The Roman Wall

Here is Hadrian's Wall at Housteads. In '98 I walked the Wall with Stan and Sonnet while Silver smacked the damn thing before returning to the car. She was well satisfied, I do recall.

Hadrian's Wall was built following a visit by Hadrian 122 at a time when he was having military difficulties in Romain Britain and from the peoples of various conquered lands across the Empire. However the construction of such an impressive wall was probably also a symbol of Roman power, both in occupied Britain and in Rome. Construction probably started in 122 and completed within six years. The route chosen parallels Stanegate road from Carlisle to Corbridge which was already defended by a system of forts, and was constructed to prevent entrance by small bands of raiders or unwanted immigration from the north, not as a fighting line for a major invasion.

The initial plan called for a ditch and wall with eighty small gated milecastle fortlets, one placed every Roman mile, holding a few dozen troops each, and pairs of evenly spaced intermediate turrets used for observation and signalling. Local limestone was used in the construction while the milecastles from timber and earth; turrets were always made from stone. Construction was divided into lengths of about 8 Km. One group of each legion would excavate the foundations and build the milecastles and turrets and then other cohorts would follow with the wall construction.

Early in its construction, just after reaching the North Tyne, the width of the wall was narrowed to 2.5 metres or even less. Within a few years it was decided to add a total of 14 to 17 full-sized forts along the length of the wall, including Houseteads, holding between 500 and 1,000 auxiliary troops. Some of the larger forts along the wall were built on top of the footings of milecastles or turrets, showing the change of plan.

After the forts had been added the Vallum was built on the southern side. It consisted of a large, flat-bottomed ditch six metres wide at the top and three metres deep bounded by a berm on each side 10 metres wide. Beyond the berms were earth banks six metres wide and two metres high. Causeways crossed the ditch at regular intervals. Initially the berm appears to have been the main route for transportation along the wall.

Abbreviated notes from Wikipedia.

PS: the Wall is 80 Roman miles or 117 kilometres long.

Preggers

Britain has the highest teen pregnancy in Europe - 4% of under-18s, or >50,000. Subsequently it is announced today that sexual education will be compulsory in England's state primary and secondary schools. Returning from my morning swim, I listen to Radio 4's John Humphrys interview Kevin Ward, headmaster of the Holmleigh Primary School in Hackney. The exchange, heard by >4 million, was classically awkward in a British sort of way: Humphrys trying to get Ward to say, exactly, what is said in the classroom and Ward simply unable to say "penis" or "vagina" for the children's "naughty bits." Ward actually comes across quite reasonably noting that the teachers may respond to the children's questions about their "differences, including 'down there' " if part of a natural course of discussion. From there, Humphreys probes birth control (pronouncing, in Queen's English, "cun-duhms") and I learn that children do not get protections-training until Year 6 or about age 11, though Ward notes that the girls "may well be into their changes before then."

Teen pregnancy and STDs are obviously a problem here+fueled by drinks where Britain ranks at the very top of Europe's worst offenders. Surprise surprise. At least our government is trying to tackle the problem head-on and setting guidance for schools and teachers across the country. It is a tough battle given the sexed up media and our relaxed views on wine and spirits - outrageous, for instance, that beer is the largest, and most visible, supporter of football via advertising. These kids are no dummies.

"Ladies, just a little more virginity if you don't mind."
Sir Herbert Beerhohm Tree, actor and writer, 1852-1917

The Casting, 2007

Sonnet and I went to the Robert Capa opening last week at the Barbican. Capa not the only artist on display - pictured, by Omer Fast.

Erik and I go to the British Museum this afternoon to see Hadrian, whose display ends this week. Hadrian served as Emperor from 117 to 139, succeeding Trajan who weakened Rome's influence through reckless expansion; Hadrian by contrast fortified a defense though Rome's decline already underway. Despite his own great stature as a military administrator, Hadrian's reign was marked by a general lack of major military conflicts, apart from the Second Roman-Jewish War. He surrendered Trajan's conquests in Mesopatamia, considering them to be indefensible.

The Hadrian peace policy was strengthened by the erection of permanent fortifications along the empire's borders, the most famous of these being Hadrian's Wall in GB and the Danube and Rhine borders were strengthened with a series of mostly wooden fortifications, forts, outposts and watch posts, the latter improving communications and local area security. To maintain morale and keep the troops from getting restive, Hadrian established intensive drill routines, and personally inspected the armies. Although his coins showed military images almost as often as peaceful ones, Hadrian's policy was peace through strength, even threat. In other words - talk quietly but carry a big stick. What do they teach these kids at Yale anyway, George Bush?

Since these were Roman times Hadrian, who was married to Sabina, had a homosexual lover Antonios. When Antonios drowned in the Nile Hadrian was heart-broken and celebrated his lover's death with statues and festival.

From uncensored Spartacus (1960)
Licinius: Do you eat oysters?
Antonios: When I have them, master.
Licinius: Do you eat snails?
Antonios: No, master.
Licinius: Do you consider the eating of oysters to be moral and the eating of snails to be immoral?
Antonios:No, master.
Licinius: Of course not. It is all a matter of taste, isn't it?
Antonios: Yes, master.
Licinius: And taste is not the same as appetite, and therefore not a question of morals.
Antonios: It could be argued so, master.
Licinius: My robe, Antoninus. My taste includes both snails and oysters.

New Sheriff

Let us hope. Even Dale concedes that the "New Messiah" has earned the right to be President following McC's poorly run campaign. He tells me he is saving his money for the next election. I love the "robo call" which is political spam. Robo calls are popular because they cost a fraction of the second class poste and not surprisingly the party with less money is using them relentlessly - in some swing states, it is not unusual to get 15 robo calls a day. McC was slimed big-time by robo calls in 2000 and denounced such a tactic; Sunday when reminded of this he replied: "these are legitimate and truthful" messages connecting, for instance, Obama and Ayers. It seems pretty gosh darn obvious that these contacts might drive the typical voter, well, bat-shit crazy and you betcha it has: the recoil includes McC's Maine Co-Chair Susan Collins who has demanded McC stop using them (she is in a tough Senate race herself). Of course there is a simple way to prevent robo calls - simply unplug the telephone, which is what my in-laws have done in Colorado. Bravo.

ClassRoom

When I don't have photos of whatever, I poste - what eva. This one at 11:26AM in a rowdy green Izod. Brother. So this morning I join Eitan's class at the request of his teacher Mrs X. The Big Event is chocolate chip cookies and the kids prepare cookie dough using their maths and their metrics: weighing, calculating and mixing ingredients. Oh boy, it is a mess. I am assigned Eitan's table and must control myself from bossing him around or standing him in a corner. We both feel this an unfair situation BTW. Our first batch comes out a tad, ahem, over-done and Mrs. X encourages a second reminding me "it is a smart table" which I think more a reflection on me. The background noise is tremendous unless Mrs. X claps her hands twice then complete silence. She's a drill-Sargent, no doubt, but has fun with the children. Since I have been sitting class for the last three years I know most of the kids who wave or catch my eye; I reward them by knowing their names, asking the trouble-makers if they are in trouble and offering hi-fives or the Obama "rock" all around. It is good time and sure beats working - though I am certain Mrs. X considers this work, oh boy.

Planet F*****

This is the Nanxiang District, Shangai. Photo taken by IBM who notes they are "helping local, state and federal governments prepare for these changes with everything from new policy thinking to solutions that can transform healthcare. Get ready for the next twelve years." Great.

SB

Here is a piece of urban grit from residential Shepards Bush - I took this photo after Sia. The strange building houses Endomol, famous for giving us Big Brother. The neighborhood otherwise borders West Kensington and Holland Park and Notting Hill and has been the next natural hot-spot as London's city-centre pushes ever outward. On the other side to the north is White City, a huge concrete housing estate constructed for the 1908 Olympics to house the athletes; today it is truly frightening and a no-go zone - many of London's notorious street gangs here then and now. Remarkably given the financial meltdown, SB to open The Westfield, which is to be Europe's largest high-end shopping mall. Oh boy. The retail investment meant to turn around the borderline neighborhood and attract the rich and idle - London has few shopping centres and the wealthy enjoy New Bond Street in Mayfair. To accommodate the more adventurous Gucci and Hermes loving Knightsbridge tourists, the SB underground station received a £400 million up-grade which opened last month (can you imagine this crowd on the underground?). Despite the flash metal and fancy glass public transpo, the Westfield Group which owns The Westfield is going to take this one on the chin.

Dawn Patrol

Madeleine scarfs a chocolate-chip chocolate muffin which I suffer for (they go nuts on the sugar). This morning at the dawn I am joined by Eitan during my Power Walk in Richmond Park. He hangs a few steps behind me, running every now and again to catch up. It is non-stop chatter from the git-go: football, Wayne Rooney, maths, top-5 Torres goals, Mrs X (his teacher), Mrs Y (last year's teacher) and other things on a youngster's mind. Usually when I do this I read my blackberry or listen to the news - or sometimes I jog. It is nice to have company and no small beer: we are out for 40 minutes and enough time to build up a sweat (for me any ways - Eitan seems unaffected). Madeleine catches us on the way in and wants the full after-action report from her brother: "was it hard Eitan? Was it? Are you out of breath? Was it scary in the park?" and so forth.

Stacks

The Battersea Power Station from the railroad. Where you are, there it is - similar to the Empire State Building in New York perhaps.

My photo from Battersea facing North; this area BTW is an island settlement established in the river delta of the Falconbrook; a river that rises in Tooting Bec Common and flows underground through south London to the Thames. Battersea was reclaimed by draining marshland and building culverts for streams. Notable events include The Clash singing "London Calling" on the Thames next to the Battersea Zoo in '80 and it pored rain; the settlement appears in the Doomsday Book as Patricesy; Benedict Arnold is buried here. With the railway from the 1840s, specialties like pig breeding and lavender growing became important industries on Pig Hill and Lavender Hills (what else?)

Madeleine crawls into bed with us last night unable to sleep. We read and she ponders: "Mom, if Gracie and Moe had another child would it be totally out of order?" (as in grand parents then parents then grand children....) and "Does Stan still have the seed?" We order her "out!" laughing all the while.

Colin Powell

Former Army general Colin Powell throws his weight behind Obama: "I think he is a transformational figure. He is a new generation coming onto the world stage, onto the American stage, and for that reason I'll be voting for Senator Barack Obama." The Bears throw themselves under a train losing last night to Arizona State. On balance, I would take an Obama presidency over a Bears' Rose Bowl. But just.

We return from our field trip to the BM and Eitan begs for football. He is pretty motivated after I tell him this morning about Malcolm Gladwell's (motivational guru and author of the best-selling "The Tipping Point") latest book indicating that to be The Greatest requires 10,000 hours of work - this principal trumps other variables like skill and luck and according to Gladwell crosses metiers sport, music and science. Not that I am setting expectations or anything. Any hows, I take the boy to the common and we bump into two sets of neighborhood dads and their sons - an impromptu fathers vs sons results. I trash-talk relentlessly making Eitan cross and the other kids smile - they like being talked to by an adult regardless of what he is saying no doubt.

Madeleine sings at the dinner table: "Do it do it do it do. Do it do it do it do it. Do it do it do it do it." When I tell her to stop, she hums it.

Eating ice cream Eitan screams: "Brain freeze! Brain freeze!" and they crack up.

Madeleine to Eitan eating an ice cream sandwich: "Do it Eitan. stuff it in your mouth and try to scream."

Eitan leaves the table: "I feel like my bum is fat."

BM

We take it to the British Museum against the Shakespeares wishes (Eitan and Madeleine BTW would rather sit inside bored to death than go to a museum).

We make it to see the conclusion of Hadrian, on exhibition and whose wall I touched with Sonnet and her parents in '98. It was April and appropriately it snowed. Unfortunately today is sold out so I will post-pone my full review until Wednesday when I have an entrance.

As we approach the museum I ask Eitan about the Rosetta Stone, which we saw together last visit, and he snipes "yeah, the most boring stone in the whole world." Sometimes it is just plain hard being a kid ("Is there a park? Is there a park? Is there a park?" they plead). Neither deserves the museum so I take Eitan aside and await Sonnet and Madeleine who visit the mummies. Earlier he polished off a chocolate chip chocolate muffin and went bezerko - now he's crashed out and I cuddle him and say it is the sugar and not him. He is miserable but eventually snaps out of it and is back to his old tricks and me mine: "knock it off I said!"

Mission Creep

The Home Office heads towards compulsory registration of all Britain's 72 million mobile phones, more than 40 million of which are pre-paid and untraceable. Registration requires a passport or ID. Phones then can be located to within a few yards using cell site analysis, which tracks mobile users as they move from one signalling area to the next. The system then links with the automatic number plate recognition (ANPR) system of traffic cameras, which provides live coverage of motorways and main roads. It, in turn, is linked to the DVLA which holds the records of all reigstered vehicles in the country. By monitoring a single telephone call it would be possible to identify exactly where it user was and the registration number of the car, which could be found in seconds by ANPR cameras tracked along its journey. In other words, real-time pefect surveillance. This occurs in parellel to plans for a communications database intercepting data on the web and extracting information to be routed into computers by by MI5 and GCHQ, the government's eavesdropping centre in Chelteham - last year GCHQ was given £1 billion but estimated to go to £12 billion even though noboldy knows what, really, they are up to. Eventually it will be tied to medical records and credit card usage no doubt and the UK biometric ID which may be required as early as next year. Of course all this information can go against the owner: in the wrong hands it becomes a threat. And the Home Office has an abysmal track-record of keeping the most simple records, which do have a propensity to go missing. Would you trust the government on this one? Would you?


- > CCT cameras in Britain: 4.2 million (source: Camera Watch UK and Transport for London)

-- > The average Briton has 3,254 piece of personal information stored about him per week (Office of the Information Commissioner)

--- > Requests from police and other public bodies for personal communications data such as phone and email records in 2007: 519,260 (source: CSP)

(Eyeball photo from Business Week)

Clowning

Madeleine tries on her Hallowe'en costume - Silver will recognise it to be the one she made for Sonnet >30years ago. After a busy morning of the usual swimming and football, we now hang about waiting for ManU vs. who cares? which kicks off at 1730 sharp (the Bears play 7PM Pacific and I won't stay up until 4AM even if it is a Pac 10 game). Eitan begs me to turn on the TV early but I tell him to read a book instead - history repeating itself I am sure. Instead he amuses himself with the football and they listen to a Harry Potter CD because Sonnet reading Harry P to them every night for an hour not enough. Meanwhile Sonnet makes a cake and the beaters whirl from the kitchen.

Greased Lightbox

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Andrew

Andrew on the school playground. He and his family live in our nearby neighborhood and he too is in private equity at an established UK firm. Andrew is also a serious runner, as is his wife, and for a while we jogged in the early morning until injuries plagued my existence. He will run the London marathon in April, he tells me.

Sonnet and I have dinner at St John's which is perhaps my favorite restaurant. Located in Clerkenwell next to Spittlefields market, which supplies London's meat, the restaurant was opened by Fergus Henderson and Trevor Gulliver in '94 in a former smokehouse which had fallen in to disrepair once ham and bacon smoking ceased in '67. St John's moto, "from nose to tail eating," kinda says it all: offal and other cuts of meat rarely seen in restaurants, often reclaiming traditional British recipes. Typical dishes are pigs' ears, ducks' hearts, trotters, pigs' tails, bone marrow and, when in season, squirrel. It is consistently ranked inside the World's Top 50 and the New Yorker Magazine profiled St John's as one of the world's most important. Aman. I took my parents BTW and they hated it. Sonnet and I indulge in lamb shanks (raw) and horseradish; calf's bone marrow+sea salt and endives; and smoked eel, bacon and mash. I finish it off with a light bordo - hanibal would be proud.

The Clash

Probably like most teen-agers of the early 1980s I became aware, and then hooked on, The Clash. I'm thinking about this as I bought their October 12, '82 Shea Stadium Live album - the band broke up two weeks later. Mick Jones, pictured with Sienna Miller, brought together the force of The Who and the humor of the New York Dolls - they played together that night in front of 50,000 fans who arrived early for the opening act. The Clash did not disappoint wearing army fatigues and playing their best: "Should I Stay Or Should I Go," "Rock The Casbah" and the song that put the capital forward: "London Calling" which begged for its relevancy during the malaise of the Cold War and nuclear over-hang. I remember a sunny April morning in '82 listening to "Straight To Hell, Boy" on the radio, jumping out of morning swim-practice then biking to school. My friend Aaron had listened to the same song post Crew and we discussed it during biology. The Clash played well at parties and perhaps the most famous that year was at the Elks Club in Berkeley where entrepreneurial hoodie Miles charged $7 for the kids to dance and booze. There were many Freshman first time drunks and we sweated our asses to Mick Jones and Joe Strummer. Magic.

Photo from metro.co.uk

Barbican

This pretty much captures the school run. As Robert Capa says: "If your pictures aren't good enough, you're not close enough."

Sonnet and I attend a photography opening at the Barbican Centre and I am treated to Capa's original prints on loan from the ICP in New York. His most famous occurred D Day when he swam ashore with the second assault wave on Omaha Beach. I learn that Capa had two Contax II cameras mounted with 50 mm lenses and several rolls of spare film. He took 106 pictures in the first couple of hours of the invasion but a staff member at Life in London made a mistake in the darkroom; he set the dryer too high and melted the emulsion in the negatives in three complete rolls and over half of a fourth roll. Only eleven frames in total were recovered. (Capa never said a word to the London bureau chief about the cock up). Life magazine printed 10 of the frames in its June 19, 1944 issue, and I see the complete set last night.

The Barbican Centre BTW is worth a missive. Neighboring cool Clerkenwell and the City, It is the largest performing arts centre in Europe and home of the London Symphony Orchestra and the BBC Symphony Orchestra (Sonnet's Uncle Shelton was asked to run the thing but declined). The centre is part of the strange Barbican Estate which was built from '65 to '75 and a vision of high-rise living that would give J D Ballard a healthy boner. It even smells like the '70s somehow and reminds me of the Laurence Hall of Science: concrete everything. The 13 terrace blocks, grouped around the lake and green squares within the complex, house 4,000 people in 2,014 flats; there are three towers, the tallest 42 stories and soul destroying. I guess City guys keep a place at the Barbican since it is walking distance to the financial district yet in my 12 years of London I have never met a soul who lives there. Weird indeed.

"I am a gambler. I decided to go in with Company E in the first wave. "
Robert Capa

My London

I head into town to do a touch of shopping and by happy coincidence arrive at Trafalgar Square in time to see the Olympics parade and Dame Kelly Holmes address the nation on our "phenomenal success" at Beijing. GB was fourth in medals and the Special Olympics team second. Visa Card is kind enough to hand out Union Jacks and the square is filled with cheering fans awaiting their heroes who begin at Monument then Fleet Street and the Strand before finally us. The spirit is everywhere: face-painted youngsters, old-codgers in tweed caps, teen-agers playing hookie and everybody British and loving the autumnal day, which is warm in the sunshine. From there, I sneak into the National Gallery to visit a few Degas, Van Goughs and Monets as well as some older stuff by Peter Paul Reubens and David Teniers de Younger, both Flemish Masters. By contrast, I pop over to the Portrait Gallery next door to catch the Annie Liebowitz exhibition - her photographs are super duper chic and I love the shocking opening portrait of Johny Depp between then naked girl friend Kate Moss's legs -pictured - it sets the tone for the show. Leibovitz had a close romantic relationship with essayist Susan Sontag and she profiles their relationship in black and white, including Sontag's cancer which ended her life early. In no other place could I take in this much in just one block. Wow.

From Lord Nelson I cross Piccadilly on my way to Carnaby Street to buy some trainers (brown and purple - I ask the cool black kid who serves them up whether "a middle-aged white guy" can get away with the things and he smirks: "they're just trainers, man.") On a nice day, London is hopping and you would never know there is a financial crisis - the FTSE 100 down 5% at this morning's opening trade. Still, thinking about those Olympic athletes, especially the heroism of the handicapped athletes, life is in perspective no doubt it is. Plus England beat Belarus.

Roooney!

Striker Wayne Rooney, until this year's arrival of non-English speaking Italian coach Fabio Capello (earning BTW £6 million per year), has been a bust for his country despite spectacular figures for Manchester United. During a four year stretch with ManU he found net 80 times in 198 appearances; for England, until Capallo, 16 caps and zero strikes. Happily for England and Eitan, Rooney is now making up lost time with five goals in the last three matches of the 2010 World Cup Finals qualifier. Not coincidentally, we are having our best start ever at 4-0 and tops in Group 6. There are still another seven qualifiers to go before the finals but England looks confident. Belarus, who we defeated 3-1 last night at Minsk, has given some good teams a fight while Croatia considered a serious threat before our 5-1 dismantling at Wembley. For now, the team has earned a break and won't regroup until April when the qualifiers continue. Let us hope the lads do not lose their momentum. Eitan goes to bed late with a smile on his face. Seriously. A big one too.

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Sonnet v Sarah

Sonnet and Sarah Palin are both from Alaska (Sonnet attended a slumber party in Wasilla once). Both competed in a beauty pageant: Sonnet runner-up to a gay guy at T-shirt contest during a Beach Boy's concert in '82 while Palin third in the '84 Miss Alaska competition (she did win the Miss Wasilla Pageant). Each is in her 40s and, like, they both went to college: Sarah to five of them in fact. While Palin the first Governor of Alaska, Sonnet the first American curator of fashion at the V&A. Both have never seen Russia from the Alaskan border though Sonnet's' dad took a Pakistani up the Dalton Highway. Each owns a US passport while Sonnet has British citizenship too. On moose: Palin shoots 'em while Silver used to worry about their menacing the vegetables or shrubbery. Sonnet would never, ever, have a gun in or near our house. On sports or fitness, I don't know Palin's work-out schedule - she's pretty damn fit - while Sonnet ran a marathon this year and jogged into work just this morning. Both women are soccer-moms. Sonnet frequently worries about her work-mum responsibilities and whether she gives enough time to her family; I imagine Palin does too and Trig admirable. Sonnet during BBC interviews like Women's Hour (reach: 2-3 million) poised and collected. Sarah Palin on Katie Couric - Titanic. So who is qualified to be VP? Unlike Todd, I would never let mine go but I suppose he is more ambitious.. . . .

"Sitting on a sofa on a Sunday afternoon.
Going to the candidate's debate.
Laugh about it, shout about it
When you've got to choose
Every way you look at this you lose."
From "Mrs. Robinson" by Simon and Garfunkel

Woody?

Well, I am sure the ten of you are getting tired of my rants and raves about the financial crisis or Sarah Palin - It is just that Palin is so much fun. She ticks the boxes for any middle aged soccer-dad: sexy, confident, filled with with vile, conservative rhetoric and completely clueless. Did I mention she is good looking? Any ways, I take the kids to yoga this morning and we play "tag" while waiting for instructor Penny. I can no longer simply move to avoid being "it" and must apply a move or two. Luckily my Jewish basketball legacy is front-and-centre in testing moments like now - lest you laugh, Abe Saperstein (related to Guy) founded the Harlem Globetrotters back in 1926, now that Jew played ball even if he couldn't shoot hoops. The Globetrotters have enjoyed >20,000 exhibition games in 118 countries and I remember seeing them at the Oakland Coliseum when I must have been six or seven (that was also when the Golden State Warriors were good - they had all-white Rick Barry swooshing net. He was not Jewish. I don't think Bubbles Hopkins was either). Moe was a big basketball player too and rumour was he coulda been a contender back in the day when height was subservient to skill. Moe had a rim behind his house in St Louis, which I saw some years ago with him during my cousin DD's wedding.

Eitan and I prepare for tonight's World Cup Qualifier vs. Belarus. This should be a win for us but with England one never knows; adding to the uncertainty eam-captain John Terry remains injured (back) while left back Ashley Cole joins him on the bench with a hamstring pull. Come on England!

Class Rep

Eitan's teacher tells us that Eitan has been voted class-rep by his classmates (otherwise the boy has been quiet about his new honor). Once a month, he meets with the school's head-teacher, Mrs. E, and they discuss things like play and lunchtime meals. He then presents back to the class. On meals, our school is catered and the children encouraged to participate. We know Eitan takes his food seriously and accordingly he has recommended "biscuits, fruit salad, 'toad in the hole,' lasagna, spaghetti boulignase and macaroni and cheese." Cake too, he tells us, while ice cream rejected as too messy. He proudly wears his School Council pin and I know he worries about his responsibility: Sonnet and I overheard him talking in his sleep about the task (mostly he was scared to have mis-placed his badge). Bravo.

Both kids do well in their teacher review yesterday, which Sonnet and I attend. Eitan ahead of the curve while Madeleine slugs it out in the middle. We are way proud of the little pips.

"Toad in the hole" BTW is bangers and mash

By Jimmy!

Just tell any Republican who tries to blame the financial collapse on Carter's Community Reinvestment Act of '77 (and therefore on Democrats) to go review their facts (datas from the Federal Reserve Board):-

- More than 84 percent of the subprime mortgages in 2006 were issued by private lending institutions

- Private firms made nearly 83 percent of the subprime loans to low- and moderate-income borrowers that year

- Only one of the top 25 subprime lenders in 2006 was directly subject to the housing law that's being lambasted by conservative critics

-> Subprime lending offered high-cost loans to the weakest borrowers during the housing boom that lasted from 2001 to 2007. Subprime lending was at its height from 2004 to 2006

--> The "turmoil in financial markets was triggered by a weakening of underwriting standards for U.S. subprime mortgages, beginning in late 2004 and extending into 2007," the President's Working Group on Financial Markets reported Friday