There’s a new exhibition at the British Museum about the Scythian empire and its art. ‘The who?’, I hear you ask. I’m surprised you don’t have all the facts about the Scythians at your very fingertips. Forgive my flippancy but in the light of the current political temperature of the world, I have been thinking about the decline and fall of empires. The Scythians were the usual assortment of bloodthirsty, murderous lunatics characteristic of our fine human race, and they laid waste to much of Eastern Europe and parts of the Middle East, controlling huge swathes of land for nearly a millenium. Yes, they were fearsome warriors much given to drinking their enemies’ blood out of their skulls. And so on, and so forth. Yet here we are; the people who know anything concrete about the Scythians would probably not fill Wembley Arena today. Humbling, isn’t it? When I see our plutocrats and politicians huff and puff and threaten to blow the house down, I would whisper in their ears if I had the opportunity, ‘Ozymandias, king of kings. Look on my works ye mighty, and despair’.

The nations rage and kingdoms fall, and yet each little, insignificant, power-crazed popinjay thinks, ‘Me, and no other’. They actually seem to believe that they will be the first to buck the trend and rule with absolute power forever. It would be humorous if the idiots did not do so much harm in their quest for supremacy. The Roman Empire controlled pretty much the entire western world at one time or the other. If you had told Julius Caesar a couple of years before his death that his absolute stranglehold on his empire would be ended by 60 of his closest frenemies, would he have believed you? 20-odd stab wounds later, and it’s all change. Divine Caesar, wonder of wonders, is no more. But then, he never was; either divine or a wonder. The only thing that holds true is that those who live by the sword will die by the sword, as sure as eggs is eggs.

What remains of all the previous empires, from the long-forgotten Hittites, Girgashites, Perizzites to the Scythians, Etruscans, Spartans etc etc? Art. Sculptures, paintings, literature, and even all that will be dust one sad day. Of all the artworks shown in my pictures do you know which is the only one still being made? Yep, the bronzes from Ife and Benin in Nigeria. So everytime you come across one of these self-aggrandizing maniacs whether at the micro level in your family, your workplace or at the council, or at the macro level on the world stage, treat them like the emperors with no clothes that they are. Our only prayer ought to be that we be preserved from the consequences of their rage against humanity. More people will read 50 Shades of Grey this month than will read about Caesar’s Gallic Wars this decade. Yes, I know that is actually a very depressing thought in one way but from another perspective, it’s cheering. Warmongering destroyers of humanity should not be celebrated, irrespective of how ‘great’ a conqueror they may have been. They should not even be reviled as that makes them too important. They should be totally forgotten and their wretched graves unvisited. The blood of their brothers cry out from the ground. That is the ignominy they deserve. Actually, I have to confess to having a soft spot for Ole Julius, he was both clever and smart; I’m a sucker for brains and smarts, what can I tell you. If you’ve never read The Gallic Wars, you’re in for a treat; it’s fascinating. Here is a nonsense poem by Christopher Isherwood that will probably still be read after the fifth world war:

The Common Cormorant

The common cormorant (or shag)
Lays eggs inside a paper bag,
The reason you will see no doubt,
Is to keep the lightning out.

But what these unobservant birds
Have failed to notice is that herds
Of wandering bears may come with buns
And steal the bags to hold the crumbs.

Apropos nonsensical behaviour, have you seen the outfits of the new supercops who will save us all from the terrors of ISIS etc etc? Here is a picture for your delectation.

No laughing at the back. All I can say is that I hope all the terrorists are morbidly obese couch potatoes with secondary heart failure. With all the ridiculous gear they have strapped to them, even I could show these guys a clean pair of heels. If Olympic triathletes become terrorists, we’re all screwed. Just kidding; I feel much safer already, don’t you? Note to government – ideally we’d like you to catch the terrorists before they attack. And no, we do not want to be surveiled to death just to make it happen. Hands off our privacy, thank you very much. Seeing as it’s impossible to buy so much as a croissant without some information-gathering fascist recording it somewhere, perhaps you could try following the money. You have no trouble spying on your citizens so we can only assume that these terrorists are masters of subterfuge…….Seriously, no need to thank me. You can have that one for free. I intend to try and ignore the madness around me as much as I can, and get my stuff done. Fugit inreparabile tempus as said by no one at AlaraApothecary, ever 🙂 Have a safe week, one and all.

Photos: Ife Bronze; Benin Bronze; Scythian sculpture; Scythian sculpture; Etruscan pottery; Etruscan pottery.

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I’m back from a much-needed sojourn in La Bella Italia. The trip commenced with the 3am start of a 250 mile journey. Don’t ask. This is my idea of hell, not remotely being what you would call a morning person. By the time I arrived at Firenze, I was a complete zombie. Came out of the airport, 38 Celcius in the shade. Ay, Caramba!, as they do not say in Italy. I knew I was home when I dropped my hand luggage in my living-dead state and the driver said ‘Mama Mia!’ Pure awesomeness. This was in stark contrast to the airport in London. Yep, I fell foul of the Airport Nazi. How this country manages to produce so many pea-brained jobsworths, I cannot fathom. Put one of these eejits in a uniform and they believe they have the authority to waterboard you. This was the ghastly woman at security check; they keep ratcheting up their stupid rules to make our lives more difficult. First, no liquids over 100ml. Check. Then, suddenly only one tiny bag can be used. OK, check. Then, you must be able to seal the bag without it popping open so essentially the bag is max, 2/3 filled. At this point, I told her that wasn’t feasible as I needed my stuff and only had hand luggage. She told me if I didn’t agree to discard part of my carefully curated 100ml stuff, she would have to ‘tag my stuff. You’ll be here for an hour.’ I told her to do whatever she needed to do. She did not like that… Meanwhile, I checked my watch– flight take off in 50 minutes but I was so angry, I was thinking I’d buy another ticket if needed. Yes, I am crazy; I know it but I’ll never kowtow to these power-crazed fascists.

It is possible to do a job which I agree is necessary without being such a pisspoor example of a human being. She pretty much tagged everybody, the check took 40 minutes, and they made me throw away a 75ml tube of toothpaste, so you can all sleep safely in your beds, another terrorist threat averted. Jackasses. I made final boarding with 5 minutes to spare 🙂 The kicker? I studied chemistry for a solid 8 years. I wouldn’t need to smuggle chemicals past security if I wished to blow anything up, especially doors 🙂 . I can make a perfectly good explosive device using stuff from duty-free and the contents of the cleaner’s cart. And no, I wouldn’t need to make any dimwitted internet searches either, you’d never see me coming. The government can’t keep us safe unless all cars and vans are now confiscated, so implying that taking off my belt at the airport helps is an act of ridiculous posturing on their part. If most of us don’t go around blowing people up, it’s because we know right from wrong, and personally, I believe I will answer for my actions after I shuffle this mortal coil. Civic irresponsibilty and psychotic behaviour cannot be regulated by criminalising the entire population. Any determined murderer will find a way round the rules, especially if they don’t mind dying in the attempt. That is a much more serious problem to address, hence the headless chicken acts of our governments.

Anyhoo, Firenze was as lovely as ever. I realised that I feel so much at home there because the sunlight is like African light. As soon as I clocked that gorgeous, golden light that pours out like syrup and coats everything with an amber tint, I forgot all about the airport nazi. But yikes, it was HOT! Even a heat-lover like myself started wilting at the edges rapidly. Luckily, there is a cure – copious amounts of gelato and lashings of Schweppes Pompelmo. I put on 10 kilos in 2 days; thank God the airline doesn’t weigh us on the way back from holiday or my excess baggage charge would have been through the roof 🙂 More to follow on Italy. In the meantime, I pray for protection for us all from all the loonies out there, ideological or otherwise, and wish you a safe, warm weekend full of golden light. Yes, even you, Airport Nazi.