The debonair Basil Marigold's

In 411bc. Athens and Sparta were engaged in the greatest Greek war of the classical age; the Peloponnesian war. It had begun 20 yrs previously and the superpowers of the Greek world fought for hegemony. For ease, split geographically; Athens, the democracy, who after the Persian Wars (Ta Medika), had almost accidentally found itself as head of the Delian League of Greek allies that swiftly transformed itself into a loose Athenain Empire, controlled by the efficient and competent, Athenian Navy. Sparta, however, as head of the Peloponnesian league, with their strange dual kingship, had become invincible on land due to their professional army. An entire nation trained in marshal ways from birth. A state of army. Two nations and two different military strengths. The main reason why the war, by 411bc had lasted so long was with neither side willing to engage the other outside of their strength then the neither side could land a knock out blow. War and skirmishes continued and spread thr

Being of an age, my music tastes were formed at times, by music far older than I am. It was a time when bands, put about as much effort into the album covers as they did the music that lay behind them. Usually Vinyl record sleeves which became a form of art themselves. Their are those that hang their album artwork, as artwork, independent of the music.  One of the greatest proponents of Album artwork, was, The Pink Floyd. The music needed to be complimented by the vision of the band. Yesterday, the news reported the death of an artist, not a musician. Yet, this artist's death was reported by Pink Floyd's publicists because the artist had become so associated with the band that it seemed unsurprising that this happened. The artist was called, Storm Thorgerson . He was 69 and he had helped create the 'Image' of Pink Floyd, from the early 70's all the way through to the mid 90's. Without this connection then certainly my perception of Pink Floyd would be differ

I discussed, prior to going to the tramway museum as my early birthday treat (the Ipad mini being deemed to extravagant by my wife), with my mother as to the last time that I went to Crich Tramway museum. Dredging our combined memory we believed that it was when I came up for my annual 2 week holiday to Annesley Woodhouse, when I lived in Devon. Our best guess was that my grandparents took me and my sister and this would have been when I was around 12 years old, which was about 25 years ago. heading back from the small mining display, end of the line It has been quite a while and I have to admit I struggled to recall there being much there apart from one tramline and a tea shop. To be fair to Crich, this is still pretty much the focus of the site. A tramline and two trams running up and down it. As shown here, up and down the track; looking down into the main terminus where  tram sheds are Everything is pretty well off these central tracks. The only thing that is a little o

One of the most moving news stories today, will, sadly pass unnoticed below the radar of many people today. It is this story from the BBC about the author, Iain Banks.  It is a sad tale in itself from the human perspective. How does anybody, when confronted by their certain death, cope? least of all someone who has a 'celebrity' image, in a certain circle, at least. Not in the Cheryl Cole, vacuous way. But in the downright absurdly talented way. I have been a fan of Iain Banks, since I read one of his earlier novels, the Wasp Factory . And I would heartily recommend it to all. As one of my friends has pointed out, in places, it is a mighty tough read. However, it was his alter ego that drew me closer to his works. Iain M Banks, (the additional 'M', from the middle name, Menzies, his parents wanted to give to him but in error didn't register at his birth) science fiction writer. In fact, his science fiction to me is perhaps the most startling, original and ope