LASERS. Archaeologists with LASERS.

Well, okay, additional lasers.

From the NYTimes:

For the Caracol survey, the aircraft flew less than a half-mile above the terrain at the end of the dry season, when foliage is less dense. The Airborne Laser Terrain Mapper, as the specific advanced system is named, issued steady light pulses along 62 north-south flight lines and 60 east-west lines….Not all the laser pulses transmitted from the aircraft made it to the surface. Some were reflected by the tops of trees. But enough reached the ground and were reflected back to the airborne instruments. These signals, measured and triangulated by GPS receivers and processed by computers, produced images of the surface contours. This revealed distinct patterns of building ruins, causeways and other human modifications of the landscape.

Amazing! Magnetometry has been rocking my socks off this whole year:

But, you know, rainforest + plane + AIRBOURNE LASER (terrain mapper).

It’s a bird, it’s a plane, it’s…Pompeii?

Okay, I admit, I was pretty sure MASSIVE ICE AGE HITS EUROPE (translation: three inches of slush) and MASSIVE STRIKES (translation: bored people with pennants) were about the limit of Things That Could Go Wrong When Traveling The Skies.

What? What’s that, Mother Nature?

Icelandic volcanic ash heading for Britain expected to delay flights

Oh.

Volcanic ash, which consists of the pulverised rock and glass created by the eruptions, can jam aircraft machinery if a plane flies through the plume, shutting down the engines.

Oh good.

La vita dolce

In news from across the Atlantic, and the Mediterranean, comes word from the last remnant of the Roman Empire. Yes. Berlusconi. He’s basically doing the Rocky stair climb up the Vittorio Emmanuale monument, with flames lit from the roiling court papers in his wake.

Exhibit A:

Italian prime minister Silvio Berlusconi will again evade prosecution over corruption charges after Italy’s parliament passed a new law allowing him to claim that he is too busy to attend court.

Yes. I don’t think that needs anything further.

Additionally making the rounds is this:

“Caution! Scantily-clad hazard ahead: Italian prostitutes get own road sign to warn motorists!”

Exhibit B:

Because really, what the roads needed in Italy was additional distraction and gesticulation. Really!

Double take

One morning….

And the next, a shot snagged as I stumbled from bed to desk, bleary-eyed, and unaware of what I espied.

Thanks, England. You’re making the flower shed sad petals all over the windowsill. You promised them Constable, and they’ve ended up in Brughels. Honestly.

Ave atque vale

Most visitors to Pompeii will have met the old kids on the block, those packs of dogs that sniffle for scraps and who scrape up and down the crumbling walls. In a surprising move, the forces that be have marshaled the piteous fate of the dogs (and of the ruins) into a service for good: (C)ave canem!

Yes. It is a Latin pun. I love it so.

So basically they spruce up the dog, you sign a waiver, presumably give them denarii of some kind, and trundle on home with Jove or Europa or whichever mythological beast takes your fancy. (Why this is lacking a Cerberus is beyond me). Definitely better than another pair of David boxers or rancid olive oil, but, seriously, some of us live out of boxes, and those faces are heartbreaking, and so perhaps there could be a ‘pane et circus’ option for those of us who are sappy grad students, and who lack emotional restraint when it comes to fur.

Alternatively they could have Adopt This Priceless Treasure of Antiquity, which could pretty much cover anything in Pompeii and the surrounding five hundred miles of countryside, in which you get a trading card of your Fresco With Graffiti or Collectible Brickwork, but, you know, the dogs are pretty awesome.

OH NOES SNOW

UPDATE: It snowed an inch in three hours!

UPDATE: THERE IS SNOW FALLING IN LONDON OH WHATEVER SHALL WE DO THE GROUND IS WET.

I hear that there is snow elsewhere in the island, given that the news reporters will talk of nothing but snowmen and the M43 and the A-whatsit. But, you know. It is basically damp, in a slightly more interesting way than usual. I know, there are places in the country with actual snow, and that some bad things have happened, and that, yes, there have been runs on bread and milk, because when in doubt, you can always have toast and tea. In London of course you could also pick up enough packs of Decent Sushi and some dark chocolate biscuits to wait out the snow flurries so really, bread and milk is just crazy talk.

UPDATE: I looked outside my window and it was dark. More BREAKING NEWS TOMORROW WHEN THE SUN IS OUT.

IF THE SUN COMES OUT IN THIS BARREN, USELESS WASTELAND, THESE GLACIAL SHORES AND THESE PAINFULLY NEAR FREEZING STREETS.

BREAKING NEWS: SNOWBALL THE HEDGEHOG SLIMS DOWN

The Daily Mail is not exactly England’s most reputable of newspapers, which is kind of like saying West Baltimore at night is not a great promenade like the alleys of D.C. But sometimes, they redeem themselves from the cruel taunts of “The Daily Fail” and “that rag” and publish truly great articles, like this: Snowball the overweight hedgehog is running and swimming his way back to health!

Yes, hedgehogs are a vital part of the U.K. This one has been shipped to St Tiggywinkles for a strict regime of…cat food and swimming. God. Children can’t find Africa on a map but readers of the Daily Fail can diet small rodents. Thanks, mainstream tabloids. I owe you…never mind. Your lunch money. Now.

In a rare instance of fact checking, St Tiggywinkles in actually a real place, full of 1299 Adorable Sad Animals. The current plea is to help them cover the costs of wintering a hedgehog; this is a pricey 111.50 sterling and you have to deal with PayPal’s knowing winks at your receipt for “St Tiggywinkles”. You can learn how to make your own hedgehog home! “Help tiny creatures!” This is the best place on earth. Seriously I just melted into a puddle of goo. Moral of the story? Britain is a place of wonders!

Whack-A-Hoard

“Many people using metal detectors do not know the law. In England every piece of land belongs to someone and you need to get permission from the landowner.”

Stop stealing, folks. Yes, hoards (and hordes) are nifty. But oddly, laws don’t recognize the But It’s Awesome principle, which is why Louboutin makes shoes for a capitalist, greedy world, and why Greece is suing the pants off every country who got a postcard with a temple on it in the 19th century. (I kid, because I care.) But fields? Not a toy. The seeds in a pouch, the charcoal from a pit, the condition of the soil in which the gold is in- it is priceless.

…also, illegal. So basically bullying farmers. They have plagues and pesticides and sunshine to worry about. Nighthawkers? Just gratuitous.

See? Do it legally, and the archaeologists are mostly happy, you get to be stupidly wealthy and minorly famous, and everyone gets to see ridiculously nifty…things!

If there’s somethin’ strange in your neighborhood, who ya gonna blame? JETLAG.

So, true story, I ended up across the globe again. I meant to tidy this up in the intervening months- maybe throw in some more homemade jetlag, bandy about words from that ol’ country called America.

But then I hit my thesis, or, more approximately, I was a frozen creampuff shivering in the tracks of an oncoming freight train laden with C-4 material.

You know. The usual difficulties of graduation and all that.

Anyway, a year later, I’m officially an M St. student at Oxford University, St Cross College, should it matter. There is a great deal of tea. Also brownies (?!). And marshmallows because the world has gone mad. Totally mad.

Educational:

A spot of education.

Forsooth.

En garde

Oh, world of wellies and flapjacks and tea and biscuits, by default. Everything seems normal. You know.

Because aliens invented the internet?

Just like this.

Best seat in town.

Oh, England. I don’t even have to lie back and think about you. You’re just so…British.

…or, whatever that is. Culture: because Ramen Noodles are a universal Bad Idea!

Pretty sure they should go ahead with helicopters and paint Europe

True:

Classy

But now there’s hope: New Anti-graffiti Coating Able To Protect Cultural Heritage Ancient Materials Has Been Developed To Prevent Damage Caused By Graffiti Attack

This is kind of endemic to most of Europe- the trains in Switzerland were the one splash of insanity among the gray concrete of the stations. But the worst is seeing freschi or tumuli scratched and scribbled on with dreck. Seriously. Badly worded missives of love were worth destroying the feet of a monk? (Note: I would have photos except, of course, I’m an idiot, so just imagine a sun-lit niche next to one of the aqueduct tunnels outside of Rome, turned into a monastic dwelling and massacred by ballpoints.) Clearly this can’t protect against the truly determined, but if it works/is cost efficient/doesn’t turn out to leach death/etc., sounds like a decent innovation.