We won both our games this weekend... against all our best efforts... because... honestly... we did everything we could possibly do to lose.. and thankfully somehow our strategy backfired...
Thursday was 7-6 after being down 2-0, 4-2 and 5-3 respectively. Most of their goals were scored in one of two ways... rushes and powerplays... frustrating since there seems to be a common goals against theme in most all our losses... no third man high in the O-zone... never practice pk... a good recipe for goals against...
When we finally got ahead 6 to 5 we resorted back to playing our usual strategy of panicking with the lead.. our D backing way off the blueline.. never pinching... our forwards dumping the puck.. afraid to hold it... and our D-zone a combination of clutch-and-grab and running around with our heads cut off... it worked out pretty much as usual and they tied it on a power play... only to have us come right back and score the go ahead... only to have them come back and ALMOST score twice in the last minute... but only ALMOST... so we won... at home.. in regulation... a first!
And Saturday was another first as we got the first goal and even turned it into a multi-goal lead... We were up 3-0 going into the third when the ref decided to take the game into his hands and gave Asiago back to back 5 on 3's... suddenly the game was 3-2... then 4-2 on a low blocker shot from outside... When 4-2 happened we decided one more time to let the panick set in... and fatigue on account of playing solely our first line and nobody else for the last 10 minutes of the game... and 4-3 on a pulled goalie... and then 5-3 on a pulled goalie... and a 5 hour bus trip home to get home by 4 and up at 11 AM for our team rope bridge function... yay...
Sunday, November 23, 2008
Team Building
Our day off today became team building experience #1 for the year. Which although a good thing... is usually done at the start of the year... you know... to build some trust... communication... teamwork... all those good things before games become serious... and trust vital...
... psychology says that going through shared trial... as long as everyone acts the man... is the best and only real way to build comradery... but as far as it goes.. I'm not too picky... I'll take anything...
We went to a rope course and in teams of 3 we all got through the course in less than 3 hours... One guy on the course, one belayer, and one guy standing, watching, freezing, and making sure nothing goes wrong... trash-talking... waiting... throwing pinecones at the climbers...
Danelle and I missed out on a date-day, but she was sick today so we had to make it up anyways at a later date...
... psychology says that going through shared trial... as long as everyone acts the man... is the best and only real way to build comradery... but as far as it goes.. I'm not too picky... I'll take anything...
We went to a rope course and in teams of 3 we all got through the course in less than 3 hours... One guy on the course, one belayer, and one guy standing, watching, freezing, and making sure nothing goes wrong... trash-talking... waiting... throwing pinecones at the climbers...
Danelle and I missed out on a date-day, but she was sick today so we had to make it up anyways at a later date...
Friday, November 14, 2008
Holding Grudges
I just finished reading a book on the holocaust and... it's pretty shattering... hard to leave a book like that and look at the world the same way... Or people in the same way... again ever... and I really don't know what I would think if I was actually standing in the midst of a concentration camp...
(... the writer actually suggests that any person in power be required to walk through a camp to remind themselves of the abuse of power and the effort required to stop it... and also remind them of the reality of human nature... despot, maniac, and '...just following orders'...)
... The death toll of the holocaust is so great that story can almost leave the realm of emotion and instead merely become a statistic... but for a dedicated mass of survivors who lived the rest of their lives to ensure that the holocaust could never become just... a statistic... Who gathered together... overcame their loss... and published real love and shocking horror... and through their work made the world meet each person face to face... make each trial a personal story...
... The most striking thing of the whole book is the amount of survivors that could simply not get over their experience... who years later would end up taking their lives because of the memory, of the grief, and the sadness of their story... maybe because they could not find a listening ear or a wounded heart that could truly understand what they went through and meet them on their level... maybe it was loneliness...
...But for others it seemed like it was their unwillingness to forgive... their need to hold on to that hate and remember it because it aided them in their search for justice... a righteous cause that needed to be fought for... They pursued their captors and in a combination of justice and revenge paid one evil with another... they could and would not get rid of their hate and eventually their hate consumed them...
... And then there was a third kind of person... Like the story of Corrie Ten Boom who watched her sister die in a camp... .. ... and yet went back to Germany after the war to offer forgiveness to the German people and help rebuild the country... One day even coming face to face with the worst, most evil, vicious, sadistic guard in her camp... and through tears in her eyes and fighting off her shaking hand she offered forgiveness even to him... and maybe... hopefully... she was able to truly overcome the hurt done to her...
... His argument (and I completely agree) is that forgiving someone, although doing nothing to mend anything that has been done or will be done, will free you from the power an abuser had over you... (Even years later it will hold you back in life if you don't deal with it)... It gives you a chance to let it go and find closure... even if they don't ask forgiveness... it's a chance to start over and live your life finally out of the shadow, free of the chains, of whatever or whoever has hurt you... like the original meaning of 'forgiveness'... to send away...
(... the writer actually suggests that any person in power be required to walk through a camp to remind themselves of the abuse of power and the effort required to stop it... and also remind them of the reality of human nature... despot, maniac, and '...just following orders'...)
... The death toll of the holocaust is so great that story can almost leave the realm of emotion and instead merely become a statistic... but for a dedicated mass of survivors who lived the rest of their lives to ensure that the holocaust could never become just... a statistic... Who gathered together... overcame their loss... and published real love and shocking horror... and through their work made the world meet each person face to face... make each trial a personal story...
... The most striking thing of the whole book is the amount of survivors that could simply not get over their experience... who years later would end up taking their lives because of the memory, of the grief, and the sadness of their story... maybe because they could not find a listening ear or a wounded heart that could truly understand what they went through and meet them on their level... maybe it was loneliness...
...But for others it seemed like it was their unwillingness to forgive... their need to hold on to that hate and remember it because it aided them in their search for justice... a righteous cause that needed to be fought for... They pursued their captors and in a combination of justice and revenge paid one evil with another... they could and would not get rid of their hate and eventually their hate consumed them...
... And then there was a third kind of person... Like the story of Corrie Ten Boom who watched her sister die in a camp... .. ... and yet went back to Germany after the war to offer forgiveness to the German people and help rebuild the country... One day even coming face to face with the worst, most evil, vicious, sadistic guard in her camp... and through tears in her eyes and fighting off her shaking hand she offered forgiveness even to him... and maybe... hopefully... she was able to truly overcome the hurt done to her...
... His argument (and I completely agree) is that forgiving someone, although doing nothing to mend anything that has been done or will be done, will free you from the power an abuser had over you... (Even years later it will hold you back in life if you don't deal with it)... It gives you a chance to let it go and find closure... even if they don't ask forgiveness... it's a chance to start over and live your life finally out of the shadow, free of the chains, of whatever or whoever has hurt you... like the original meaning of 'forgiveness'... to send away...
Wednesday, November 12, 2008
Just like you
For various reasons... namely a book I'm reading, an email I received, everything on the news, and rumours about a total collapse of the world economy... my mind is bent on trouble. Is Western Civilization doomed? Are resources turning scarce? Will the war get bigger? What if inflation sky-rockets? What am I doing playing hockey in the middle of all this!? But because of this random book I'm reading my focus is on (in my biased opinion) the scariest, most sinister, and definitely most direct question of them all for me is... can I trust my neighbor?
Would I place myself at the mercy of a complete stranger? No... but neighbor? ... well... NO... I'm not sure if it's CSI episodes or what, but I'm slanted to the distrust side right from the start... a kind of 'plan for the worst, hope for the best' mentality... don't get me wrong... commonality is the most amazing thing when you find it... like.. yay diversity and all... but this same diversity has begun to show an ugly side... where suddenly we wake up to find we have very little in common with others and a whole lot more not in common...
And I think it translates into growing isolation and distrust towards others around us... between groups of people... between one person and another... and we see it everyday in fenced communities, 24/7 security guards, cameras on every street corner, metal detectors... This is no longer the kind of Ivory Tower Real World LA diversity where everyone learns from each other and we are thus all enriched in some amazing 'live and let live' utopia... This is becoming a complete rift where 'either we become them or they become us'... where we don't trust the inside of people around us so we're forced to control them on the outside... where Christians control actions... Atheists control speech... Courts set precedent... jails are overcrowded... and politics has moved from dissent to disdain... this is a little more than 'good fences make good neighbours'... this is an are we even neighbours at all?... It's no longer a melting pot but a very eclectic meat and vegetable soup... and chances are not everyone even got in the bowl in the first place... ... ... ?... ... ... ummmm... okay but for real... What exactly ties us together anymore...? American Idol?
Would I place myself at the mercy of a complete stranger? No... but neighbor? ... well... NO... I'm not sure if it's CSI episodes or what, but I'm slanted to the distrust side right from the start... a kind of 'plan for the worst, hope for the best' mentality... don't get me wrong... commonality is the most amazing thing when you find it... like.. yay diversity and all... but this same diversity has begun to show an ugly side... where suddenly we wake up to find we have very little in common with others and a whole lot more not in common...
And I think it translates into growing isolation and distrust towards others around us... between groups of people... between one person and another... and we see it everyday in fenced communities, 24/7 security guards, cameras on every street corner, metal detectors... This is no longer the kind of Ivory Tower Real World LA diversity where everyone learns from each other and we are thus all enriched in some amazing 'live and let live' utopia... This is becoming a complete rift where 'either we become them or they become us'... where we don't trust the inside of people around us so we're forced to control them on the outside... where Christians control actions... Atheists control speech... Courts set precedent... jails are overcrowded... and politics has moved from dissent to disdain... this is a little more than 'good fences make good neighbours'... this is an are we even neighbours at all?... It's no longer a melting pot but a very eclectic meat and vegetable soup... and chances are not everyone even got in the bowl in the first place... ... ... ?... ... ... ummmm... okay but for real... What exactly ties us together anymore...? American Idol?
Thursday, November 6, 2008
Everything Else
After doing everything we were supposed to do Sunday, and seeing everything we were supposed to see Monday.. Tuesday actually felt like a vacation... We walked around the city at our own pace... if we saw a shop we liked (Danelle), we tried on the shoes... if we saw a gelato shop we liked (Me), we sampled the Straccatella... when we were tired we rested with Cappucinos and Croissants... when we were hungry we ate toasted Paninis and an ice cold coca-cola from the street vendors... when it looked like rain we added in saying 'no thankyou' on every street corner to some new guy selling the same 3 Euro umbrella's... When it did start to rain it was just in time for supper and we sat inside with pizza and wine and watched why Rome was famous for its storms... and why they would fear Zeus so much back in the day... I found out that my so-called Gucci knock off leather jacket was, in fact, truly a Gucci knock-off leather jacket.. and 2000 Euros less than the real one... Danelle found out that Jimmy Choo stores did, in fact, exist somewhere in the world and that they really were, in fact, that expensive... We both found out that a knock off Gucci leather jacket and a knock-off Prada purse didn't, in fact, gain you any friends in the most expensive shopping area of Rome... It was an 8 hour day of real live actual vacation.. if you traced our steps... from St Maria's church, to Victor Emmanuel's monument, to the river, to the Bocca del Verita (the Mouth of Truth), to the circus Maximus, to St Paul's church, to the Piazza de Trinita, to Augusto's Mausuleum, to the Piazza del Popo... you would, in fact, see we were literally walking in circles..
Wednesday, November 5, 2008
The Vatican
Documents held by the vatican, shown to everyone who mattered, were convincing proof... before heading east Constantine had given the lands around Rome to the Pope.. as his own and govern and rule.. these documents were later proven to be a 7th century forgery... (the latin far too advanced for it's time)... this didn't stop the pope from acting like it was true then, and doesn't change the fact that we still act like it was true now... for as everyone knows, a lie, if told enough times and if it's loud enough, will actually become true.. at least in the arena of public opinion... and that's really all that matters... so even today the vatican remains a country all it's own... with it's own guards and military system... the rest of its holdings graciously donated to the Roman people... in return for money, power, and, more importantly... never having to pay taxes again... ever...
... not a bad bit of forgery...
... This is just the start... The money and holdings, unknown and unchecked... the secret archives, unknown and unseen... all hush hush in the strictest sense... and as of yet no building number 7 of the world trade center to fall unexpectedly for no reason as if it, too, was hit by a plane and bury it's secrets (FBI)...
... But I have no resentment to the great beast I see in front of me... because slowly... laborously... the beast crawled its way back out of the middle ages and eventually embraced the reformation... and is even beginning to act a little bit more how it was always supposed to act... it's not that scary of a beast anymore... if a beast at all... the only real fear one can have in this place is the great Shusher of the Sistine chapel to anyone speaking just a bit too loud... 
...But I'm also interested in secrets... I just am... when the Papacy became a gift to go to the rich and powerful... a position held to control and sway the masses... when the Pope himself no longer believed in life after death... it's curious to know what extremes happened behind these walls... 'power corrupts, abstolute power corrupts absolutely'... and there's so many bad popes, really bad popes, that... if these walls could only play full length recorded DVD movies... a pope who ran a brothel in his courtyard, charging 30,000.. and right outside confession booths, charging 10,000... another pope when questioned about his tactics of torture and excommunication saying straight faced, 'I'm the pope, I can do anything, anything...' sex, lies, intrigue... we know... those are the ones they can share with us... so which are the ones they can't share... thank goodness for the reformation...
... St Peter's Basilica, the Sistine Chapel, all marvels... the whole place is like the Louvre, with a thousand little stories in its art and within its walls.. only its different, it's grander but still, somehow, less beautiful, and with not as good an audio tour...
Rome
Saturday
We have a 1:07 AM departure from Bolzano (an hour and a half away on Danelle speed) with a straight shot to Rome...
...Best case scenario we play a game with few penalties, no off-sides, a lack of icings, and win in regulation.. we celebrate (YAY!), get outta dodge, autobahn the heck out of our car, find my coaches shop, park, walk to the train station, shutter down, and 8:34 AM we're in Rome...
... Worst case scenario is a knock-down, drag-out rumble on the ice where they score in the last minute of the game and take it through overtime into penalty shots.. and... ... sudden death penalty shots.. and then we lose when the puck catches some snow and my shot sails over the wide open glove hand of the goalie and I skate into the corner heading back to our bench trying to dodge the Fassa players that are jumping over their bench to congratulate their goalie... (although I did score in the first best of 5)... ... ... since we lose the game we have to go through the draining task of figuring out what to say... finding something to yell about... who to blame... and how to rebound... (I've never been a fan of this personally because all the emotions of either a win or a loss will cloud the reason... too harsh a critic or too lenient a well-wisher... but it happens)
... ... ...
... so off the ice at 11:07... shower... ready... go... drive... what turn?... we're not lost... around the prostitute laden streets Bolzano... no... no... the other way... turn around right here... back this way... okay... now a right here... do you see it anywhere?... what!? no! don't ask them for directions!?... ... ... ahhh... go around again... ... ... it should be right here... ... ... I'm gonna get out and walk down this way to see where it goes... ... ... ... ... ... okay... found it... just back here... how much time do we have... can we make it?... hope so...
... ... ...
... oh no! I forgot the waters I bought... oh no!! I forgot our change purse with all our money... oh no!!! I forgot the lunch we mad for the train... oh no!!!! where's my glove?.. oh.. here it is.. good... that was lucky...
... ... ...
... these seats are not at all comfortable... I can't get comfortable... are you comfortable?... zzzzZZZZZZZzzzz
Sunday
8:37 AM... Honestly, sadly, I think we both had our best sleep in weeks... even though our lower backs were sore and neither of us could look left... this says less about the seats on the train and a whole awful lot about our bed back home... A non-important looking and yet seriously important acting man with a badge reading 'hotels' (possibly drawn in crayon) and a nothing-written-on-it clip-board (but somehow gives him more credibility anyways) says he has a hotel for us... 60 Euros... follow him... ... ... should we?... probably not... why are you following!?... Brendan! I am never doing this again!...
... it was an unmarked hotel that didn't have a sign and was possibly a converted apartment... but it was a hotel room with a nice bed, a hot shower, a fridge, and a free breakfast.. it was 20 euros cheaper than anything else we found when we did shop 2 nights later... and got us into the city faster... so maybe we will do it again... (Gaia was the name of the hotel.. they served chocolate crepes for breakfast... and it was warm enough to have our window open... if anyone was wondering...)
...
... our plan was haphazard at best... we had a map that provided no identifiable strategy on how to tackle the city... no real route to take as far as we could tell... there's just things... everywhere... things everywhere... and all you can do is walk in circles and see what you can see... but first things first... the business of sightseeing... do what you simply must do... the Colliseum...
... the walk down to the Colliseum revealed the three main themes that would stay with us for the rest of our trip... tourist shops... graffiti... and garbage... the city is a big, dirty, ugly, touristy mess... (I was later to discover in my book on Rome that 2 of these things have been in Rome since its conception... first garbage... garbage in, garbage in.. stay garbage stay... people would throw garbage on the ground while leaning against a garbage can... and second graffiti... unwashed... unpainted... written on the walls of buildings, in the past even tombs, as political messages either for WHO to vote for, or once voted in, WHAT to vote for...
... but really
... It's just a vibe that the city gives out... Paris is glitz, order, clean, glamour, beauty, life... and it breathes life... it's a walk in the clouds... Rome, in contrast, though grander and older... is run down, dirty, grey, and falling into ruins... still strong... competitive... but confused... it resurrects a monster of history... halfway out of the grave... with one foot in and one foot out... squalor mixed with modernity... and every once in a while a blending of the two shows a glimpse of... something... inside... like a grey church of Maria opening up to reveal marble pillars, frescoes, and a magnificent gold inlay... fitting that it shows inner beauty and strength, actually, as above all Roman's valued morality, character, and strength...
... and out of the mess rises the Colloseum...
... Imagine... as hard as you can... entering the Coliseum... as free, to win glory and applause... as Christian, food for lions... as slave, to win freedom... as fan, to see... to make you strong... a testament to the glory of Rome... the struggle of life in competition... it's founding value... it has made the people of the city strong for nearly 500 years... built by 20,000 Jewish slaves (making it today anti-semetic to walk through it's commemorating arch)... Can you imagine?... the roar... the enemy... his eyes... and behind the doors of death... how would you meet them?...
We have a 1:07 AM departure from Bolzano (an hour and a half away on Danelle speed) with a straight shot to Rome...
...Best case scenario we play a game with few penalties, no off-sides, a lack of icings, and win in regulation.. we celebrate (YAY!), get outta dodge, autobahn the heck out of our car, find my coaches shop, park, walk to the train station, shutter down, and 8:34 AM we're in Rome...
... Worst case scenario is a knock-down, drag-out rumble on the ice where they score in the last minute of the game and take it through overtime into penalty shots.. and... ... sudden death penalty shots.. and then we lose when the puck catches some snow and my shot sails over the wide open glove hand of the goalie and I skate into the corner heading back to our bench trying to dodge the Fassa players that are jumping over their bench to congratulate their goalie... (although I did score in the first best of 5)... ... ... since we lose the game we have to go through the draining task of figuring out what to say... finding something to yell about... who to blame... and how to rebound... (I've never been a fan of this personally because all the emotions of either a win or a loss will cloud the reason... too harsh a critic or too lenient a well-wisher... but it happens)
... ... ...
... so off the ice at 11:07... shower... ready... go... drive... what turn?... we're not lost... around the prostitute laden streets Bolzano... no... no... the other way... turn around right here... back this way... okay... now a right here... do you see it anywhere?... what!? no! don't ask them for directions!?... ... ... ahhh... go around again... ... ... it should be right here... ... ... I'm gonna get out and walk down this way to see where it goes... ... ... ... ... ... okay... found it... just back here... how much time do we have... can we make it?... hope so...
... ... ...
... oh no! I forgot the waters I bought... oh no!! I forgot our change purse with all our money... oh no!!! I forgot the lunch we mad for the train... oh no!!!! where's my glove?.. oh.. here it is.. good... that was lucky...
... ... ...
... these seats are not at all comfortable... I can't get comfortable... are you comfortable?... zzzzZZZZZZZzzzz
Sunday
8:37 AM... Honestly, sadly, I think we both had our best sleep in weeks... even though our lower backs were sore and neither of us could look left... this says less about the seats on the train and a whole awful lot about our bed back home... A non-important looking and yet seriously important acting man with a badge reading 'hotels' (possibly drawn in crayon) and a nothing-written-on-it clip-board (but somehow gives him more credibility anyways) says he has a hotel for us... 60 Euros... follow him... ... ... should we?... probably not... why are you following!?... Brendan! I am never doing this again!...
... it was an unmarked hotel that didn't have a sign and was possibly a converted apartment... but it was a hotel room with a nice bed, a hot shower, a fridge, and a free breakfast.. it was 20 euros cheaper than anything else we found when we did shop 2 nights later... and got us into the city faster... so maybe we will do it again... (Gaia was the name of the hotel.. they served chocolate crepes for breakfast... and it was warm enough to have our window open... if anyone was wondering...)
...
... our plan was haphazard at best... we had a map that provided no identifiable strategy on how to tackle the city... no real route to take as far as we could tell... there's just things... everywhere... things everywhere... and all you can do is walk in circles and see what you can see... but first things first... the business of sightseeing... do what you simply must do... the Colliseum...
... the walk down to the Colliseum revealed the three main themes that would stay with us for the rest of our trip... tourist shops... graffiti... and garbage... the city is a big, dirty, ugly, touristy mess... (I was later to discover in my book on Rome that 2 of these things have been in Rome since its conception... first garbage... garbage in, garbage in.. stay garbage stay... people would throw garbage on the ground while leaning against a garbage can... and second graffiti... unwashed... unpainted... written on the walls of buildings, in the past even tombs, as political messages either for WHO to vote for, or once voted in, WHAT to vote for...
... but really
... It's just a vibe that the city gives out... Paris is glitz, order, clean, glamour, beauty, life... and it breathes life... it's a walk in the clouds... Rome, in contrast, though grander and older... is run down, dirty, grey, and falling into ruins... still strong... competitive... but confused... it resurrects a monster of history... halfway out of the grave... with one foot in and one foot out... squalor mixed with modernity... and every once in a while a blending of the two shows a glimpse of... something... inside... like a grey church of Maria opening up to reveal marble pillars, frescoes, and a magnificent gold inlay... fitting that it shows inner beauty and strength, actually, as above all Roman's valued morality, character, and strength...
... and out of the mess rises the Colloseum...
... Imagine... as hard as you can... entering the Coliseum... as free, to win glory and applause... as Christian, food for lions... as slave, to win freedom... as fan, to see... to make you strong... a testament to the glory of Rome... the struggle of life in competition... it's founding value... it has made the people of the city strong for nearly 500 years... built by 20,000 Jewish slaves (making it today anti-semetic to walk through it's commemorating arch)... Can you imagine?... the roar... the enemy... his eyes... and behind the doors of death... how would you meet them?...
... It's now sacred from all the martyr deaths on the Coliseum floor... and just up the hill the Necropolis of Nero where Christians were burned alive as torches to light his banquet feasts...
... Christians had a very hard time of it in the beginning years... and surprisingly... the Romans were not really opposed to new religions, and added a few on every so often in order to appease a god they might never have known needed it... but I guess Christians were different on exclusivity and in values... Romans valued strength and beauty... Christians valued the meek... Romans worshipped all gods... Christians opposed all but one... they flew in the face of Rome... like St Lawrence when Emperor Valerian told him to bring him the greatest treasure of their church... in response St Lawrence gathered together all of the downtrodden and 'meek' and brought them to the Emperor... not seeing the joke the Emperor determined to show that there was nothing to this new religion Christianity... he put St Lawrence on a skewer and had him slowly turned over a grill... released if only he would revoke his God... the crowd gathered as carrions ready for fodder... instead, St Lawrence used the opportunity to preach to the gathered crowd... 'Tonight' he said 'I will be with my savior in heaven.'... so struck was the crowd that they started to question if there might be something to this one God that a man was willing to die for... they wouldn't die for any of their 300... 4 hours into it Valerian himself came to Lawrence's side and asked once more if he had enough... St Lawrence's responded, "I think I'm done on this side, could you turn me over...?" to which he was turned over and died choking on the fumes...
... Next to the Coliseum.. the Palatine.. hill of Romulus... where 12 vultures flew overhead.. as opposed to only the 6 that flew over the Aventine hill where his brother Remus stood... signifying that Romulus was the one who would found the great city the oracle foretold... the true brother... made especially true after Romulus killed Remus in an argument... thus the Palatine hill... reserved for the most wealthy of Romans citizens... A mile square palace with an indoor 'bath-tub' large enough to hold mock naval battles... an aqueduct that brought water all the way from the surrounding mountains... a 300 couch dining room for all those Romans that ate lying on their sides... and a 12 person public toilette complete with a sponge on the end of a stick for the afterparty... very likely the origin of the phrase 'getting the wrong end of the stick'... and in between the Palatine and the Aventine the Roman forum where all business was conducted...
... Here where the senate of great men shared power for half a century... tearing down those that got too big... where Gaius Gracchus (Gladiator) was killed for catering too much to the mob... where Sulla, with too much power, enacted laws where another like himself could never be created and then stepped down... and where the triumvirate of Pompey, Crassus, and Caesar rose to power... lords among men... and destroyed the republic...
... Far side of the Palatine hill is the Capitaline hill and the Victor Emmanuel Monument... the Monument holding it's own grave to an unknown soldier... like France... once more presenting the power of a democracy... and the Capitaline museum... showing a statue of Romulus and Remus being suckled by a she-wolf... the legend hangs on one word... the word for wolf... 'Lupi'... was the same word used for prostitute... so it's possible these brothers had a much different mother than legend...
... And croissants on the roof overlooking the entirety of ancient Rome... their history, supposedly, as a tool of war... when the Muslims invaded Spain, the Polish monarch had his men make bread in the shape of their enemies flag and eat it... overcoming their fear and allowing them the chance for victory...
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