding the aforementioned twenty odd squads of Americans (led by a mighty 9-2) with a collection of medium machine guns and bazookas against yours truly. My Germans consisted of five elite squads and ten squads of second liners making up the numbers. I had a heavy machine gun, a pair of mediums and a panzershreck. Adam was attacking and had to drive my troops out of the buildings on board six (the bottom one), if I could hang on to four of them I would win.
Thanks to buildings, woods and bocage lines of sight were problematic which meant our troops would soon be up close and personal which given the firepower disparity wasn't good news for me. I decided that the buildings far in the right rear would be my final defense line. I set up the hmg to fire down the only convenient road which neatly sliced through the battlefield and a few throwaway squads on the flanks. Up front a mix of dummies and the occasional real squad would hopefully slow him down. The buildings in the centre would be my main line of defence and I set up a force on the left and right to hold them. The plan was to slow Adam down and slowly retreat hopefully presenting a solid defence at the end. As it was there was more dying than retreating but still.
Adam's initial shots vapourised some dummies but otherwise didn't achieve the results he wanted but nothing loath he started to press forward anyway. I very rapidly learnt a painful lesson; when the Americans have squads to burn they're incredibly difficult to stop and their firepower is appalling. He pushed his flankers forward on my left and I dropped concealment to break a squad whereupon the remainder simply rained lead on my hapless troops until they lost all interest in proceedings. In the centre he swarmed forward daring me to fire, I really had to if I didn't want to die for no result. I fired, I got some result and subsequently died. Barely inconvenienced the olive green tide swept on. Except on the right. There he had a pair of squads, a pair of mmgs and his 9-2 leader. You know how this goes, when did a 9-2 ever have an affect on a game? He stuck his head up, got a sniper bullet in it and his two squads broke for losing their leader. That relieved a little pressure on my right.
Which was good because pressure was coming in abundance in my centre. Adam's plan was almost Soviet in its simplicity. A mass of firepower first then a charge towards my position. Yes, defensive fire would take down a squad or two but the survivors would plunge into close combat, slaughter my underarmed troops and move on. This is a great tactic if you have the troops to spare and it seemed that Adam did. Meanwhile on my left his flankers, having chased off the (now broken, conscript) defenders pushed forward to threaten my left hand position from two sides. I had a half squad with an mmg in a building forward and another hs with the schreck in a foxhole directly behind. The plan was that when the building fell as it inevitably would then I could blast the victorious attackers out of it with the schreck. Believe it or not this actually worked, briefly.
In the right centre Adam's troops poured into the woods pushing towards the large building that was the centre of my defenses there. He still had enough firepower left over to break my forward mmg team while I was on the horns of a deeply unpleasant dilemma. If I fired at Adam as he moved I dropped concealment thus opening myself up for massive vengeance. If I didn't fire then Adam simply walked up to me and killed me at pointblank range or in close combat. I tried both methods throughout the game to determine which worked better. Neither.
With my right flank apparently ignored I took the opportunity to scuttle the squad I had there forward to keep DM on his machine gun squads. This one squad wound up conducting its own personal flanking manoeuvre deep in Adam's rear. Unfortunately deep in Adam's front he was grinding remorselessly forward. His left flankers swung inward (except for a squad which made the mistake of crossing the road and was crushed by my hmg) and started to menace my left hand positions. Far to the rear I started pulling troops from unthreatened areas to take up positions in the village. This was pretty much the only tactical decision I made once the game started and it turned out to be important.
Now in position Adam let rip, recklessly expending squads he threw his troops forward. I fired, broke some, pinned others but yet others survived to plunge into close combat. I think I've mentioned before that close combat is not my friend. So it proved again, I didn't win a single one but I survived longer than I had any right to and tied up some of Adam's units that he needed to keep the attack moving.
Plans of a fall back defence largely went by the board. Adam surrounded my guys and beat them up. The only troops who "fell back" were those that had broken. Still Adam's casualties were mounting, time was running out and I still had my rearguard largely untouched.
Eventually the close combats were resolved in Adam's favour and he pushed forward again, now heading towards the final buildings he needed for victory. Gathering his forces he threw them towards their new targets while my now depleted troops whimpered in fear. I had pulled in all the troops I could, there was nothing else left. Either my guys would stand firm or Adam would blast through them.
The final two turns were a blizzard of fire as Adam's troops stormed forward, bocage, walls and orchards cut down the amount of open ground he had to cross but my troops fired until their barrels were red hot. The American tide poured forward and finally broke, just short of the buildings he needed. Somehow I had clung on by my eyelids for a win.
From the report above it sounds like I was heading for defeat. The simple truth is I thought I was. Adam's pressure was relentless and there wasn't a moment in the game when I didn't think I was a hair's breadth from disaster. It wasn't until the final turn or two when I looked at the situation and saw what Adam saw, that he had one final shot and if it failed he was done. This was a grinding high pressure game and at the end I had a little difficulty believing I had won.
I think I had the better of any luck going with the dice (sniping the 9-2 virtually at the start was a gift) and even though I didn't win any CCs I clung on for longer than I had a right to. That plus my hmg which dominated the road Adam needed to cross to reach the last buildings. Literally nothing crossed that road and lived. Thanks to Adam for the game who put up with my whining about close combat (I can't help it, CC hates me) and was more gracious in defeat than I probably would have been.
"
Which means that the colonel of a US infantry regiment was entitled to feel a little aggrieved when his attack orders went something like this;
"Take your boys in and dig out the Germans!"
"No problem sir, I assume we have tanks?"
"Er, no the tanks are all busy doing other things at the moment."
"Oh, well I presume our air support will make up for that. The Germans hate our support."
"Actually General Patton's having a bit of an airshow so no can do I'm afraid."
"Now I'm starting to hate our air support. Dare I ask about the artillery?"
"They've got the day off, apparently it's St Barbara's birthday."
"So what do I have?"
"Twenty squads of infantry and a "can do" attitude."
Over on the German side of the lines the conversation went a slightly different course.
"Of course we don't have any tanks, when was the last time you saw a tank? Air support? Do you really want that fat, drug addicted prick dropping ordinance near you? Artillery? For god's sake man, don't you know its St Barbara's birthday? You do have a heavy machine gun but headquarters wants it back at the end of the scenario so try not to get it dirty. Have a great war, I'm off to start my memoirs blaming everything on Hitler."
Life is tough at the sharp end. That's why its called the sharp end and not the soft and cuddly end. Life's pretty good at the soft and cuddly end but before we get there Adam Lunney and I sat down to play BFP 20, Bypassed Lehr. This would pit Adam commanding the aforementioned twenty odd squads of Americans (led by a mighty 9-2) with a collection of medium machine guns and bazookas against yours truly. My Germans consisted of five elite squads and ten squads of second liners making up the numbers. I had a heavy machine gun, a pair of mediums and a panzershreck. Adam was attacking and had to drive my troops out of the buildings on board six (the bottom one), if I could hang on to four of them I would win.
Thanks to buildings, woods and bocage lines of sight were problematic which meant our troops would soon be up close and personal which given the firepower disparity wasn't good news for me. I decided that the buildings far in the right rear would be my final defense line. I set up the hmg to fire down the only convenient road which neatly sliced through the battlefield and a few throwaway squads on the flanks. Up front a mix of dummies and the occasional real squad would hopefully slow him down. The buildings in the centre would be my main line of defence and I set up a force on the left and right to hold them. The plan was to slow Adam down and slowly retreat hopefully presenting a solid defence at the end. As it was there was more dying than retreating but still.
 |
| Set up, Adam has decided to go hard in the centre with a flanking force on the (my) left |
 |
| His 9-2 is dead but his flankers are pushing forward |
Which was good because pressure was coming in abundance in my centre. Adam's plan was almost Soviet in its simplicity. A mass of firepower first then a charge towards my position. Yes, defensive fire would take down a squad or two but the survivors would plunge into close combat, slaughter my underarmed troops and move on. This is a great tactic if you have the troops to spare and it seemed that Adam did. Meanwhile on my left his flankers, having chased off the (now broken, conscript) defenders pushed forward to threaten my left hand position from two sides. I had a half squad with an mmg in a building forward and another hs with the schreck in a foxhole directly behind. The plan was that when the building fell as it inevitably would then I could blast the victorious attackers out of it with the schreck. Believe it or not this actually worked, briefly.
In the right centre Adam's troops poured into the woods pushing towards the large building that was the centre of my defenses there. He still had enough firepower left over to break my forward mmg team while I was on the horns of a deeply unpleasant dilemma. If I fired at Adam as he moved I dropped concealment thus opening myself up for massive vengeance. If I didn't fire then Adam simply walked up to me and killed me at pointblank range or in close combat. I tried both methods throughout the game to determine which worked better. Neither.
With my right flank apparently ignored I took the opportunity to scuttle the squad I had there forward to keep DM on his machine gun squads. This one squad wound up conducting its own personal flanking manoeuvre deep in Adam's rear. Unfortunately deep in Adam's front he was grinding remorselessly forward. His left flankers swung inward (except for a squad which made the mistake of crossing the road and was crushed by my hmg) and started to menace my left hand positions. Far to the rear I started pulling troops from unthreatened areas to take up positions in the village. This was pretty much the only tactical decision I made once the game started and it turned out to be important.
 |
| On the right my one squad flankers are keeping his broken guys honest. The AR counters are doing service as snipers btw) |
Plans of a fall back defence largely went by the board. Adam surrounded my guys and beat them up. The only troops who "fell back" were those that had broken. Still Adam's casualties were mounting, time was running out and I still had my rearguard largely untouched.
 |
| Broken American squads litter the approaches but the survivors are in CC with my hapless defenders |
 |
| Readying for the final charge |
From the report above it sounds like I was heading for defeat. The simple truth is I thought I was. Adam's pressure was relentless and there wasn't a moment in the game when I didn't think I was a hair's breadth from disaster. It wasn't until the final turn or two when I looked at the situation and saw what Adam saw, that he had one final shot and if it failed he was done. This was a grinding high pressure game and at the end I had a little difficulty believing I had won.
 |
| Endgame, not much of anybody left |
I think I had the better of any luck going with the dice (sniping the 9-2 virtually at the start was a gift) and even though I didn't win any CCs I clung on for longer than I had a right to. That plus my hmg which dominated the road Adam needed to cross to reach the last buildings. Literally nothing crossed that road and lived. Thanks to Adam for the game who put up with my whining about close combat (I can't help it, CC hates me) and was more gracious in defeat than I probably would have been.
"
Wednesday, August 2, 2017
The One Day of the Year EG Style
The crunch of ill polished boots on the sewage covered streets, thin cheers from the public to cover their attempts to hustle those of their children that could even remotely be considered to be sexually active indoors, well fed generals (approximately one for every two hundred soldiers) standing on podiums their medals glittering in the sun and Zimbabwean military advisors looking on approvingly.
With a picture such as the one painted above... hang on! Did I say Zimbabwean military advisors? Exactly how screwed up and fundamentally worthless does your army have to be before getting military advisors from Zimbabwe seems like a good idea? Step forward Equatorial Guinea. It's fair to say that the greatest achievement of their army is to employ various relatives and fellow tribesmen of the president who might otherwise have to work for a living.
But none of that matters today. Today such of the clapped out Soviet military equipment as can be persuaded to work will be adorned with flowers. Today the somewhat odd collection of grey painted patrol boats rotting in the harbour will be covered in bunting or at least coloured rags. Today such of the air force as the foreign employees who actually maintain and operate them can get into the air (or at least out onto the runway) will be a focal point for celebrations. For today, August 3 is Armed Forces Day in Equatorial Guinea.
A day when the population of EG (as its fondly known by absolutely no one) can give thanks to their scruffy defenders and hopefully the pirates menacing the oil rigs which are the country's sole source of revenue will take the day off.
Possibly the most positive thing the army of EG has ever done is provide its current president. Then general Teodoro Obiang overthrew his uncle in 1979 and has ruled with corrupt brutality ever since. Nevertheless it does appear both to external and internal observers that he is a distinct improvement on his uncle so score one for the military. Apart from this the army's only claim to fame is some disturbing sexual abuse allegations against its servicemen while serving on a UN peace keeping mission.
No doubt there will be events, opportunities for the public of EG to meet their military on a non armed extortion basis and possibly even a ball on the navy's flagship a Ukrainian designed, Bulgarian built, Equatorial Guinean modified thing called a landing frigate whatever the hell that is. No doubt the president himself will make a nice speech lauding the achievements of the armed forces (without needing to go into specifics) and thanking for them for their contributions to EG society. And I'm pretty sure nobody will point out that the soldiers who make up the Presidential Guard are actually mercenaries from Morocco.
With a picture such as the one painted above... hang on! Did I say Zimbabwean military advisors? Exactly how screwed up and fundamentally worthless does your army have to be before getting military advisors from Zimbabwe seems like a good idea? Step forward Equatorial Guinea. It's fair to say that the greatest achievement of their army is to employ various relatives and fellow tribesmen of the president who might otherwise have to work for a living.
But none of that matters today. Today such of the clapped out Soviet military equipment as can be persuaded to work will be adorned with flowers. Today the somewhat odd collection of grey painted patrol boats rotting in the harbour will be covered in bunting or at least coloured rags. Today such of the air force as the foreign employees who actually maintain and operate them can get into the air (or at least out onto the runway) will be a focal point for celebrations. For today, August 3 is Armed Forces Day in Equatorial Guinea.
A day when the population of EG (as its fondly known by absolutely no one) can give thanks to their scruffy defenders and hopefully the pirates menacing the oil rigs which are the country's sole source of revenue will take the day off.
Possibly the most positive thing the army of EG has ever done is provide its current president. Then general Teodoro Obiang overthrew his uncle in 1979 and has ruled with corrupt brutality ever since. Nevertheless it does appear both to external and internal observers that he is a distinct improvement on his uncle so score one for the military. Apart from this the army's only claim to fame is some disturbing sexual abuse allegations against its servicemen while serving on a UN peace keeping mission.
No doubt there will be events, opportunities for the public of EG to meet their military on a non armed extortion basis and possibly even a ball on the navy's flagship a Ukrainian designed, Bulgarian built, Equatorial Guinean modified thing called a landing frigate whatever the hell that is. No doubt the president himself will make a nice speech lauding the achievements of the armed forces (without needing to go into specifics) and thanking for them for their contributions to EG society. And I'm pretty sure nobody will point out that the soldiers who make up the Presidential Guard are actually mercenaries from Morocco.
Tuesday, August 1, 2017
Killing The Elderly or Simply Tiresome
Down in our neighbouring state of Victoria they are apparently considering permitting euthanasia by 2019. By which time anyone who wants it now will probably already be safely dead.
It has to be admitted that there are a number of advantages to euthanasia. For a left leaning government (such as the one in Victoria) the knowledge that the elderly tend to be more conservative might help them feel a little better about a certain judicious culling of the electoral roll. For conservatives one can simply point to the reduction in welfare dollars that need to be spent keeping the elderly alive if we stop actually doing that. For the nearest and dearest of those currently suffering through their final months of existence there will be the relief of knowing that a large proportion of the family's wealth has finally been removed from the hands of those who made it. That's even before we get to the individual who is actually the subject of the process. And by "process" I mean killing.
I've got to admit that I don't see suicide as a particular tragedy (except, of course, for those directly affected). If somebody wants to leave I don't necessarily see that we should force them to stay. But euthanasia isn't suicide, it is killing someone. Certainly they may desire this outcome, certainly it may be a relief from an existence made unbearable by pain, misery or sheer boredom. But it's still killing. I'm not a die hard opponent of killing people either, under certain specific circumstances. I just think we need to be awfully careful about how we go about it and about how we view it both individually and as a society.
It's very easy to get used to something. If something is easy and peaceful and condoned by law it soon becomes the norm rather than the exception. The biggest problem I have with euthanasia is that I don't think people should be allowed to get used to killing other people. Normally if you lose your temper, or make a mistake or commit an error of judgement then you can apologise and make amends. That doesn't really work if you've killed someone. At least not in any practical way.
To be fair the committee in Victoria seems to have been alive (sorry about the pun) to this and has put in what seem to me to be some pretty good safeguards. They will have to be better than good. Because the very first thing that will happen is that those safeguards will be tested and the established boundaries will be pushed and if any weakness is shown then the precedent will become the new normal and will be tested and pushed in its turn.
For what it's worth (nothing actually) here is what I would deem the absolute minimum before permitting a killing, sorry; assisted suicide.
Two more things; Get rid of the term "euthanasia". Call it what it is; killing. Make sure everyone involved knows that what is happening is a killing. Sugar coating can come later when we're comforting the bereaved.
And now the final thing. Medical practitioners who are advocates of euthanasia should not be allowed within a million miles of these decisions. If there is one thing I don't trust it's a doctor who wants to kill his patients.
It has to be admitted that there are a number of advantages to euthanasia. For a left leaning government (such as the one in Victoria) the knowledge that the elderly tend to be more conservative might help them feel a little better about a certain judicious culling of the electoral roll. For conservatives one can simply point to the reduction in welfare dollars that need to be spent keeping the elderly alive if we stop actually doing that. For the nearest and dearest of those currently suffering through their final months of existence there will be the relief of knowing that a large proportion of the family's wealth has finally been removed from the hands of those who made it. That's even before we get to the individual who is actually the subject of the process. And by "process" I mean killing.
I've got to admit that I don't see suicide as a particular tragedy (except, of course, for those directly affected). If somebody wants to leave I don't necessarily see that we should force them to stay. But euthanasia isn't suicide, it is killing someone. Certainly they may desire this outcome, certainly it may be a relief from an existence made unbearable by pain, misery or sheer boredom. But it's still killing. I'm not a die hard opponent of killing people either, under certain specific circumstances. I just think we need to be awfully careful about how we go about it and about how we view it both individually and as a society.
It's very easy to get used to something. If something is easy and peaceful and condoned by law it soon becomes the norm rather than the exception. The biggest problem I have with euthanasia is that I don't think people should be allowed to get used to killing other people. Normally if you lose your temper, or make a mistake or commit an error of judgement then you can apologise and make amends. That doesn't really work if you've killed someone. At least not in any practical way.
To be fair the committee in Victoria seems to have been alive (sorry about the pun) to this and has put in what seem to me to be some pretty good safeguards. They will have to be better than good. Because the very first thing that will happen is that those safeguards will be tested and the established boundaries will be pushed and if any weakness is shown then the precedent will become the new normal and will be tested and pushed in its turn.
For what it's worth (nothing actually) here is what I would deem the absolute minimum before permitting a killing, sorry; assisted suicide.
- An explicit request from the patient
- Stringent medical review of the patient's circumstances including the offering of all possible alternatives
- psychological evaluation of the patient to confirm they are of sound mind (whatever that means)
- The option for the patient to change their mind for any reason or none without question or judgement right up until the moment of death
- Consultation (chaperoned) with the immediate family of the patient
- Confirmation of the desire from the patient
- The actual killing to be done by the patient themselves
- Under no circumstances will a patient incapable (for whatever reason) of making their wishes known be killed. No previous statements of intent however legally correct will be considered acceptable
Two more things; Get rid of the term "euthanasia". Call it what it is; killing. Make sure everyone involved knows that what is happening is a killing. Sugar coating can come later when we're comforting the bereaved.
And now the final thing. Medical practitioners who are advocates of euthanasia should not be allowed within a million miles of these decisions. If there is one thing I don't trust it's a doctor who wants to kill his patients.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)