Pick up any popular account of "sexy" physics and flick to the index: there you'll find the name John A(rchibald) Wheeler. Often they'll be dozens of references to him, but he's always mentioned at least once; and the same is true in serious physics textbooks, too. He was one of the Manhattan giants who took the physics of Einstein & co, and trasnformed it into its modern state, and his contributions can be seen in dozens of equations and theories, which will carry his name into the future far more indelibly than any headstone. But Wheeler was also a vivid, poetic physicist, as sexy as a black hole or a wormhole (both terms he coined), who inspired generations. He was the PhD supervisor who encouraged Hugh Everett to develop the "Many Worlds" view of Quantum Mechanics – without which science fiction writers would be rather short of plots. So his passing, aged 96, is as significant as a supernova inside the Milky Way; and, much like the death of Arthur C. Clarke, closes an era.

To each man shall his own free actions bring both his suffering and his good fortune. Jupiter is impartially king over all alike. The Fates will find the way.

—Virgil.

As regular readers of this blog well know, I have an attachment to truth and fairness. They're small things. But dear to me. So I refuse to give up on them easily – even for my friends. Which leads to weeks like last week. You see, Nhubi set the following question for Lin's quiz:

Question: Name this Roman god: One of the novensiles, the diversity of the attributes of this deity lead to the creation of at least three separate festival days in the Roman Calendar.

Answer:Veiovis

Now I didn't know the answer. And although I'm not participating, I was interested enough to research it, hoping to expand my knowledge, and give Nhub a pat on the back for devising such a cunning question. Only what slowly unravelled, cast the issue into shadow and then into darkness, before finally my head exploded. I now believe the correct answer could be found only be sheer luck. I've raised this issue via PM, but neither party are concerned, so I'm releasing my research so that people can make up their own minds. Novensiles I started by looking up novensiles. William Smith's 1890 A Dictionary of Greek and Roman Antiquities is widely available. And lets face it - the Romans have been dead a while, so bar the discovery of a new text—or a new version of an old text—it should be reliable. Smith says of Novensiles (or Novensides – a variant spelling) that:

"...these gods would be the opposite of Indigetes, or old native divinities; that is, the Novensides are the gods who are newly or recently introduced at Rome, after the conquest of some place."

(Smith cites Livy's prayer, which you can read here; that's the only primary source I've found referencing Novensiles) So is Veiovis a new god? Well Wikipedia equivocates about the above definition, discrediting it but retaining it – sorta. (No references though.) And you can kinda see what they're getting at. But in a PM to me, Nhub provides another definition of, believing a Novensile is "a god that throws lightning". On this front Smith bluntly disagrees, saying "this fact, though it may have applied to the Etruscan religion, nowhere appears in the religion of the Romans." Neither does Wikipedia support the notion of a Novensile as lightning throwing deity. And as Nhubi said to me, Etruscan is "foreign" – definitely not Roman. But even were Novensiles lighting throwing Gods, then Roman Poet Ovid (of whom more later) describes Veiovis as the exact opposite – saying look then on his hand, its holds no thunderbolts. So Veiovis is definitely not a Novensile as Nhubi meant it. In fact he many not even be one in the Roman sense, as the Wikipedia page on Dii Indigetes tentatively place him in this latter category. Certainly there's reasonable doubt. However its all positiviely transparent, compared with what's next. Three Festivals? So did Veiovis have three festivals? A simple enough question, you might think. Well the Encyclopedia Mythica gives Veiovis just one – part of a set of four, known as the the Agonalia. On Wikipedia's list of festivals Veiovis also only gets. However—inconsistently—the encyclopedia's entry on Veiovis does mention three, citing a footnote, added by a translator, that reference W. Warde Fowler's 1899 The Roman Festivals.ª It's this book that appears to be the source of all the claims for three Veiovis. But I can't see how Fowler substantiates it with a primary source. I'm not alone. As noted above, Wikipedia's list of festivals gives Veiovis one festival – despite citing Fowler. Perhaps it relies on evidence found its other reference – a 1981 text. I don't have access to that, so I can't say. That said, the only primary source I can locate is the Roman Poet Ovid. He wrote a multi-volume treaty on the Roman Gods and their feasts. He too give Veiovis only one festival. Unfortunately his 7th March date conflicts with the 21st May Date used everywhere else. And that was about where my head exploded. Conclusions Okay, so it's a mess. Of course, all ancient mythology is mucky and contradictory around the edges – partly because beliefs and dates change with time, and partly because they didn't have the internet keeping everyone in sync. But with Greek myths there's a vague consensus towards the centre. Roman Religion doesn't have that. Major deities (such as Quirinus) are only names. So it was always going to be a tricky, but Nhub seems to have found a particularly treacherous spot. My best efforts have located just one source alleging Veiovis had three festivals – everybody else thinks Veiovis had one. And there's absolutely no sources saying Veiovis was a novensile. Lin's happy that Nhubi's claims can be substantiated. However neither of them will divulge the source used, despite three requests to do so, preventing me reproducing her findings – a no-no to this scientist. But let's trust Lin*, and suppose the existence of a reference that is creditable and authoritative (i.e. not a Ladybird Book of Roman Deities, a World of Warcraft helpfile, a neopagan corruption of genuine Roman beliefs, or somebody's Dad) – unless you had access to Nhub's source, or through sheer luck hit the Fowler reference and overlooked the the novensile issue, then you weren't in with a chance of getting the right result; indeed some of the internet's most reputable sites rule out Veiovis as a candidate, while wikipedia is inconsistent. And that's really my point. Nhubi argues that because Lee got it, it must have been doable. But if I were to ask twenty people to guess a number between one and ten, then—by pure chance—some would pick the "right" number. (It was 3. Did you get it?) And that's what seems to have happened here: you've been asked to pick one, rather-short piece of string from out of very big tangled knot. So let me ask: did you get the right one? ª Here's a footnote in a different translation, which doesn't give any dates. * I challenged her over Poe, without checking detailed sources, and she turned out to be right. So this time I've learnt my lesson and grabbed authoritative and primary sources where I could find them.

More job hunting, Spod-style: An application form from the police came with a covering letter suggesting that email is more secure than postal mail. I challenged them on this (they're both equally insecure) and was told to write (via snail mail) to the Force Security Manager. "Do they not have an email address?", I asked. "All correspondence is to be sent via their postal address as previously given." they replied.

A job website I was signing-up for allows uploading of CVs. I didn't want to, but it made me. Only it wouldn't accept my CV, and while fixing that little problem I discovered the site does absolutely NO back-end validation whatsoever. :oops: So, thanks to a compliant browser, my downloadable “CV” is a .EXE-file. The one I've chosen goes “Boo!”, but it could equally have been a trojan or a virus. When will these buffoons learn? I'm grubbing around struggling to get an interview for a soul-destroying admin job, and these idiots are writing websites. Anyway, I've emailed them, pointing out the flaw, and offering my services as a security consultant. But like all messengers, I expect to be shot. *BOOM!* UPDATE: The sky has gone pink and I've just seen a Unicorn in the garden. So let me quote this response:

Thank you for informing us of these problems. I have passed this onto our technical department as a matter of urgency. I would hope they would get in touch with you shortly.

Although it now appears that that statement holds true only for sufficiently long values of "shortly".

As I mentioned in my last blog, the "axe" has fallen. My personal life will begin to rearrange itself at the end of the month, and no part of it will be left untouched: from the food I eat (there will be meals I never cook again) to the telly I watch.

I'm an unashamed Peter Pan who's done his best to refuse to grow up. But I've taken a sudden lurch towards decrepidtude. For a while I felt like Buffy: ripped out of paradise. I'm certainly going to be lonelier. And I'm even going to miss the things I disliked.

It was a tough weekend a fortnight ago; I lost sight of the horizon. But I've found a new one to lock onto: free time is the thing I value most – it enables me to continue to grow creatively, so I'm looking for part-time work that will cover my financial shortfall and give me time to play. It may be term-time work (teaching assistant or school administrator) or the time-off may be distributed more evenly throughout the year (non-school admin – 25 hours @ £8.50/hour); the latter is what I'd prefer, particularly if I can work a four-day week. Hopefully whatever I get won't be too demanding or draining or pressured so that I can continue with the stuff I love in the evenings and on my days off.

The worst bit is that I need a paycheck by the end of March, which is a nightmare. However my three A's at A-level plus my design skills (e.g. inset CV) should secure an interview, although I've had junk phonecalls so far. And with the school's entering half-term, I'll doubt I'll hear anything next week.

But as long I can get work, then its not all doom and gloom. Of necessity I will divest myself of those commitments I've accrued because I had the "free time" and felt obliged to use it constructively. Chores are going to have to be redistributed more equally, too – although that will necessitate some flaming rows.

And although I'm drifting at the moment, I'll hopefully end up more focused (ha!). My aim will be to finish Memento Mori by June, and then probably attempt a novel – a fun romp; I'm in the final stages of polishing a short story, so I'm feeling confident on that front, at least.

One of my weaknesses is abstract mathematics. I love it best when it describes Quantum Mechanics and General Relativity. But any of it can sucker me; I find it more addictive than most people find Sudoko.

So when I found a "little" problem* which involved some math on RentACoder, I made--and won--a bid. Mathematics, however, is littered with problems that appear simple but turn out to be rather complicated on detailed examination. (E.g. Fermat's Last Theorem.) And it was only as I had time to delve deeper that I discovered this was a tricky area requiring me to master a large, unfamiliar branch of mathematics (Linear Programming).

So I changed tactic. If you can't solve something exactly, you can often find a good approximation. (Like calling pi 22/7) So, thinking they were blind men looking for a one-eyed king, I proposed we "solve" their problem with an approximation. Only to discover they already had such a solution, and it didn't meet their needs. Nor were they interested in working with me to find a better, approximation. So it was suggested that if I couldn't fullfil, I should cancel.

But dammit, I had provided a solution - as required. I had never been anything but vague about my methodology, and they had never specified that such a solution would be unacceptable. The letter of the contract was complete. So I put our dispute into arbitration.

Suddenly it wasn't me staring down the barrel of a shotgun; they were the ones who might have to pay up and get nothing.

Fortunately the guy I was in dispute with was an Indian, and embodied everything that's great about his nation's character. He retained his cool and his sense of humour, admitted his own error with good grace, and before the moderator had had time to consider our case, he had offered a settlement - which I accepted, since I felt guilty about not having acheived what I'd intended. And furthermore I was unprepared to go through the additional stress and risk that formal arbitration might bring. We both got a note about self mediation in our file and I got a token sum ($50, less fees; which was 25% of the already ridiculously low price.) Oh and I acquired some more experience to life's rich jar. Still, at least I proved my wits are sharp.

But the axe has fallen and Monday or Tuesday, I'll start applying for real jobs.

* Supose a + b + c = 1, and 0 < a < b < c < 1, what's the chance c - a - b > 0? Now do that again using variables A through U.

Okay, this doesn't just take the biscuit – it flees to the hills with the tin, swiping a couple of unopened packets on route. I was searching the web for contract work to forestall me impending conversion into a shelf stacker (‘No, I'm not overqualified – the “with astronomy” part of my degree means I'm fully trained to work nights.’ ) And found some nice sites where you can bid for work – anything from writing books on tomatoes to writing font layout engines ($8,000 for that, so I'm seriously considering it). One juicy opportunity was on RentACoder. (BTW since when did a tatty, kitsch name become de rigueur?) The contract was to write a stand alone app that forwards email with attachments to a sysop before the user can download them. I have most of the code to do that sitting idle on my hard disk, and could tack it together in my sleep. So I signed up and put in a bid. Then I had to resubmit, because my price was too low. Yes, my price was too low. Then I had to complete additional registration, finally to be told to “bog off” because the buyer was “filtering out” programmers from “mature economies”. Okay, it said as much, if I'd bothered to read. But my noob mistake and waste of time isn't the what's narked me. Nor am I gonna disparage Third World programmers; the unceasing plague of viruses attest to their skills and ingenuity. But since when don’t I have a right to undercut them? It's just not fair! I'm really annoyed about this. This is supposed to be a knowledge-based capitalist global economy, and I want to use my knowledge to do it quicker and faster and cheaper! Oh and so some idiot is gonna get overcharged for a task that probably could have been done with a commercial package anyway. One word. Duh!

This is blog is just another piece of blatant self-promotion. But if you peek into my bedroom, you'll find its walls are plastered with artwork, so consider this post a scary peek into the scary things that my subconscious glimpses as it dreams. The excuse for providing this guided-tour of my wallpaper, is that the guy who gave me the spare monitor is moving; that's why he was ditching his kit. So to thank him (and since he knows I can cartoon), I felt I ought to produce one of my cards. The cover is below: A few years ago, I submitted a portfolio to a cartoon stock site. They thought my work lacked "punch" – although they hedged that opinion with caveats about how fickle a sense of humour can be. But you can see what they were getting at. For example, IIRC this was amongst those submitted: As with the opening toon, I have trouble distilling my wit into a single frame; at best I solict a wry smile. Here's some slightly later work where I've tried to be "punchier": Of course, cards afford a second frame, concealed inside. This was the surreal one used for the above card: [spoiler] [/spoiler] Rushed, as always – but with more work, it would have been a nice idea. Nevertheless, while time may not have finessed my gag-writing skills, my illustration workflow is unrecognisable. These days I use a cheap digital tablet to work over a scanned sketch, producing a result that's smoother than an A3 drawing. That said, I miss the capacity to ammend wet strokes, and the tactile quality of the ink on the page - the latter created channels that could trap coloured inks; while the brilliant, reflective shine of shellac in the Indian ink is unlike anything a laser- or inkjet printer can produce. Still it gets the job done. So over Friday evening and Saturday I produced an interior frame - et voila: With the deadline pressing down on me, I fudged it a bit. (That left shoe is appauling – but under the hammer I just couldn't get it right; of course, now I've doodled it flawlessly. :() Also Saturday morning brought bad news about my future financial position which made it tough to focus on drawing. :( I'll blog about that later; but don't worry too much, my feet are like Spiderman's - they'll walk on any solid. ;)

I've excised the scene below from my Doctor Who Fanfic Memento Mori. It was supposed to illustrate part of my exposition. And while the quality's okay; it's, well, rather clunky and a bit of an adjunct, so I've opted to replace it with a scene that snuggles more smoothly into the overall plot. However that means I can share this largely stand-alone, spoiler-free draft. Bring your own sofa. ;)

• 48. EXT. BRITISH VILLAGE (FLASHBACK)

  The British King CASSIVELLAUNUS and the druid EURYNOMOS (whose face is concealed under the cowl of his feathered robe) stand at the centre of a village of Celtic roundhouses. They are encompassed by an entourage of robed druids and blue-faced warriors (nothing extraterrestrial about the latter, they've just died their skin with woad). The villagers are sullenly awaiting an inspection, lined-up in front of their yurt-like dwellings.

  TREBONIUS (VOICE OVER) When other British tribes can be persuaded to talk about them, they speak in hushed tones, mentioning human sacrifice.

  Peculiarly, a rookery has annexed the thatched village; and dozens of these black crows are anxiously perched on the roundhouses' rooves - cawing, strutting, fighting, and flapping their wings.

  With a nod from Eurynomos, HEKATEE, whose face is covered in a scar, and two other ACOLYTE DRUIDS commence an inspection of the villagers. They pass the first family, ignoring the insolent glare of an old woman, who spits at their backs, and pace on, past two more families; and as they progress, past each house and each family, the agitation of the rooks increase - the crows fluttering between rooftops, and swelling the intensity of their raucous hissing.

  As the three druids reach the family of a BLACKSMITH, the BLACKSMITH'S WIFE yanks her eight-year old son into her skirts, and draws a glittering dagger. With fiery reproach pouring out her eyes, she makes a darting thrust towards HECKATEE.

  BLACKSMITH'S WIFE No! You're ain't 'avin' 'im! (She spits.) I'm not giving 'im up. I'm telling you, you ain't 'avin' 'im!

  With an imperceptible nod, Cassivellaunus dispatches three of his guards, who storm towards the woman.

  But Heckatee makes no move towards the woman or the boy, despite the sky-rocketing avian din. Instead she turns and looks at Eurynomos, who languishingly withdraws a pox-marked hand from his leather glove. Slowly, the chief druid extends his finger towards the Blacksmith himself, and beckons the man to "come hither". Adding with a hiss.

  EURONYMOS That meat!

  The blacksmith is easily the biggest man in the village - the frame of his skeleton struggling to accommodate his collection of bulging muscles; yet he is completely bedumbed by the request and collapses to his feet, wailing:

  BLACKSMITH No! No!

  His wife is so shocked she drops her knife and releases her hand from the shoulder of her son (he flees into his house). But the rooks bay like the crowd at the Circus Maximus calling for blood. And as the guards arrive—and press the blubbering blacksmith onto his knees—the birds take off, their wings wiping the screen black.

Okay, the replacement is certainly more fun, and probably scarier. And it exemplifies my biggest problem: getting soo bogged down in the grind of writing that the fun dries up. So to make up for that, here's the real deal - the non-excised working draft of the very first scene. Now this is threaded through with mischief. :D

• 1. INT. TARDIS – CONSOLE ROOM

  In the hemispherical chamber of the Tardis console room, an alarm is buzzing intermittently, like a drowning fly. MARTHA stands alone, agitatedly looking deeper into the Tardis's interior.

  MARTHA (Shouting) Doctor! Oy, Doctor!

  THE DOCTOR races in to the console room and skids to a stop. He points accusingly at Martha:

  DOCTOR (Impishly) That's the last time I let you play Tetris on the TARDIS console.

  Martha brings up her palms in defence.

  MARTHA I didn't touch a thing, I swear.

  The Doctor grins and slaps the ‘snooze’ button of a ‘radio alarm clock’ embedded in the Tardis console, silencing the buzzing.

  Slipping on his thick-framed black specs, the Doctor peers at the Tardis's VDU. Martha joins him, looking over his shoulder at the display's sequence of unintelligibly alien patterns.

  MARTHA (C'NTD) What's up?

And from there the action unfolds, rapidly, to a great pre-credit cliff-hanger and on to interesting adventures.

Suddenly the world went green. Specifically, the red gun on my monitor packed up. So now everything that's red (including my avvie) is black, and everything that should be yellow or brown is green - it's like looking at the world from the bottom of the ocean. :( Worse, last week I turned down the offer of an old monitor that was being chucked. So I've hastily emailed to see if that CRT is still available. Otherwise I'll ditch those X-rays faster than you can say Bremsstrahlung and raid my emergency savings for an LCD. Teach me to be optimistic. UPDATE 18:00: HaHaHah! :D I owe 2008 a big apology. I've just had a phone call and that monitor's still available. :D It didn't fit in the car when they went to the tip yesterday, so it's still waiting to be binned. How flukely is that? See, I told yer - 2008 is gonna be The One. ;)