Pythagorean philosophy and maintaining a positive mental attitude

Dear Diary,

That... place does not bear thinking about. Yesterday the family of the thugs from Eastern Europe swung by. They are... precisely as I had expected (think Borat). The simpleton from the village is also growing increasingly weary. He has switched from doing a (bad) Jamaican yardy accent to a poor imitation of a Chinaman now (many of our colleagues are half-Malaysian, therefore this is in incredibly poor taste). He also pretends to be funny by yelling at the other staff to complete tasks in impossibly small amounts of time. It should be remembered that this person is the slowest at work, but expects people to do tasks in a far shorter time frame than he himself is capable of doing. Last night I caught him - again - sweeping up using only one hand. I confess, I detest this person, but say nothing except only kind words - for it is best to try and be on amicable terms with everyone.

I was reading one of my absolute favourite books yesterday. It really is superb. Heretical? Yes. Of course. But curious nontheless. It is one of the titles from the Prometheus Trust (an outstanding publisher). Thomas Taylor's translations of: Iamblichus, On the Mysteries, Life of Pythagoras and many fragments and testimonia. I have only really looked at On the Mysteries and The Life of Pythagoras before. In doing so, it becomes really quite obvious that this is only one interpretation of Iamblichus' works (when compared to the original ancient Greek). Even so, it is eminently readable. Yesterday, however, I decided to read some of the fragments and testimonia, and there is some really quite excellent advice given on how to live an upstanding and virtuous life. It is a crying shame that none of my colleagues at that... place have not read this work, or works like this, or indeed read any books whatsoever. Anyway: this is the Dark Age. Therefore one cannot expect literature to be among the habits of really quite ordinary and indeed most boring people (that is, my 'noble' and 'learned' colleagues and 'peers' at that... place - as I refer to them satirically to the customers over the telephone).

In his preliminary remarks to his translation of the testimonia, the late (great) Thomas Taylor records an excellent anecdote found in the Suda - a 10th century Byzantine text which is actually crucial to classical studies. This particular anecdote is not actually very pleasant and records a time when there was little religious toleration (and there should be in more enlightened societies).

A commentator on the Golden Verses of Pythagoras, Hierocles, offended the 'prevailers' (probably religious fanatics, fundamentalists). As he was being scourged by in front of a kangeroo 'court' for his 'transgressions' (i.e. being interested in Pythagorean philosophy - hardly a crime in this day and age), Hierocles cupped some of the blood from his whipped back in the small of his hand and flung it at the judge, sprinkling him. Hierocles then said:

Κύκλωψ, τῆ, πίε οἶνον, ἐπεὶ φάγες ἀνδρόμεα κρέα

Cyclops, since human flesh is your delight, now drink this wine. (Homer, Odyssey 9.347 trans. Taylor, 2006 [1822], p.332)

Beyond such anecdotes, there is much wisdom to be found in this book. Here are just a few examples, some of my absolute favourite little aphorisms from the Pythagorean Ethical Sentences preserved by the voluminous (but very important) author Stobaeus (quoted in [trans.] Taylor, 2006 [1822], pp.366-370).

"Be persuaded that things of a laborious nature contribute more than pleasures to virtue."

"It is difficult to walk at one and the same time in many paths of life."

"Neither will the horse be judged to be generous, that is sumptuously adorned, but the horse whose nature is illustrious; nor is the man worthy who possess great wealth, be he whose soul is generous."

"It is better to live lying on the grass, confiding in divinity and yourself, than to lie on a golden bed with perturbation."

"Pythagoras [said that] it is impossible that he can be free who is a slave to his passions."

"Pythagoras said, that it was either requisite to be silent, or to say something better than silence."

Pythagoras being asked, how a lover of wine might be cured of intoxication, answered, if he frequently surveys what his actions were when he was intoxicated."

"Pythagoras being asked, how a man ought to conduct himself towards his country, when it had acted iniquitously with respect to him, replied, as to a mother."

"Travelling teaches a man frugality, and the way in which he may be sufficient to himself. For bread made of milk and flour, and a bed of grass, are the sweetest remedies of hunger and labour."

(This last one is especially relevent to these taxing times...)

"It is the province of a wise man to bear poverty with equinamity."

The weekend (or rather, the absence of)

Dear Diary,

Their impatience reached new heights yesterday at that... place. One driver, a conscientious young man, well educated, softly spoken, from good family, phoned the store to tell them that there was a fire in the middle of the road. That was all the information I received. As it turns out, from the scraps of gossip which fly around, there had - seemingly - been a road accident or collision of some sort, perhaps a biker had come off at speed. I am unsure if anyone was hurt (badly) or not. Possibly the same accident caused the roads intersecting three main villages to stop.

The older thug was astounded that this driver even bothered to call, more so that the young man did as the Fire Brigade had told him: to stay put until they arrive. This orc, this thug, this impatient Eastern European born of the meanest stock, was only concerned with getting deliveries made on time. Not humanity. Not safety. Not well-being or concern for life. Now, had this happened in the mud-splattered village where this plump Pol Pot had grown up in, surely the thug may have been concerned if everyone was alright (after all, these are the people he grew up with, his friends and family), but he isn't in the backwoods and swamps of Eastern Europe any more. He's in Britain, therefore he doesn't care about the people here (unlike native born Englishmen).

I distinctly recall the time I was ordered to stand still at my post when a fire had started. I remember thinking: is this a reasonable order? Or, is this like Grenfell?

I also recall the time when another member of staff had a heart condition, and was working so hard that he began to get heart trouble. The thug barked that he must continuing working. Is this reasonable? What of compassion? What if the man had suffered a heart attack and died?

Since then that same person has left. He told me once that in another store nearby where he was working, a fire had broken out when a piece of machinery had burst into flames. The bosses, as soon as they heard what happened had only one question: when can you start making money again? They did not ask, "Is everybody okay?" This is the way these people operate. They are dictators, unconcerned with human life (except their own).

Is it reasonable that a Latin scholar that holds a master's degree, should have to put up with the orders of these foreign little brutes? Of course not. But this isn't Elizabethan England: it's Dark Age Britain. Here, ignorance is strength. Here, there is no reason. Here, there is only slavery.

Hades and beyond (a new possibility, part time, maybe full time) potentially a good omen

Dear Diary,

Let's not faff about. It's like having been kidnapped by orcs, and goblins, and hobgoblins. That's what it's like, at that... place - the Infernal Regions. D'ya ever see that Lord of the Rings movie, with the Uruk-hai? (I used to play Middle Earth RP btw, and some Role Master). That's what it's like in Hades. There is the oompa loompa, today, a goblin slave girl of Bligh, the orc, her master (he is from Mordor, she is from the East). Today she barks, 'You do not put the gluten free stickers there because of residue. I will have to clean it up.' (quietly forgetting, of course, that it is my duty to clean the cut table, because that is my post at work). I clean it as best I can, cleaning as I go. Anyway.

Bligh was there, as usual, barking like an orc. He's like Joe Pesci from Goodfellas, only half Mickey Rourke in that movie with his oompa loompa Jessica Alba in Sin City.

It's as though heaven's usual order is inverted. Reason. Knowledge. Wisdom. These things are for the misguided. Here, ignorance is strength.

As the lowliest, most meanest, basest slave that ever set foot on this ancient, hallowed and most redoubt of all islands in Neptune's fair maine. It is true, that there has never been so baser slave than me. Nay, not since Julius Caesar (45 B.C.E.) or Aulus Plautius (47 C.E.) dared to set foot on this great island, this demi-paradise, this other heaven, remote, populated by giants, hyperboreans, beyond the north (should Diododorus Siculus be belived) was there any such man so lowly as I, the basest most meanest creature that ever graced these once proud shores.

In any case, work matters ('shop talk') aside, I have been chipping away at little bits of Latin translation. Some Narses the Fourth here (12 century), a little Seneca there, even revisiting Suetonius. It's business as usual. Remaining at peace, and endeavouring to do the very best one can.

The first course ends, new beginnings, old trends

Dear Diary,

It is with some regret that I have arbitrarily decided to jack in the law course (‘module’ as they call it at my alma mater). I have never, ever deferred a single course in my entire 13 years’ history of studying. Not one. However, there is something which must be borne in mind: reason. It is unreasonable for me to study simply for studying’s sake. I admit, I am addicted to studying. I could have a much worse addiction, so on the scale of things, having an addiction to studying is not that bad (comparative degree), but it is still unreasonable, and a passion (the regular noun passio in Latin principally means ‘suffering’). I ought to be ruled by reason, not passion.

I have learnt a little, and one might say just enough, from this module, to be able to write prosaic fiction set in the early 20th century, and I am considering writing a dystopian novel set in the future, based around the way the law system in this (formerly) great nation is headed. I thought perhaps that acquiring a university education (several degrees, I might add…) might actually lead somewhere. But this is not the heyday of the Medici in Florence during the 15th-16th centuries, nor is it Elizabethan England: it’s Dark Age Britain. Naturally, the reason behind my decision to quit the course is pecuniary concerns. I earn a measly 850 bucks a month, though I work six days a week. So couple that with rent and transport (not to mention looking after little Ronulus and indeed thinking about what I should get my daughter for Christmas) I simply can’t afford to shell out 300 bucks a month just to feed an addiction to studying.

In Adam Smith’s Wealth of Nations (which is a great book, by the way), it is stated that a reasonable amount for a person to live on is to have two-thirds of their income as disposable. I cannot subsist on less than 50 bucks a month. I just can’t. It’s simply too much.

Never having deferred a module before, I don’t know what to expect (other than being booted off the course). There may even be some clause in my loan contract making me still liable to pay the fee. Fortunately, the very subject of my course was law, so this works to my advantage. I will make a strong case (should a trial arise against me) whereby I can use what I have learnt to my benefit. Is £1,614 plus interest good value for a book worth only £30? That’s just for starters, without even looking at statutes and case law.

I will miss the university’s databases (of course), but fortunately, I have a magnificent little library, with very many rare books. Who needs the university’s databases when you have a considerably ample book collection? I lived in Cambridge, and bought absolutely every single classics book I could find (and afford), and ordered many more than that. The law, although it’s a nice little hobby and everything, is not my academic specialism. I am a classicist at heart, and that is an area of learning I have expert knowledge in. In fact, my tutor said that she would find it difficult to study any other branch of learning. I almost typed in the tutorial ‘You would make a great classicist’ but deleted it. She has learnt her Latin, so would (probably) enjoy learning ancient Greek.

Leaving the law course will mean that I have more time to enjoy studying ancient Greek. Once I have mastered that language (which will take me a few years), I can then move on to my next ancient language. I have books on how to learn Arabic (not classical Arabic - which comes after learning modern Arabic), books on how to learn to read Egyptian hieroglyphs, and even a lexicon of ancient Hebrew. I have not decided which I will learn next, after ancient Greek, but I am thinking that Aramaic (Hebrew) might be the best option. Thereby I can learn Arabic with relative ease. Egyptian hieroglyphs are… something of an acquired taste. Biblical Hebrew is more important to me, as a Christian. Were I a Muslim or a ‘pagan’ I would most certainly study either of those other two (excellent) languages. It is said that the Al’Quran is the most poetic of the Abrahamic religious texts. It is also said that Egyptian is a most magical language.

The next assignment (should you choose to accept it, as they say) is all about reflection. I reflect a lot on what I have learnt, always. Every single time I discover something I could have done better or find a primary source I may have missed, I make a note of it on the Cloud. I reflect naturally, so no formal academic reflection is necessary. I’ve come too far to change tack now. I have expert knowledge in one particular field (the subject of my master’s degree dissertation was δαίμονες id est ‘spirits’). There would be little to be gained by wasting my time on a subject which - while laudable - is actually for poor people. Criminal law is a subject for people that wish only to be extremely poor. Did you know that a newly made criminal barrister earns less than someone that cleans toilets for living? (In Dark Age Britain, at least. One cannot speak of civilised countries, where studying criminal law actually means something). So, cui bono? The government, is who. It’s a guinea pig project, this current module (first cohort). Even the tutors can’t read the students’ responses. What do you imagine the second part of the current assignment is? The rubric begins with ‘Imagine you are working for the UK government, under a Member of Parliament…’ Now tell me this is not a pet project for the government. I am not about to be just another guinea pig in a thankless and servile society, which, on the one hand pretends to be somehow ‘honourable’ and ‘civilised’, when, in actual fact, the machinery of the executive is actually engaged - for the most part - in two areas of business (both are shady). One: offshore tax havens for the super rich, and two: arms deals. All the while, the rest of us are as poor as church mice. Did you know that in France (a most excellent and indeed civilised country), commoners such as myself earn 25% more than in Britain? And that middle class earners earn 20% more than in Britain? Moreover, if you held a master’s degree in classical Latin in France, you can be damn sure, that that actually means something (unlike here, now, in Dark Age Britain).

Time to think, gettin' it done, irons in the fire (it'll work out fine)

Dear Diary,

I’ve had little time to myself recently. I’ve been studying a lot, so much that I get burnt out and have to lie down for a while, then up and at ‘em as soon as I awake. I remember once that there was some psychological phenomenon which is the reason that my alma mater structures lectures within a particular time-frame. I don’t really understand it (because I’m not a psychology major) but from what I have heard, the upshot is that study sessions are structured in 40-45 segments, with a 15 minute break in between the two. I remember on the Magister Artium another student had problems focusing, getting stressed out with the sheer workload of writing his dissertation, so he adopted this framework, and instead of pushing, and pushing, and pushing, until you burn yourself out, he took breaks every 40-45 minutes or so, and it meant he actually got more work done (strangely).

Up until recently, I have taken this same approach to study as I take to work (keep pushing, keep pushing, no breaks, except maybe one five minute break). This is not doable. It is better, far better, to approach tasks with a clear mind, well rested, focused, so you can apply yourself fully to the job at hand without feeling constantly fatigued and worn out.

Hades is still a pain in the backside, but I’m handling it, just about. Taking orders from gossiping, uncouth teenagers (subductisupercilicarptores) is wearing pretty thin. Today, however, some translation company finally got back to me, after a month. They want me to work freelance (self-employed) which I am not actually that okay with. Sure, if I had my own company, or worked as a barrister, that would be fine, but not (necessarily) for some little translation company. There’s no job security, and very few workers’ rights, as Uber found out (the hard way…) with their employees. Still, I might take it, maybe. It seems pretty rich, this company taking a month to get back to me, and then expecting me to complete a number of really quite taxing tests within the space of an hour or so, and then maybe move on to tests which have to do with translation. To me, if I hire another musician, the music comes first, their ability to play well. Likewise, if I am doing translation work, the translation comes first, and all other abilities are secondary to this. That’s a little difficult for this firm to understand (and Britain in general). To be a musician, one has to be able to not only play a musical instrument, but play it well. To be a translator, one has to not only be able to translate, but translate well. Call me old fashioned, but this is the way I do things. I feel I will do quite well with my own firm.

The law course is still looming, and I made some progress with that today. I have a few irons in the fire. My latest little one (inspired by a friend of mine that I had a video call with late last night) is getting back to my roots. The reasons I went to university in the first place (and this is being honest), are three: (1) to prove to the (late, great) savant Didier Deman that the British won the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. (2) Failing that, to become a lecturer in ancient history (inspired by my - gorgeous - ex-girlfriend Fanny, that said, “You would make a great history teacher.”). (3) When asked at my first lecture why I was there, I answered honestly: to acquire the knowledge I need to make games. I actually have had to ween myself off playing games (particularly Empire: TW) and instead dedicate myself to studying. However, all work and no play makes Jack a dull boy, and the gaming industry makes the classical studies business look like David compared to Goliath. Very many more people are interested in playing frivolous games than are interested in seriously studying. So, I have begun designing a game which is magical in nature. It draws from a variety of different other past experiences gaming, and combines my knowledge of hermetic philosophy, history, mythology, magic, folk-lore and much else besides. The only thing I’m missing is artwork. I put an advertisement on some artists’ website today and received a response from a reasonable artist (in terms of both rates and ability). At this particular juncture in history, AI art is fantastic, but I actually prefer people to machines.

Anyway, that’s just little games, and although - in truth - will probably generate a lot more revenue in the business, it is not where my heart is: my heart is - and always will be - in Latin literature, everything from the Biblia Sacra Vulgata to the writings of the great Latin masters: Virgil, Ovid, Propertius, Tibullus, Juvenal, Plautus, Martial, Cicero, Terence, Ammianus Marcellinus, Macrobius, Manilius, and many many more (this is not even mentioning many of the great medieval Latin authors). Libelli Classics is nearly at the point of lift off, and although it has been at this ‘future participle’ point (id est ‘on the point of being, very nearly about to happen’) for a long while now, in two weeks I will have the source code I need to publish my first book (courtesy of that colleague at work). As an aside, I also write a lot of poetry, and I am reading the phenomenal Milton at the moment. There is such a nice passage in his Paradise Lost which I will share with you now.

…so lovely fair,
that what seemed fair in all the world, seemed now
mean, or in her summed up, in her contained
and in her looks; which from that time infused
sweetness into my heart, unfelt before,
and into all things from her air inspired
the spirit of love and amorous delight.
She disappeared, and left me dark; I waked
to find her, or for ever to deplore
her loss, and other pleasures all abjure:
when out of hope, behold her, not far off,
such as I saw her in my dream, adorned
with what all Earth or Heaven could bestow
to make her amiable: On she came,
led by her heavenly Maker, though unseen,
and guided by his voice; nor uninformed
of nuptial sanctity, and marriage rites:
Grace was in all her steps, Heaven in her eye,
in every gesture dignity and love.
I, overjoyed, could not forbear aloud.
This turn hath made amends; thou hast fulfilled
thy words, Creator bounteous and benign,
giver of all things fair! but fairest this
of all thy gifts! nor enviest. I now see
bone of my bone, flesh of my flesh, myself
before me: Woman is her name; of Man
extracted: for this cause he shall forego
father and mother, and to his wife adhere;
and they shall be one flesh, one heart, one soul.
She heard me thus; and though divinely brought,
yet innocence, and virgin modesty,
her virtue, and the conscience of her worth,
that would be wooed, and not unsought be won,
not obvious, not obtrusive, but, retired,
the more desirable; or, to say all,
Nature herself, though pure of sinful thought…

John Milton, Paradise Lost (Book 8, lines 471-506).

Sortition - a threat to democracy?

Dear Diary,

While studying this law course at university, we were presented with a TED lecture which argues for sortition. This is essentially a random selection process for a nation's ruler(s). When I was quite young, and certainly uneducated, I gravitated towards this same idea, calling it a 'randomocracy'. While seemingly appealing on the face of it, once one delves further into this idea, it is actually a very dangerous proposition. Let us examine my own household.

Let us suppose that either of my housemates were to be randomly selected as the nation's leader. In the first case: Euclio. We played some silly board game in which we were supposed to run a country together. Euclio, instead of helping the team as best he could (as everyone else did), did all he could to consolidate his own personal power base, accrue as much money as he could, and scuppered any bills passed by the others, simply to cast the cat among the pigeons. Imagine if Euclio were chosen at random to be Britain's Prime Minister. Wars would be started on a whim. There would be much more corruption. Euclio would act in the same way, leaving the nation to hang, while he creamed off as much money as possible. The nation would very soon be paralysed, starving, without electricity and most likely, annexed by a foreign power. So we can rule out Euclio as being Britain's Prime Minister.

What about the other? I suppose that this gentleman's criminal record may very well invalidate him from becoming Prime Minister. Yet even if criminals were permitted, how much more corruption would be rife if crooks were permitted to run the nation?

Moreover, there is no such thing as 'random' when it comes to computers (and in this day and age, the 'random' selection would probably be done via computers). Computers generate pseudo-random numbers, kind of like a wheel with numbers on, that turns a number of notches. As evidence of this, a friend of mine (a very gifted programmer) once generated a random height map for a game he was writing. On the first generation of it, the hills, when looked at from above, generated a face with a smile. This is evidence that there is no such thing as 'random' when it comes to computers.

The lecturer cited the κληρωτήριον (incorrectly mentioning it in the plural, therefore betraying the speaker's lack of knowledge when it comes to Latin and ancient Greek). It is fanciful to imagine that back in the 5th century B.C.E. or even the heyday of Rome, that things were much better than they are now. This is a rose-tinted view of the ancient world, and many people indulge this nonsense. For example, no women or slaves had any say in ancient Athenian 'democracy'. Moreover, there are some (mentioning no names) that believe that the dream-temples of Asclepius should be brought back. Yet reading Aelius Aristides, it is clear that whatever spirit(s) visited him in his dreams, was not a good spirit. The being bade him to jump into a freezing cold river in the middle of winter, then cover himself with mud and walk around the town naked. This is not a good thing, just as returning to Athenian style 'democracy' is not a good thing. Democracy is precious, and for all politicians' faults (which are very many), a good many politicians go into politics to help bring about positive change. It would be cynical to take the view of House of Cards, and have no faith in democracy (even if House of Cards and Yes, Minister have much in common with Britain's political system). Sortition is not an answer. It is a dangerous idea that could potentially throw many nation states into chaos, without law, order and most of all: democracy. The electoral mandate is what gives a party legitimacy. It is not because a ruler has been pulled out of a hat.

In other news, England plays Iran today in the World Cup. Even if this is a nation of money launderers and arms dealers, without honour, I will support England, if only because I was born here.

The law, Britain and slavery

Dear Diary,

When I first signed up for this job I do now (unskilled labour) I discerned quite quickly that the managers on salary earn less - per hour - than those on the shop floor. When I mentioned this to another employer (at a gig our Old Time band had a residency at), the proprietor said that, ‘It’s not the money, it’s the prestige of being a manager’. The same applies to the law in this - God forsaken, formerly mighty and proud - nation. Junior criminal barristers earn less than people that work wiping old folks’ arses or cleaning the gunk out of pans. In what country, 2022, do lawyers earn less than toilet attendants? Dark Age Britain, is what country.

Being a lawyer is a tough job. It requires years of training and study. Lawyers also have a great deal of vicarious trauma to deal with. What kind of a state pays lawyers less than people that do unskilled labour? A broken state, is what.

During the course of my study of the law I have learnt two things. (1) The only country in the Council of Europe which does not abide by the European Convention on Human Rights (1950) is Britain, apart from one: Russia. (2) The only country in the whole European continent which uses the ‘first past the post’ voting system is Britain, apart from one: Belarus. Besides these anti-democratic and anti-humanitarian realities, what do Britain, Russia and Belarus all have in common? They all launder mafia money through the City of London via offshore tax havens, thus draining the economy of its strength and facilitating criminal enterprises. Britain, Russia and Belarus, are all really on the same side: at least in terms of the élites running each country. This is the reality. This is what’s actually going down. If you would like evidence of this very real fact, then I would point you towards the following threads. Firstly, page 21 of the following article:

Foster, S. & Foster, S. (2022) ‘Reforming the Human Rights Act 1998 and the Bill of Rights Bill 2022’, Coventry Law Journal, vol.27 issue 1, pp.1-21. Available at the Coventry Law Journal on-line: https://publications.coventry.ac.uk/index.php/clj/article/view/866 (accessed October 31st, 2022).

Mortimer, J. (2021) ‘“The future is going to be negotiated, not dictated”: Labour figures speak out for PR’, The Electoral Reform Society: https://www.electoral-reform.org.uk/the-future-is-going-to-be-negotiated-not-dictated-labour-figures-speak-out-for-pr/ (accessed November 17th, 2022).

For further evidence it is worth consulting the literature about the Panama Papers and also the work of the investigative journalist Oliver Bullough.

Britain is a nation of slaves. This is the reality. It pretends not to be, and pretends very well, but in actual fact, once the facade is seen through, and the deeds of the élite are exposed for what they are (remember, Britain’s two biggest exports are (1) ‘financial services’ [money laundering], and (2) the arms trade - Britain has been running guns between here and Spain since at least the sixteenth century, or so I learnt at university while studying medieval and modern history) this is what this country thrives on: crime and murder. Anyone that thinks that Britain honours its word, or is for peace, or good will, had better think again.

I’ll give you just one example. I have a friend, a political writer, and he was invited to London to speak with a banker, a speculator on currencies, about doing some work for him. My friend did the work, then mused to a colleague about when he might be paid for doing the work. His colleague replied that, “Oh, that’s how it’s always is with [said banker]. It’s like getting blood out of a stone.” This man has billions, and billions, and billions of pounds, but won’t part with even one… single… penny. Not one. For work which he himself had commissioned. This is how Britain operates. It pretends to do business, but in actual fact, it is a nation of thieves. The fact is, the harder you work, the more you study, the better a person you become (in terms of being considerate, kind hearted and mindful), the worse off you become, so long as you live in Dark Age Britain.

A new direction

Dear Diary,

That... place (Hades, the Infernal Regions, a fiery, hellish place, a place where ignorance, brutes, imps and curmudgeons rule supreme: where the usual order of God's heaven is inverted) does not bear mentioning. As for the law degree: I have a tight deadline and have shed loads of reading to do. I've had it. I'll get it done, of course, but not on Friday night after another attending to the most servile, basest duties.

The guy came through with the source code, which is great news. Only the eBook code is written so far, but it should be only about seventeen days until the assignment is fully complete. Therefore, I have been reading Vasari's Lives of the Artists (only in translation: George Bull's), and researching my new book: Lives of Extraordinary Artists In Our Times. Scarcely a slender fraction of artists I have had the pleasure of meeting have made it into my book. I would have liked to include several dozen more, but these are not well known to me, having only worked with them or met them on one or two occasions. It is a little work of biography, which is a popular genre.

I had decided to keep myself well out of the book, but intend to include a (brief) note about myself and my art, as the last appendix (available only in the print version, as are all its appendices). The British Establishment will go down in history as having no taste, no refinement, no sophistication. They chose cotton when they could have had silk. The UK is not alone in favouring lesser poets. That awful poem by Amanda Gorman (spoken on President Biden's inauguration) was completely lacking in literary merit: all hot air, no real thought was put into it. These are the reasons why this is not Elizabethan England, but instead the literary Dark Age.

In any case, I look forward to exposing the British art scene for what it is: all a facade, lacking in any real depth or substance. For example, the British appear to favour dance, as an art form (as evidenced by the popular TV show Strictly) but in actual fact, dance is deemed the lowest art form, in education. Any art form is reserved exclusively for the rich. (Certainly when I was at school, I had only one free choice of subject: so I chose music, naturally. Now, I hear, there is no choice, and anyone wishing to go on to study music at college has to focus more on editing and the commercial side, instead of, when I studied it: actually learning how to play a musical instrument well). I suppose that's a bit to complicated for the British to understand. It is only those with the means that have the luxury of learning how to master a musical instrument well under the proper guidance. Archaeology is another subject (though technically a science) which is all glitz and glamour on the BBC, but is actually off the syllabus in Further Education and has been since 2016 (along with classical civilisation A-level). Sure, the British pretend to rate art, music, opera, and high literary culture, but the reality is, that in education at least, arts are the lowest of the low. STEM subjects are where it's at. "Facts! Facts! Facts Mr. Gradgrind!"

The War and other musings

Dear Diary,

February 24th, 2022, was something of a landmark date in the history of mankind: the day Russia officially invaded Ukraine (or rather: began conducting a special military operation, depending on your viewpoint). Now, 166 days later, on November 16th, there are reports of two men killed in Poland as a result of a missile landing there, allegedly launched from an S-300 (a Russian made missile system, also used by the Ukrainian military). At first the President of Poland initially blamed Russia. Then, after NATO had words, the chances (allegedly) are that it may have come from a Ukrainian missle launcher.

NATO have had to play a very fine balancing act. On the one hand: how to avoid an escalation of the conflict and avert a third world war, which could only end in mutually assured destruction. On the other hand: how far can Russia (or China, or North Korea) push it before they can expect reprisals, and not just economic.

I used to be a dove, and in my heart of hearts I should still be. Then I grew up. The world isn't some happy free loving place where nothing ever goes wrong, everyone is extremely nice and kind to one another all the time, and everything is free (Rainbowland). Now, even if Rainbowland is a preferable place, an ideal worth striving towards: Snuggle Nook, it is not actually the world we live in. We live on Earth, not in Rainbowland.

As a classicist, I tend to look through the lens of and learn the lessons of, the ancient authors: the old philosophers. Where Isocrates wanted peace, Demosthenes willed war. Yet these were orators, statesmen, Demosthenes was like an Attic Cicero. Notwithstanding the curiously intruiging tractes of Plato, Aristotle and Hermes Trismegistus, most of history, the writings of ancient times, are all about one thing: war. It is not always war. Sometimes treaties are made, hostages exchanged in good faith, peace is made. There are moments of peace in history, such as Sulla pacifying pirates in the Med' (according to Velleius Paterculus). They exist, but they are the exception, not the norm.

Equally, as a curiosity, there are only two proper extant works on the subject of war, which are extant in Latin. Both are (relatively) late. One is by Sextus Julius Frontinus (1st century of the Christian Era), and even that is simply a drawing together of anecdotes about war. His book The Art of War does not survive. The second is a 4th century author Vegetius, and his De Rerum Militari ('On Military Matters'). Even so, in the writings of Livy, Polybius, Tacitus, Plutarch, Josephus and Cassius Dio we get several windows or 'snapshots' of what it was like to be a soldier, back in the day.

There are a couple of other nice writings, beyond ancient Greece and Rome, from the ancient world, notably Sun Tzu's classic little exposé of war. I even quite enjoy Clausewitz. Anyway.

These aren't the days of Homer in the 8th century Before the Christian Era. As I have learnt from my studying public law, there are such considerations as international law and conventions, such as human rights law, war crimes, and atrocities. Frontinus, nor Sun Tzu, nor even Vegetius, had any such things in mind. A friend of mine (not a well read man) spoke to me of Machiavelli recently. If anything, this later author of real-politic(s), had a more enlightened and somewhat more honourable view, not quite so ruthless as our ancient forebears. Machiavelli - if one has not read him - is a stereotype. Yet compared to the old-school war mongers, like Sun Tzu, Frontinus or Vegetius, Machiavelli is pretty tame compared to the ruthless pragmatism shown by the old-school war mongers. Ghengis Khan style: pepper on the gloves, no pulling punches. Anyway, these are just my ramblings for the day.

The law course (a fresh case) essay one

Dear Diary,

I've had to alter course recently, on my tack towards the first law assignment (public law). The case I chose was from Toronto, Ontario, but because it is from extra-jurisdictional territory, a Dominion, not Great Britain (thus not a case directly related to the UK constitution), I cannot choose it. So, I've had to re-examine my pool of little landmarks: important cases, directly relevant to parliamentary sovereignty and Albert Venn Dicey (or rather Professor Mark Walters' A.V. Dicey and the Common Law Constitutional Tradition (Cambridge University Press).

Equally, reading the same text, over and over and over, is extremely helpful. You start to see angles, connections, ways in which you can answer the question in such a way that you cite case law, black-letter law and indeed academic works by legal scholars, and that answers the question directly relevant to its rubric (and marking criteria). There is a way, through the nebulous misty forest of shadowed questions, illuminated by firelight or moonlight, led by a train of fair hamadryads and faeries belonging to Diana, Artemis or Selene.

In other words, I've managed to get a handle on this whole law essay thang, which is pretty cool actually. Getting a handle on it involves reading the sources, again, and again, and making notes, and reading again. The case, however, is another matter. Now I have to choose: Entick v Carrington, or Bonham's Case, perhaps even Smith v the City of London. That last case I've had to strike off the list, as I said, because it is a Supreme Court case in Canada (although a similar, contemporary case: the Florence Mining Company v Cobalt Lake Mining Company, was brought before the Privy Council, in London, in 1911), not a UK case. Smith v City of London is a particularly curious case, but I am forced to let it go.

Settle thy studies Faustus, and begin to sound the depth of that thou wilt profess.

Another marvellous day, a joanna (piano), and a little singing, cajon and guitar

Dear Diary,

Slashes of salmon streaked wisps of clouds drew little lines across the sunsetting sky, with almost ominious looking cumulonimbus gathered, which could be fragments of Chaos prior to Nyx: another Hesiod. It was a beautiful sunset this evening. Unfortanely I forgot to check the schedule/rota at work. Bligh got a message to me, and as I unwrapped the tiny note from the pigeon's leg, I read, much to my surprise, that I was supposed to be onboard the Bounty, heading for the New World in search of breadfruit this evening. Bugger. It'll be fifty lashes beneath the yard arm, being whipped as a boy when next I board this dreadful and dreary and really quite boring day job at that... place (Hades, the Infernal Regions). It is perhaps a blessing, the possibility of being discharged from the ship's crew manifest as part of her cargo, another chattel tossed overboard or made to walk the plank at the inevitable sedition which soon takes hold of the ship. Mr. Christian saying to Bligh, "For these past few months I've been in Hell, Sir! Hell!". Anyway.

So I took the day off to play some music. Having crossed paths with the luthier, I managed to find a piano to play, which was nice. Later we played some cajon and guitar. Yet Sadly, when I was playing the piano little Ronulus went poo-pooh, twice, in a public place. I had to clean up after the little bugger straight away, apologise profusely to the owners and members of the public nearby. I then played, "Ronnie Barker: best dog in the world" a song I wrote for him when first I took him in (he's a stray, a former working dog).

"I got this dog Ronnie Barker, he's the best damn dog, in the whole wide world.
Ronnie Barker's my friend, he's my family, he means the whole damn world to me" (etc.) (etc) ...

It was really quite good to play some joanna, even if little Ronulus, the bugger, made foul of the situation. He's a good boy. Best dog in the world, but a cheeky monkey. Quite possibly the cheekiest monkey in the entire world, but he's a good boy. The best. Little Ronulus.

Anyhow. Much as Bligh will be dismayed, and I reflect upon not being minded to check the rota more thoroughly, twice, instead of once, at the beginning of the week, I will probably have to attend that... place (Hades) again in the near future. This I will do so willingly, but only because it is my duty to do my job as best I can, however humble or meek that task may be. Once this chap comes through with the code we need for the publishing business, we should be laughing, in theory. Certainly, there will be a four or so, perhaps even six month delay before I can rest awhile. Perhaps do some writing, like Cicero in the last couple of years of his life. I've really been getting into Milton's Paradise Lost lately. Anyway. I have a university assignment to write. No extensions on this course, and it's only 13 days until D-day. Ciao for now.

The learning curve, and an otherwise splendid day

Dear Diary,

It occurred to me while translating a little Latin recently (just some frivolous and really quite unimportant orator and historian from the first and second centuries of the Christian Era - no-one much cares about such triflingly insignificant things in Dark Age Britain) that I have put an awful lot of time into learning Latin. Twelve years, in fact. It's a little too late to change course now. I do, however, like studying the law, very much so. However, as much as the wiles and distractions of Dicey, Wade, Coke, Blackstone, Austin and Bentham make for a jolly fine little muse or hobby (for the law is nothing more than that in Dark Age Britain, well, certainly in terms of criminal law - the only branch I am interested in studying), Latin was my first love. Although I had a brief love affair - so to speak - with ancient Greek (and heaven only knows how much I see this mistress of sorts, from time to time, when impulse takes me), it is Latin to whom I am married, in scholarly terms, and it is Latin that has ravished me more times than I can remember - intellectually speaking. So, I began translating, and it dawned on me, very rapidly, that these dozen years essaying to fathom what was known on A397 (Continuing Classical Latin) as what seems to be "a thankless task" (namely, translating Latin), but that in translating such an author as this, perhaps it can be rewarding. I am only too aware that a true philosopher cares not for money, but knowledge, wisdom, kindness, goodness, and is ever mindful, honest, upright, tolerant, and does the right thing. However, this particular Latin scholar (that is by the day becoming ever more acquainted with reading actual manuscripts and deciphering scribal abbreviation - a talent not well understood by very many Latin scholars) does, in fact, have to pay rent, and must find from somewhere the rather high fees for his university course. Therefore, it is unwise to change course, so late in the game. Far better to apply what one's learnt to something practical and useful, rather than chase rainbows in the hope of finding some mythical leprechaun with a pot of gold at the end of it. A good grounding in public law, parliamentary sovereignty, the rule of law, human rights, devolution and the separation of powers, is beneficial only for poor people, namely, junior criminal barristers. However, a great grounding in one's chosen academic specialism is worth something. I remember, as I translated this little text, that the Magister Artium had come in rather useful. Therefore, my education has not been a complete and utter waste of time, even if the British have no honour, do not know how to conduct business properly and fairly, and offer - at best - merely volunteer "work" (slavery, however you dress it up). They (the University) make a lot of transferrable skills. I call this, "transferrable bullshit". The reason I call it such a profane and nonsensical name, is because rather than applying what one has learnt, over these past twelve years, in a job which is actually directly relevant (namely, Latin, Roman history, archaeology, classics) to what one has learnt, they seem to fondly imagine that these skills are somehow useful in some other capacity, completely and utterly irrelevant to having studied classical Latin for over a decade. A proof reader. Now that is one transferrable skill (BS) which I have done. Yet that could easily be done by someone that had merely studied English Lit', or not even any subject at all, but was well educated at school and tended to read a lot. It is, in short, beneath me.

Therefore, I am inclined to spend more and more time attempting to claw my way out of the gutter by precision targeted translations (niches: gaps in the market) and that is all. I have done my patriotic duty already (such things are worthless in Dark Age Britain) by translating Nennius' Historia Brittonum and penning my best and finest play: Boadicea: Queen of the Iceni. Now, is the time to actually go against my mother's maiden name, our family motto: quod iustum non quod utile ('[Do] what [is] right, not what [is] profitable'). I shall instead, do what is profitable. This may seem unwise to the would-be guru that lives in a cave or the monk that subsists on rainwater and scavenging for food by begging, but philosophy is the path of the pauper. That much has been perfectly evident since the days of Socrates or even Diogenes of Sinope. The latter, when offered anything in the world by Alexander the Great, was reputed to ask only for sunlight (for Alexander to stand out of his shade). Diogenes had a lot of sunlight, and not much else. According to one chronicler, someone pointed out that he had a begging bowl, and Diogenes cast it away exclaiming that he had not realised just how useless an object he had been carrying around. He lived in a barrel. This life, as much as it is quaint and antiquated, is not the life for me. I do not intend to live in a barrel, begging, without even a bowl. I intend to work, and work hard. As my rather vehement biker friend once said (and indeed my equally vehement ex-fiancée also posited): the only two people that make any money in this world are (a) the government [of which I have no truck with], and (b) the owners of businesses. Why be a slave to the system, when you can become a masterful player within it?

Today was rather splendid. I found a nice little Latin book. Met my philosopher friend, and the luthier. We are getting the band back together, which is jolly nice. Moreover, Bligh was not in at Hades, only the 'elder' thug (several years my junior, I might at) and the puerile oompa loompa, and her little domestic disaster of a foul mouthed curmudgeon of a sister: the Lilliputian. Therefore, it was relatively peaceful, what with the festivities being over now. Here's to 'propping one's self up, not being propped up' as Marcus Aurelius Antoninus once wrote.

Fiscal challenges, the law degree and another night

Dear Diary,

One might imagine that as a historian, I could be waffling on about the House of Commons being blown up by Guy Fawkes, or as a spectator of life, watching pretty fireworks displays or setting straw men on fire. Alas, no. I was in Hades this weekend (more on that later...).

I am concerned about the cost of this law degree. Evidently, criminal law is a subject for paupers, beggars, slaves, just as archaeology, classical Latin and ancient Greek are subjects for paupers, beggars and slaves in Dark Age Britain. I slog my bloody guts out, each evening, at the behest of impatient yelling teenagers and Eastern European thugs. The cost of my third degree is £15,000, up front, and for what? For a job which pays less than minimum wage. But it is the prestige, the honour of being f-ed up the ass by the State that means becoming a junior criminal barrister is such an "illustrious" profession, much like becoming a university lecturer (therefore having to take a part time job to secure enough for your family, and have your pension taken away), or a junior doctor (for example, Rose Polge in 2016) that throws herself into the sea because there is no point in making anything of yourself here, now, in Dark Age Britain. The more you learn, the less you earn. Now, some may say I am superficial and materialistic, but when a junior criminal barrister, or a junior doctor, or a university lecturer isn't even paid enough to make ends meet, so has to take jobs on the side just to keep their head above water, evidently, something is very wrong, somewhere.

I'm f-ing off the law degree. Why? Because criminal law - in Dark Age Britain at least - is a subject for poor people, beggars, slaves. Take, for example, someone that knows:

The notion that "fat-cat solicitors and swaggering ruddy-nosed barristers are gorging on taxpayer cream, cackling as they speed away from court in their open-top BMWs to quaff legally aided Dom Pérignon 1966 after a half-day spent pulling the wool over a jury's eyes" contains no truth whatsoever (Anonmymous, 2019, p.202 [Stories of the Law and How It's Broken {The Secret Barrister}]. The truth is, that studying law, just like studying Latin, at university, gets you absolutely nowhere, except in debt, only to do a very difficult job for less than minimum wage (once overtime and expenses are factored in). Yet it's the "prestige", the "honour" of becoming a junior criminal barrister that counts, right?

Wrong. It's a tough job, very tough, and is worth more than this, a lot more.

Back to Hades. This evening the oompa loompa lost her s- again, as did the older thug. Luckily, we had an audience. Amid the chaos, the yelling, throwing things (by the oompa loompa) and the older thug swearing in his usual gangster type demeanor (his pitbull is also called 'gangster' by the way - which tells you something about the man: not only of the most common breeding and combative nature, but also his choice of appelation for his hound). The audience (customers) began to laugh. To which the thug replied, "Is not funny" then began swearing, and I don't mean on a solemn oath over the river Styx or an oath sworn to the All-Seeing Sun God. I mean, he lost his s-. I admit, I found it quite amusing. Here the most experienced, the most well educated, the most mindful, are nothing in Dark Age Britain. On the contrary, as the Lilliputian and oompa loompa have proved time and time again, yelling, throwing things, and employing profanities, buckling under even the slightest pressure, is where it's at. I would go further than this. I would say that - far from having a sense of mindfulness, and thinking about the consequences of one's actions, here, in Dark Age Britain, it is purposely being unmindful which is the way to get ahead. These teenagers, when they clean the sides, throw food everywhere. When they take pans or grilles, they slam them down. This essentially amounts to puerile attention seeking, a low frustration tolerance and having no patience whatsover. I know for a fact that these people have not read "If" by Rudyard Kipling. They do not keep their heads about them when all others lose theirs. On the contrary, they enjoy being utterly brainless, lacking in all reason, and certainly not at all polite.

What of age, experience, education, politeness, caring, being thoughtful, being mindful? These things make one the very worst kind of human being, the lowest, most basest slave that ever subsisted in this once great nation. Imagine, two degrees, a third in law, and what is there? Nothing. Nay, less than nothing: volunteer 'work' (if you're lucky...), which is nothing more than slavery, however you dress it up and pretend it's something it's not.

These are the Dark Ages, and anyone that thinks otherwise is living in f-ing Rainbow land. And that too, is a fact.

Samhain - from a hermetic philosophical perspective.

Dear Diary,

It is said that the veil between the spirit world and our earth is at its thinnest at this time of year. There is actually a brief discussion of this in the hermetic philosophical text the Asclepius (7b-8), preserved in Latin only. It is found in the Nock and Festugiere critical edition (vol.2) on pp.304-306, or in (my) translation on pp.89-90, which I have quoted a little of here.

Trismegistus: God's will is the very highest perfection inasmuch as since he is to have meditated and could have fulfilled this, he had achieved one and the same thing in an instant. Thus when God was considering the ουσιώδης ('essence') it wasn't possible to hold everything dear unless it was hidden by a worldly veil (mundanum integimentum). God had covered it in a corporeal house and it was to be all such kinds as he had anticipated, and out of each nature blending and mingling into one: however much he had kept back was to be enough. And so God formed man out of body and soul (that is, out of a mortal and an eternal part) from nature as an animal [or 'living being']. So by having been formed and each from its origin would be able to be satisfied with both wonder and speech, celestial and eternal, both to inhabit and govern only earthly mortality:... the cultivation of the earth, tending pastures, buildings, maintaining ports, taking voyages, establishing communication systems and services of other kinds coming into being. It is man who is the strongest at pulling humanity's fabric together, mutually... saved by the study and application of the arts and education, that God had not wanted a perfected world to be without. For necessity followed the teachings of God and accomplishment attended the will to do so. It is not credible that what had pleased God intended to displease him, since it will do and was intended to please him, that man would know many of the teachings beforehand.

Asclepius 8 (trans. Latham, 2020, pp.89-90 [Corpus Hermeticum - The Power and Wisdom of God Falcon Books Publishing]) probably translated from ancient Greek into Latin by Apuleius during the 2nd century of the Christian Era.

Early female barristers in the UK and creative writing

Dear Diary,

Despite the fact that I seem to have a flair for the study of law (although this has yet to be tested thoroughly...), I am becoming less and less inclined to study it as a subject, formally, and more and more inclined to use it, as a tool for creative writing. Stumbling across illustrious historical persons in the legal profession, namely Helena Normanton Q.C. (a 'silk' id est of the élite) and Ivy Williams, during the course of my reading, gives me food for thought about a fictitious character that is an early female barrister. Perhaps the most curious person is Jane Archer M.B.E. (known as 'Jane Sissmore' elsewhere). This person's life is so secret, that she does not even make it into the Oxford National Dictionary of Biography, not because she was a lady (for there are many illustrious female scholars, adventurers and pioneers in the ONDB), but because of her connections to SIS. Wikipedia, however, is for once at least, more reliable than the Oxford Dictionary. I confess, I am fascinated by these important female pioneers. I should like very much for my protagonist to be a barrister (I refer to my female detective stories which I have been working on for the past six years or so - on and off). The time line matches, more or less. I will have to evolve the characters somewhat in order to do this. My main character, for example, has the same academic specialism as I do (for what else can I write about except for a subject which I have been studying for twelve years now?...). Yet, I would make a barrister of her yet. Being of good family, means her character doesn't need to scrape around for pennies in the gutter, but studies and undertakes (freelance) detective work simply because it occupies her mind, which, like her father's is over-active and requires exercise. She studies simply because she likes studying. She solves mysteries simply because she loves getting to the bottom of the matter and unravelling its core. She is discreet, extremely so, and just as polite. She - like her father - has her 'demons' (foibles), but this is perfectly proper, and in fact, makes the character more human, not being such a paragon of excellence, but more like a woman with an iron will, utterly fearless, but deep down, beneath her mask, she is as gentle as a dove and has tender feelings which she rarely - if ever - shows. Strictly professional. It's an interesting muse, indeed, she is an interesting muse. I shall tell you more about it once the first collection of stories is published.

This brings me to my second point. I should like the early days to be a kind of courtship between her and her side-kick, a certain other student at their alma mater. While undergraduates, they meet, and - eventually - fall in love (though this is only ever hinted at, and certainly never explicitly stated). Then, later on, he becomes a doctor, and her: a barrister (after she realises that her passion for antiquities are just that: ancient history, and that the law is where it's at). This, however, breaks a number of cardinal rules: firstly, her absolute discretion. How can she prosecute one of the suspects in the story, if (a) she is not even supposed to mention their existence to the authorities? and (b) she is not even supposed to mention the victim to the authorities? (but instead remain absolutely discreet). Well, this is not the case in every case. There will undoubtably be cases where there are trials. Yet, what about the clerk of the court? How can she be assigned a case, when it is evident that she has a vested interest in the case, has been party to it, and was instrumental in bringing the culprit to justice? Well, for a start, this is fiction, so there are no hard and fast rules. Yet this isn't good enough, so, I feel that the character's ability to tread extremely carefully, and operate in the shadows, with absolute discretion, will ensure that she seems to have no connection to the said case. Moreover, she is a woman, and an extremely beautiful and indeed persuasive woman at that (when needs be). So it would be quite possible for her to, say... be assigned a particular case, should she wish to be, through the gentle female art of persuasion, tactfully, discreetly, of course - much like my ex-fiancée has and still does, moving in such high circles ('the great and the good' as she calls them) for example. For a woman, anything is possible, especially when men can be so very fickle and easily manipulated.

As for Hades, I am becoming less and less enthralled about that place. Even on a relatively 'quiet' Saturday night, with minimal fuss, it is still very evident that this place is run by a most unreasonable loud mouthed dictator. Although Bligh outranks the oompa loompa, this particular person is extremely distasteful. Nobody moves! (She commanded imperiously this evening). Nobody, that is, except her. Nobody speaks! (She commanded, as though jelous Juno, imbued with arbitrary decrees). Nobody, that is, except her and the Lilliputian (her sister). I remember once being told to stay completely still, even though a fire had broken out. This is completely beyond the bounds of reason. It is a dictatorship.

Potential new opportunities, a breakthrough and a review of objectives (goals)

Dear Diary,

Denzel Washington once said in a motivational speech at a university in the States, that you should set yourself goals, daily goals, weekly goals, monthly goals. The goals I had set myself, I feel, were unrealistic. How is it that I have earned two degrees and am still only working doing unskilled labour for minimum wage beneath a bunch of Eastern European thugs and young teenaged tyrants? Furthermore, my illusions and rose-tinted view of the criminal justice system have also been rapidly shattered due to reading the Secret Barrister's works. The theory is far detached from the reality, and although it is easy to poke holes and critique a system which otherwise works well in many cases, the under-funding of the CPS and the police have left quite a mark on the UK's criminal justice system, and it is not - I feel - a place where I may be welcomed with open arms and become 'one of the family'. I'm a commoner. I was educated at a regular school. Barristers are ‘anxious to give the impression of legal pedigree’ and ‘snobbery is ingrained’ (Anonymous, 2022, pp.35-36 cf. pp.41-42 [Nothing But the Truth]). My education since then has led nowhere. Moreover, Hades has become increasingly frustrating lately, so much so that I've been applying for new jobs (again unskilled labour for minimum wage - but what else are you going to do with your master's degree in classical Latin in Dark Age Britain? Not a lot, is the true answer). I am living proof of this very real fact.

However, there is something which I am extremely good at, and that's writing. Prosaic nonsense (novels, short stories, whatever) or indeed the much more heavenly and divine writing style (and indeed more challenging to write): elegant poetic forms, I'm really rather gifted at writing, by the grace of God, and indeed well trained.

In any case, I truly hope that I get this kitchen job I applied for, because I've had it with the simpleton from the village, the voiciferous and vitriolic oompa loompa and the foul mouthed Lilliputian and Wild One. There is, however, the fact that one of my colleagues holds a degree in web design from the University of Bath (he is a nice chap, having attended an excellent school - and I mean extremely good, outmatched by only one other around here: Malborough, which is very nobby indeed). Having attended the very finest schools, holding a degree in a useful subject from one of the better universities, naturally he does unskilled labour for minimum wage: because this is Dark Age Britain: there’s absolutely no doubt about that. The gentleman-scholar has agreed to help me with my eBook and book formatting, for a fee of course (which I offered), and this only after much gentle persuasion. So, instead of hammering away at yet another four years of being poor, fronting £1,614 per module (plus interest!), I've decided, after much deliberation, to put the brakes on this degree idea. I can always pick it up another time. There are other - much more important - things I could be doing, like learning how to drive and getting a car, for a start. (It should be noted that this other gentleman-scholar drives, and so of course, he does unskilled labour for minimum wage, naturally).

I can use what I've learnt on the law course (much of which I have decided to research happens to fall just before the time in which my female detective series is set) to finish my female detective stories, and publish some of those. (They are the greatest pieces of prose work I have ever written). A keen knowledge of the law during this period is useful for a writer of detective stories. Moreover, I already have many books which are either complete or very nearly complete: translations, and indeed my magnum opus the national epic: Boadicea: Queen of the Iceni. I can become a writer, it's possible, if only thanks to my colleague at work that writes well written well optimised code. What's more, I have already bought a book on HTML5 and CSS3 (thinking I was going to have to do it all from scratch myself), so can edit and the code at will, and learn a lot in doing so. I am quite content to be a writer and translator. I even found another colleague at work (who's since quit to do freelancing accounting on the side, in addition to becoming a chartered accountant). This person used one word, in the description of her work, which I prize most highly: honesty. Yes, I have found an honest accountant. She described my business as precisely what it is, in quantative methods' terms: 'a micro-entity'. Therefore the accounts for my firm, at least to begin with, will be easily done, perhaps even in a day for a whole year. I need to have my finances in order, and the tax return all done well in order to be able to survive. I will need to register the business, and begin trading.

I have heard from other writers that don't sell very many books indeed, that they simply write more books and more books, until they have enough passive income streams to be able to write for a living. I don't intend to do that with sub-standard novels (as they do), but only with extremely well written, re-drafted, well-structured, well-planned, well-researched works. For example, one of my translations was the subject of my final dissertation at university on the master's degree, therefore, shall we say, "I know a little bit about it" (to use British understatement...). If one searches for this work at the university's library, one only has one result returned. That's it. I had to go the extra mile to research this work, asking fellow colleagues and friends that are academics to get hold of some of the rarer papers on the topic. Moreover, I have invested much time and money in acquiring books on the work, so I have a large pool of rich information from which to draw on. This edition of this work will also be comparatively cheap (the only two other translations - barring one other, done over two hundred years ago - retail for £25 or £170!). I will, of course, undercut the competition considerably, just like Denzel Washington's character in American Gangster, "I'm a Renaissance man." I sell the highest quality product (far outweighing anything the competition has to offer) at a cut down price. Why? Because I can. Self-publishing earns the author many more royalties than traditional publishing. "I'm a Renaissance man." Remember also, that this is just one book I have already translated. There are numerous ones completed already.

So what's the goal for 2023? I'm looking at gaps in the market, books that there are no other translations available anywhere else (in physical form at least). I'll corner the market on those. There is also another book, on the syllabus, of which there is only one other translation available, done over fifty years ago and a pretty inaccurate one at that (in places at least). I can make it out of Hades, claw my way back up to the Light, like Orpheus and Eurydice. I have to just have one thing: faith. Keep pushing, keep working, keep on keeping on. The law was a nice little hobby and everything (which would have cost a mere £15,000, what a bargain, eh?) but mmmmmmm.... no. I think not, somehow. For what? For example, the junior criminal barristers were lately on strike for working for less than minimum wage, effectively (this is also mentioned in the Secret Barrister's works - so this has been the case for years now), one all the overheads of doing the job are factored in (not least of which a £500 wig!). Moreover, many university lecturers went on strike just the other day over pay (there have been many strikes over the past half a dozen years by university lecturers, I might add), so that job is out of the window. Yesterday I noticed a work opportunity on the university's law website. It was becoming a prison guard working for free! This is slavery, which ever way you cut it. Yet this is the way things have been for a very long time. For example, read Pliny the Youngers letters to the Emperor Trajan (10.19-20), writing perhaps at the beginning of the second century of the Christian Era, to which Trajan replied, nihil opus sit, mi Secunde carissime, ad continendas custodias plures commilitones converti. perseveremus in ea consuetudine, quae isti provinciae est, ut per publicos servos custodiantur. ("There should be no work [of this kind], my dearest [Gaius Plinius] Secundus [minor], to have switched many [slave-]prison guards for soldiers. We should persevere in the custom which is at that province of yours (Bithynia), that they [the prisoners] should be guarded by public slaves" [10.20.1 - my translation]). Therefore, this tradition which the university advertises and the state endorses, is a very ancient one. Why not use slave labour to take care of prisoners?

A day off, the law course and Euclio's new/old job

Dear Diary,

My day off was relatively mundane, except for the fact that I happened to stroll into town and in the course of my studying (for as Plutarch said of Scipio: he was never so busy as when he had nothing to do) at a local tavern (the 'battery farm drinkers' - normally I opt for a higher brow establishment, but being a law student and working full time means I am poor, naturally. This is Britain 2022, not Elizabethan England) Divine Providence ensured that I happened to cross paths with the luthier. It was nice to see him, for I haven't seen him in a while. We shared a drink (I, the finest Belgian ale, him, a lager of another kind, but certainly not the cheapest, as the man has good taste, if not excellent) and caught up. He welcomed me to his home where we played music together, and I thanked him for his hospitality.

The evening was uneventful.

The next day, I had to return to Hades, but enough of that for now. In my 'down' time (while not reading law), I am reading Stories of the Law (etc.) by the "Secret Barrister". Aside from learning some interesting and useful facts about being a barrister (the reality of which is far removed from mere theoretical works on the subject), I am becoming less and less enthused about becoming a barrister. It's not just the poor pay, the heavy work load, the extremely long hours, but it is the state of the UK's criminal justice system which concerns me. There is something good in all of this studying, though: inspiration for writing prose fiction (this being the literary Dark Ages means that prosaic fiction is rated far more highly than epic plays, magnificent poetry, or the works of Hesiod, Homer, Virgil or Ovid: this isn't the time of Lorenzo d'Medici in Florence: it's Dark Age Britain). Becoming a junior criminal barrister is for poor people (hence why they, like university lecturers and train drivers) are all on strike at the moment. I even read that they earn less than minimum wage, once expenses are factored in (this is written in the Secret Barrister's works). So what's the incentive? Well, there is none, almost. There is the fact that becoming a barrister (much like becoming a doctor) is a great honour. There is also a like similie that junior doctors, just like junior criminal barristers (in this country at least...) get shafted, financially.

Hades was... annoying. The simpleton from the village insists on doing his preposterous yardy pseudo-Jamaican accent the entire time. Some of what he says comes in the form of veiled threats. This has been going on for four... whole... days... now. According to the luthier (who used to live among ex-Jamaicans in London), it is unwise to put on such an accent. Not only is it very disrespectful, but it is also most impolite. One could very well land in hot water, so to speak, having used such an accent among ethnic minorities. It is incorrect. Yet more than that, the Londoner luthier told me why people do it: to (try and) make others fear them. The little boy doesn't scare me, and he certainly never addresses me in that accent (at least, when we are alone). It is always best to be one's self. I suspect that this young man's mind is beginning to unravel, and not in a good way.

Euclio has a new job. Well, his old job back, clothed in fresh garments, working under his old boss. I am happy for the man, sincerely.

A (potential) new job possibility and the law course

Dear Diary,

No shop talk. Hades was... Tartarus. On a brighter and much less dreary note, there appears to be a new start-up hiring translators at the moment. I applied straight away, despite having no formal qualification in French. Having lived there for years and holding two degrees in classical Latin should help. I would like to think I get the job, God willing, because it will mean getting out of Hades, at least for a while (the position was listed as 'casual' - therefore it is doubtful whether there will be regular work). It would be enough to get through this course, being able to pay my university fees on time, buy the required books (and then there are silly things like rent and food to worry about, of secondary importance I suppose). It would be enough to know that I do a job which is at least loosely related to something I spent twelve years studying at university towards (even if it is a completely different language, several thousands of years removed from the language I spent twelve years studying. Surely this is not 1463 in Florence under Cosimo d'Medici: it's Dark Age Britain).

The law course is going quite well. I can't sleep for some reason, and there appears to be a mosquito in my room (this species of insect has only relatively recently migrated to the UK, thanks to global warming - previously they could not make it across the Channel. The only reason I know it's a mosquito is from its distinctive sound just before it injects you, having lived abroad for years). So, alongside reading the relevant official literature and bona fides law books, I am reading the Secret Barrister's works alongside, as a little 'light' reading. I have begun Stories of the Law and How it's Broken today, and I am pleased to say that the (anonymous) author does not employ anywhere near as many profanities in this work as he or she did in Nothing But the Truth. It is actually quite informative for a would-be barrister, as much as it is soul destroying, painting a picture of this country's legal system in stark colours. It makes me pity people like caseworkers for the CPS, police officers and all the other people in the legal profession, at the amount of stripping away and cuts to this nation's once proud legal system. To cite just a couple of examples, he or she writes that:

"Sitting at the long bench in front of me is Megan, the Crown Prosecution Service['s] caseworker, who is the court['s] representative of the prosecuting agency instructing me as their advocate to take down Mr [Defendant]. Once upon a time this would have been a CPS lawyer, but repeated budget cuts mean that there is now usually a single adminstrative caseworker covering multiple courtrooms, and rushing around to tend the demands of multiple barristers and multiple judges." (Anonymous, 2018, p.34).

On pp.180-184 he or she goes into some detail regarding these cuts and austerity measures, which have nearly crippled the courts in being able to dispense justice properly, meaning that many criminals each year get away with crimes, even when there is no reason for them to be able to escape being brought to justice. The author also highlights the parliamentary report beginning with the words 'the criminal justice system is close to breaking point' (p.14) published in 2016, in light of the legislation introduced which slashed legal aid to ribbons, thus denying justice to many of the poor.

On the up side, the author discusses very many crucial elements to the evolution and history of our justice system (many of which are being eroded as I speak) which are invaluable to a keen student of the law. For example, on p.41 the author writes:

"In 1791, in a trial at the Old Bailey, celebrity barrister [of the day] William Garrow sternly told the judge that 'every man is presumed to be innocent until proven guilty'. This was the first formal articulation of what would, in 1935, be described by the Court of Appeal as 'the golden thread' running through the web of English criminal law - the presumption of innocence, and the burden of proof. Its application in practice - that the prosecution must prove its case beyond reasonable doubt."

Of the many law texts I have read so far, I do not recall this being mentioned in even one, whereas it should really be in all of them, in truth. It is anecdotes like these, and indeed insights into the criminal justice system, that make these books extremely valuable to the keen student of the law in the UK. (I make notes as I read them). I will not cite them in an assignment of course, but the author does provide end-notes in many cases, and cites statutes or (less often) landmark cases, each of which can be followed up and cited in an assignment. Good night Diary.

A little morning drama

Dear Diary,

There is a friend of Euclio ('Stalin') and I that lives near here. She is a kind person, but sadly was diagnosed with cancer some years ago. She just called the house and I dashed to the phone (I usually simply ignore it, but something inside me told me to run downstairs and answer it). I accidentally pressed 'speaker phone' when answering. It was said lady, and she didn't seem herself, her voice was really quite different, not herself at all. After passing Euclio the phone, in a rare moment of succor, Euclio jumped on his bike and rode off. I dashed outside and inquired whether the lady was alright. He said that he wasn't sure whether to call an ambulance. Therefore, I called an ambulance, giving them her phone number. (What was Euclio going to do? Comfort her as she dies? Get her a pillow? This situation requires trained paramedics, with equipment and the means to get the lady to a hospital). I should imagine that the person on the end of the phone (999) once he hears what the lady sounds like, will probably ensure that an ambulance is sent, for it is an emergency. I should hope so anyway. It's just another day, but not like usual. I hope she's alright. Evidently she's not alright, she's dying of cancer. In any case, I hope she's okay.

I applied for another job yesterday. Naturally it has nothing to do with what I spent 12 years studying at university, but that's okay: this isn't Elizabethan England or Renaissance Italy: it's Dark Age Britain. The job basically involves watching popular culture movies (Marvel/DC) then writing short favourable reviews of them. I am starting to think that I should have bought comic books rather than ancient primary sources, infused with wisdom and abounding in knowledge (for had I large comic book collection, I would certainly be more well-placed in a job like this). Yet this isn't the Abbasid Caliphate, where knowledge and wisdom are actually worth something: we live in the Dark Ages, where comic books mean more than university degrees.

How was my day? Well, let me see. Firstly, I had to ensure that the lady was alright. She was rushed to hospital, with Euclio in tow, helping out as best he could (will wonders never cease?). It is nice to know that the authorities have it in hand, that she is safe, and recovering.

There was a video call today between certain members and colleagues of our law course. It is always nice to speak with other intellectuals, and especially nice when I am the only gentleman among a bevvy of swans: fair maidens. Sadly most are spoken for, but still, it was nice to peacock plume a little. They seemed to think I was somehow intelligent. We have to remember that many of my colleagues are also extremely well educated people, so it's important to be humble, sincerely. I wasn't as humble as could have been, of course: I was my usual bright self. I am no genius. My I.Q. is only 139, one point below genius. The late savant Didier Deman said, when I mentioned this, that, "the test must be wrong." In any case, it was nice to meet some other intellectuals, each from their own scholastic background. One scholar, took the precise same approach as I have to the current assignment: working backwards. Some students simply go through the paces, without a second thought to what's coming. I've studied with this institution enough to know that reading ahead works. On (the now obsolete) A200 module [Medieval and Modern History], for example, if one reads ahead, one gains an advantage on one's current assignment. The university is very smart: for example, each module tied seamlessly into the next. Many of these modules are now long gone, which is a shame, but by the grace of God, I have been extremely blessed by having benefitted from a certain amount of 'old school' education (especially Latin), but also been able to study many modules in which I have been a part of the first cohort: the guinea pigs. This means I have had the privilege of studying both the good old-fashioned style of studying, blended with the very latest research and methods. Similarly, the module I am currently studying is brand new, which is great. It was a sincere pleasure to meet fellow intellectuals, bright damsels, like elegant blue butterflies, flitting from flower to flower, each sporting beneath the sun as its rays pierce the verdant branches of old England's trees and green shoots, like warm beams of pure benevolence, calming the soul, in stillness and tranquility.

Then came Hades. The simpleton from the village has become especially annoying. Instead of making the sound of a duck or a moor hen, he has now taken to doing a very poor and most distateful impression of a Jamaican rastafarian. He's no Dan Acroyd (Trading Places), he was more like Gene Wilder in Silver Streak, for hours, and hours, and hours. He's been doing this absurd and really quite offensive impression since yesterday, and keeps on doing it. (Remember, this is the boy that falsely accused me of being a racist! And was soon admonished when the truth came to light, I might add. I still have a permenant burn on my arm when I happened to catch some hot pans on it, a perpetual reminder of that ill-omened evening). This is a simpleton from the village. He's never lived in Chapeltown in Leeds or Moss Side in Manchester, or Brixton, London. One day he's going to do that impression - and God help him if he does - in the wrong place at the wrong time, and he'll get more than a sharp word, not from some honkey like me, but by someone that doesn't find it funny. Needless to say, he didn't dare address me in that ridiculous tone. Maturity doesn't come over night, and around me - for some strange reason - he feels obliged to be mature, peering at my grey beard, knowing well that while he was in daipers, I was already 30 something. This, is my "superior", my better, my boss. This, is Dark Age Britain, where age, experience, being a decent human being, being well educated, polite, mindful, considerate, compassionate, kind, all mean absolutely nothing. It is a nation of savages.

The essay: a change in light of a rather curious book

Dear Diary,

Yesterday I was really quite sure that I had my heart set on citing Loughlin's book review as my chosen article. Today, however, the book arrived (I speak of Mark D. Walters' A.V. Dicey and the Common Law Constitutional Tradition - A Legal Turn of Mind published by Cambridge University Press). It is a remarkable work, sincerely. More than simply outlining a biography (yet another biography) of Dicey's really quite curious life and works, it also highlights a number of other important works on the subject of constitutional law. I am only part way through the work, but from the first page I find it compelling, interesting and eminently readable. I shall most certainly be choosing that as my chosen academic source, rather than a mere book review. Among the works cited there is a certain book entitled Constitutional Justice by Trevor Allen (2001) which may yet prove to be informative reading.

I like Dicey, very much. Evidently, his work(s) - for better or worse - have left an indelible mark upon the history of the UK constitution, and shall almost certainly remain so (even if there are a number of scalding and partisan critiques of his life's works). Does Dicey still remain relevant? To me he does, though I am well aware that there are many others that do not believe so. Perhaps one of the most interesting things about this book, is that the author - Mark Walters - has taken the time and trouble to eagerly seek out very many personal letters written to and from Dicey, upon which he draws during the course of its pages. It is rather like an overview of Pliny the Younger's works, or perhaps even Cicero's. Even as someone that has become disillusioned with politics, someone that no longer votes, and comes from a... background of tending towards the edges of the political horseshoe, I find Dicey really quite a fascinating character. He is liberal, almost scientific in his treatment of the UK (well, English) constitution. A 'Mid-Victorian' as he described himself, he was eccentric, brilliant, far underrated in his own time, and underachiever (in his own eyes at least). Dicey never attained his goals: wishing a successful political career as an orator, or indeed as a judge, and he even refused a knighthood! Dicey strikes me as a kind of 'all or nothing' type of chap, and I like that, very much.

Today I searched in vain in the supermarket for that fair flower whose attentions gravitated towards me yesterday. I should think nothing of this, but I do. I thought, perhaps, that this charming thirty-something might have finished work at the same time as she did yesterday, and be there again, but alas no. It is of no consequence. Should it be the will of Divine Providence, our paths may yet cross again.

Work (Hades) was as it always is, a boring chore. Though there were moments of levity, this is merely the calm before the storm, for weekends are always the toughest. I cannot help but feel in the back of my mind that all this reading, all the study I have done, amounts to nothing, nay, less than nothing (to the tune of £25,000, minus the hundreds and hundreds of pounds spent on books). Still, I press on, undettered. I should imagine that even if I am of no value here, in my once beloved homeland, that there are places in the world where holding a master's degree actually means something. It is quite certain that were I in any country in the world other than this one, I would be held in much higher regard than I am here, and that I would certainly not be doing unskilled labour for the barest minimum remuneration.

The first assignment (that, and a chance meeting with a beautiful stranger).

Dear Diary,

I've been racking my brains for how on earth I'm going to plan, research, write, re-write, re-write again, then sumbit this first law assignment. My tutor's advice (which I believe is sound) is "not to overthink it". It 'ain't my first rodeo, not by a long shot, and this should be like shootin' fish, a walk in the park, easy meat. However, I have several concerns and reservations. Firstly: every mark counts. I have to get a first (which means getting 86% or more on each essay [at very many other universities you only need 70%]). My marks have been steadily improving, but I will not settle for less than a first. The chances are I probably won't get a first (though I might...). I have to. Why? It's a book I read by Peter Hennessey (not one of his more notable works on law or politics, interestingly, this one's about nuclear war: The Secret State). Hennessey discusses the infamous "Cambridge Five" and in his discussion of them, it is quite plain that in this country, you don't get anywhere unless you get a first. I'll be back in McDonald's before I know it. A degree in classical Latin? A master's? Now a law degree? All they mean, in this country, is that you work in McDonald's. That's it. It is not a civilised country (though it pretends - and pretends very well - to be). There is no point in becoming university educated, here, now, in Dark Age Britain, unless you get a first. That's the reality. People may tell you otherwise, but they don't know what they're talking about.

I remember seeing one hard-nosed industrialist (himself not university educated) from up north somewhere, and he says to his interviewees: "Why didn't you get a first? You should have got a first, you're lazy." This is evidence that there is absolutely no point in becoming university educated, unless you get a first. Sure, elsewhere in the world you can do something other than unskilled labour with three degrees, but not in Dark Age Britain. In fact, I know, personally, several people with multiple degrees, distinction students, and they all do unskilled labour for minimum wage, here, now, in Dark Age Britain. That's the reality, not f-ing Rainbowland. (It makes me think I should have studied English Lit', Documentary Photography [cop out subjects] or Music [something I already know a great deal about, having been a professional musician for more than twenty years]). Now, if you're some nobby prick that never did a day's work in your life (such as our former Prime Minister, for example - the one which was booted out for sleaze), you don't need a first, but for the rest of us, you do.

So, I've been over thinking this essay, and over thinking it, and overthinking it. However, in overthinking it, I've read a lot, and made notes. I haven't read as much as I should have (mainly because I'm six episodes away from finishing watching all five seasons of Breaking Bad - which is a great show by the way, in case you haven't seen it [though it's still nowhere as good as House of Cards - British or American]). Anyhow, I've ordered a bunch of books, and am drilling my way through them steadily. Here are a list of the following titles I have invested in recently:

Public Law (Elliott and Thomas, OUP, 2nd ed.) [Public Law 3rd ed. is the set text for this course]
Complete Public Law (Webley and Samuels, OUP, 4th ed.)
Blackstone's statutes: Public Law and Human Rights (only the 2019 ed.)
Plato: The Statesman (trans. Skemp [for old time's sake])
Aristotle: Politics (only Jowett's trans.)
Introduction to the Study of the Law of the Constitution Albert Venn Dicey (8th ed. [1915 - his last edition before he died])
The Spirit of the Laws Charles Montesquieu (trans. Nugent) [I also invested in a commentary, in French]
Nothing But the Truth (The Secret Barrister)
Stories of the Law and How it's Broken (The Secret Barrister)
Fake Law (The Secret Barrister) [these last three are purely for practical purposes]
A.V. Dicey and the Common Law Constitutional Tradition: A Legal Turn of Mind (by Mark Walters Cambridge University Press)

That last one is (probably) going to be the subject of my essay (well, a scalding book review of it, and only because that is more recent 2022, as opposed to 2020). By extension, it will be about Dicey's Study of the Law of the Constitution (someone I am particularly interested in). We have to choose a case study for one part of the assignment, so I have chosen Jackson v Attorney General (2006). This is because it relates to parliamentary sovereignty (one of the five choices for the rubric). I almost went for the rule of law, but I feel that parliamentary sovereignty is more topical (basically because the Lord Advocate Dorothy Bains mentioned Dicey very recently in the context of parliamentary sovereignty, in her first session before the Supreme Court on the 11th of October: Reference by the Lord Advocate of devolution issues under paragraph 34 of Schedule 6 to the Scotland Act 1998 (UKSC 2022/0098)). I did notice, that she also mentioned the Jackson case, so this all ties in nicely (well, almost, because in truth her case was about a referendum, and when she cited Dicey, she did not cite his Study of the Law of the Constitution but another article he had written). In any case, I'm overthinking things, as per usual.

Hades is not worth mentioning. However, while in the supermarket today I happened to be browsing the bakery section when a rather comely looking lady and I met. We locked eyes and smiled. I was somewhat timid, so went to another aisle. Suddenly, she appeared next to me, stopped where I stopped. Then, when I went to the checkout, she chose the one immediately next to me, and began singing (at low volume). I don't know if this was merely coincidence, but I sometimes play music in this town, sometimes the piano, sometimes the guitar, and I always sing. It may be nothing. She was perhaps in her early thirties, and works among nature. It is, at least, nice to know that I appear attractive to a member of the opposite sex, her age (and she was really quite beautiful).

A surprisingly pleasant evening, and one's career prospects

Dear Diary,

At that... place (Hades), it was relatively quiet this evening. As a result, the oompa loompa was not yelling and throwing things (as usual), Bligh was on shore leave, again searching for his elusive bread-fruit, even the Lilliputian was comparatively pleasant (though her usual explitives [which are really quite unnecessary] virtually every other word were, as always in attendance). Naturally, as I went about my most servile and base duties (being the basest slave that ever subsisted in this once mighty nation) I listened to Handel's Messiah. This merely became a source of ridicule, but one has developed a rhinocerine skin, being among the very lowest dregs of society: brutes without reason, barbarians, savages with absolutely no taste (save garish baubles and trinkets, and not a book read between them). Yet, enough of Hades. Let us think on more elevated and notable matters.

I like the law, very much, just as I like fine Belgian craft ale, but I love classical studies, just as I love the very finest full-bodied Italian red vintage. Yes, there is the slimmest chance that Almighty God may yet permit me to become one of the elect (what I term the 'Diceyean orthodoxy', not one of the 'silks' [King's Counsels], but at the very least, a competent would-be barrister in the back-woods provinces: at the discretion of the judiciary, of course). It is not impossible, though, like some rich man that had no sense of humanity or kindness being able to enter the Kingdom of Heaven, there is perhaps more chance of a camel making it through the eye of a needle. Two things happened today, one for, one against, my maintaining morale at a high, a persevering towards such a goal as this.

There is a man there, not particularly well read (none of them are), simple, but kind hearted. He is a rough diamond, but is venerable and kind, and almost always in good humour. He talked to me about the common noun focus. I immediately replied that the noun stems from the Latin, but did not tell him what it means. Upon his return (for he had duties to attend) we explored it further. I imparted my knowledge, which is that focus is a Latin word, meaning the hearth of the family home: the place where one's ancestral gods were placed (idols), the central fireplace which the family sat around, the focus (cf. Horace, Letters 1.5.7: "The fireplace burns for a long while now, and the furniture is clean for you" iamdudum splendet focus et tibi munda supellex [my translation]). This chap's idea of focus was grammatically and etymologically incorrect, yet sometimes a source of wisdom comes not in the form of a well educated, polite, kind, pious and moral philosopher, but sometimes in the form of an uneducated bumpkin from the provinces. His take on focus was as an acronym: Follow One Course Until Successful. I thought about his meaning, not merely in terms of focusing (to use the word as a present participle, in the King's English) on the job in hand, but also what I am to do about the law. I ought to abandon it. It's twelve years now I've been studying Latin (and ancient Greek), so it would be foolish to abandon such studies now, just because this is a nation of slaves, beggars and savage wild-men, with absolutely no respect for people with a classical education. It's a big wide world out there, and this is just one... little... island.

On the other hand, on my way home, a fellow that lives in the same village as me, encouraged me to become a barrister, in spite of its 'nobby' culture. According to the Secret Barrister ‘snobbery is ingrained’ ([Anonymous Author], 2022, pp.41-42 [Nothing But the Truth]). It's possible, maybe. I have the day off tomorrow, so for now, I am reading Montesquieu (De l'esprit des lois), that, and trying not to indulge in watching Breaking Bad.

No shop talk (the law and my future)

Dear Diary,

I won't talk about Hades (work), as it probably bores you as much as it does me.

I had only listened to a podcast of The Secret Barrister's Nothing But The Truth (an abridged narration, very abridged). However, yesterday, the book arrived. Aside from highlighting some very important points, mistakes she (or he?...) made and indeed well laid traps would be (potential) barristers may fall into, it is quite evident that this is an extremely 'nobby' occupation. I am again having second thoughts about the whole affair.

The thing is, I already had a good job in France: resident piano player at the Grand Hotel in Gerardmer (a ski resort in the mountains). The only reason I began studying in the first place was to prove to the late savant Didier Deman that the British won the Battle of Waterloo in 1815. I thought, perhaps, I could lecture in classical studies. But this isn't France: it's Dark Age Britain. Only nobby types that never did a day's work in their sorry ass lives get to study classics nowadays. (The government struck both classics and archaeology off the syllabus in 2016: the same year I graduated). Classical studies was the veritable cornerstone of university education ever since the late 13th century and the first great flowering of Higher Education (in places like Ravenna, Paris, Oxford and Cambridge). Everyone from Karl Marx, to Adam Smith, Carl Jung, John Stuart Mill, Charles Montesquieu and even Albert Venn Dicey all had a sound grounding in the classics (to name but a few...). In a single stroke, just one generation of austerity and public service cuts, the people that presume to rule over us destroyed a literary tradition harking back over 700 years, and even further than that (almost two thousand years) before universities became well established. This, is why it is the Dark Age, here, in Britain, today. Imagine a world without Adam Smith? It would not be the world which we know today.

Perhaps unsurprisingly, the reason I became a classicist (because Didier died in 2016, the same time I graduated) was to become a classicist. Not be bullied and pushed around by 18 year old tyrants for minimum wage in some dive of a fast food place (it cannot be called a 'restaurant' because legally, it is not a restaurant. There is no cutlery, no toilet, even: the people in this country are savages, and would do most anything to save a quick buck, even if it means eating with their bare hands and not having any sanitation, just like animals, or the brute beasts that are in charge there). I certainly didn't study classics to become a lawyer. If I study law, it is with the objective of becoming a lawyer. There is no other reason. Seeing as (in light of The Secret Barrister's works) that outcome is reduced to an extremely low order of probability, I have decided to not pursue yet a third degree, keeping me poor for yet another four years (the course fees are in excess of £1,600, and that's just for one module, never mind the many which are to follow). I cannot justify sinking yet more money (paid up front, I might add) into some qualification which will just leave me worse off than I already am. I already did that, I hold two degrees, and am still far worse off, now, than I was before I began studying. You see, I already had a good job, but then again, I wasn't in this country, which is fit only for beggars, slaves and animals (unless, of course, you happen to be a crook, most especially a crook in the City of London: a banker [Sorry, I didn't spell that correctly, it ought to be spelled prefixed with a 'w']).