What time could it possibly be?

OH MAN UPDATE FROM LONDON:

# BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG

about 1 hour ago from API

What? What’s that, Big Ben?

# BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG

about 2 hours ago from API

The sun never sets on the Twitterfeed of big_ben_clock.

# BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG BONG
about 3 hours ago from API

Wait, wait, don’t tell me

I know, it’s the early hours of Halloween, that scary night when small children are princesses and ghouls and allowed to eat their body weight in delicious sugar.

But you, you somehow have avoided the lure of bedsheets and poorly placed spots. (Are you….a cow? Smallpox? Copy-editor’s discard bin of punctuation?) Perhaps you felt the need to celebrate that noble profession, the one who tells of kings and swords, who touches the stones of old.

That’s right. So you want to be an archaeologist?

Or a….lion tamer?

Let’s try that again. Show me the archaeologist, internet!

….somehow I do not think her life is in ruins, no.

Okay. Seriously.

I mean, that’s…hilarious. Ladies and gentlemen, Dr. Indiana Bones.

There is a cute guide out there for small children that includes the helpful advice to wear khakis and a shirt, which”should have a cute saying like “I Love Archaeology” or “I dig on Mummies.” This allows for the rather informal archaeologist look to be more solidified.” No! Down with solidity! Archaeologists thrive on grungy khakis and nonaffliated tshirts!

Although I suppose you shouldn’t give children exciting things like articles on “Fixed-point retail location in the major towns of Roman Britain” or pints of beer, so maybe the tee shirt is the way to go.

Stay safe, have fun, don’t let the sexy Spartan Gladiator Wenches in Togas bite!

Belated footnotes

Re: Libraries of the future

This report, entitled “Current Models of Digital Scholarly Communication”, came out in November, 2008; I haven’t had a chance to peruse the whole epic but it sounds utile.

More on the Public and Fresh-off-the-press science news, and how that all is going down (at least within the status quo).

(Implausible sketches for Bernini’s “Chicken”, via Giornale Nuovo)

Re: Money = food= researcher= paperwork => Stop thou shalt read no more without answering these questions three and paying a doubloon.

There is in fact a Directory of Open Access Journals, which offers 21 journals in Archaeology alone, among them, the Bryn Mawr Classical Review. Interestingly,  a great many of the others are not based in the U.S. or even written primarily in English; I am all for that, especially since English/French/German render a great many new articles and seminal texts useless to most of the world.

Also, another, say, more matured discussion of moolah and the hand of Uncle Sam.

(Yes. Yes, everything should be in Latin. Open Source Geek.)

May barbarians invade your personal space!

(courtesy of internetbumperstickers.com)

Economics of the Ivory Towers

Beyond those pesky student loans:

(credit to Dave Gray)

I’m a Jstor addict. This habit would cost approximately 299359 dollars a year if I chose to indulge off campus. Considering the library debate below, this is a serious thing. Open Archaeology is not about the Naked Archaeolgist.  Instead, it’s Oxford’s sterling contribution to that whole future thing. Lives do not tend to depend on things like this:

But I’m fairly sure there are articles out there that would probably help, say, malaria patients. And there’s this to be said:

Hmm. Granted, I’m just one of those pesky undergraduates. But I study a discipline where books, those bound paper things, those essentials of life, can cost a clean 480 euros. I’m pretty sure biology students know the price of knowledge, every semester when they swap nights for symbiotic DNA recombination, or whatever it is they mutter, but more importantly when they hand over several hundred dollars for textbooks useable for a single semester.

The world of doctors, PhD or MD, can do better than this.

Well, this is clearly no good

Well, okay, a drab of good. A swift stroke of fiendish glee against a sea of gloom. From the NY Times: Saving Federal Arts Funds: Selling Culture as an Economic Force
I mean, I feel there are certain judgment calls being made in sentences like this:

“ And some conservative Republicans had denounced the arts as bonbons for a leftist elite with no place in an emergency stimulus bill.   “

But honestly, if someone’s arguing that museums are the cultural equivalent of casinos and golf courses with the approach that funding the NEA does nothing but further produce formaldehyde sharks (note: Damien Hirst hails the Queen) … make the judgment call, New York Times. Make it a clarion call. Just for fun. Worth noting: those sharks might still be in dire straits; the new version lets starving artists have some more, sir, but not a drop to drink for aquariums. Free Willy still doesn’t have a lobbyist? And the idea of expressing the economic value of art and its myriad expressions is probably long overdue in the popular conscious. (See: starving artist stereotype).

When librarians are outlawed, only outlaws will read?

A recent article in the NY Times about the current state of the librarian gives a nice overview of “information literacy teachers” in schools and the tribulations they face:

“ During a lunch period earlier this month, Gagik Sargsyan, 13, slunk into the library and opened a laptop to research a social studies paper on the 1930s and 1940s.

“Have you looked at any books?” Ms. Rosalia asked.

A look of horror came over Gagik’s face. “No,” he said.  “

I know this isn’t directly related to globetrotting, but there’s a chance I might be more intimately familiar with the pedagogical ways of things in the future. (Disclaimer: also, a certain technology specialist of a different sort may have informed my interest). And while certainly I grew up in a house where books spill off every shelf and sneak up around every corner, the librarians in my life are responsible for every single citation and appropriate bibliography, for that sweet trick of pulling out one book to the left of your chosen volume, so that you can return it to the proper spot on the shelf, and the joys of online computer catalogs.

It’s a simple, simple life.

Anyway, since the latter leads indirectly to one, if not both, of my current roles of employment, I’m willing to shout tally-ho in the fight against any debtors and slanderers of the library world. This is important stuff. We had libraries before museums. (See: Sennacherib’s palace, Alexandria, Trajan’s library). The concept of the written word as a preserver of some kind of privileged knowledge has been a foundation of civilization since the genesis of permanent literature. Clay tablets are surprisingly durable; voices, not so much. (Note: not intended to disparage oral traditions, in any way, shape, or form. The debate about the ancient intersection of sacred and commercial and historical trends codified into various scripted forms should happen…but not quite yet.)

So where does that leave us today? It’s not merely a question of getting kids to read, it’s a question how, and of why. These are important things. On one hand, yes, this is selfish- with any luck, I’ll be playing the role of Barr, Dr. Barr at some point in the future, pith helmet in hand, and I’d rather have reports that don’t cite the Naked Archaeologist. On the other, having better learners, and instilling the desire to seek the truth behind all things, sounds fairly decent all around. Research skills are essential. Want to pay your taxes? Put down an informed vote? Order Kind Hearts and Coronets instead of National Treasure II? Wikipedia is no god. (Ignore the libation jars in the corner in front of Related Links). It’s true that libraries, just like my beloved museums, are changing. It’s true that the conception of knowledge and of the protocols necessary for partaking are mutable. There are ridiculous, exciting things out there, out beyond the Dewey Decimal System. (See: Google Books. BibliOdyssey. My beloved, the moon of carrel, the oasis of my thesis, JStor. And I can but abase myself at the altar for repentant Luddites.) But if research is neglected from so early on, what happens to science? What happens to essays? It doesn’t have to be a “libriarian”, or even anyone named Marian. But replacing treasure hunts with standarized tests is no good.

Am I totally off-base with this? Is this just another fear-mongering report of an effete publication? Please, tell me about it. How should this be integrated into lesson plans? Who should be responsible? Are libraries in schools an archaic institution of leftover paste and card catalogs? This isn’t to impugn teachers, who clearly reinforce the importance of solid research and new vistas of research and all that jazz. But should that also be their duty?

Mentioned in the article: http://allaboutexplorers.com/. Sterling idea, all around. Consider the entry on Ferdinand Magellan:

“ Early in his career, Magellan was first a soldier. During the Battle of Hastings, Magellan was seriously injured. His leg had to be amputated as a result. The wooden leg that replaced it never fit him properly, and he walked with a limp for the rest of his life. He also lost an eye after being shot by an AK-47 during the same battle.   “

Clearly, ridiculous. But back in the days before Cliff Notes: European History version, I’m fairly sure 56.7% of this paragraph would have ended up inevitably humiliating me in front of my parents, who would sentence me to read the Encyclopedia Britannica entry (ca. 1816) until my eyes had the truth etched into them in a tiny typeface. I’m also pretty sure Google didn’t become an hourly tryst until at least middle school, when the blinkers of naivety started combusting for all sorts of reasons. (The moment of truth came in seventh grade, when a classmate, innocently researching Spanish flu, typed in symptoms like “fever” and “hot”. The moment of truth was impressively operatic, flashly and improbable with respects to anatomy.) So gold stars all around for setting up a safe environment for experimenting with fact and fiction. Also, for being ridiculous.

Alternatively, may I suggest this fine educational resource:

Edifying

Zombie Mummy alert: the Egyptian sands have revealed another treasure trove.

Some of the Roman Catacombs will no longer offer up their usual terror to unsuspecting siblings of cruel brothers who attempt to abandon them in the arms of gaping holes and fruitless escape routes, not to be too personal, or anything.
Iraq is…why archaeology destroys as much as it reveals. The palaces of yore should not be playtoys of politics.

(Okay, I admit that’s a serious statement, and perhaps not a fair one.  But what should the role of antiquity be? Is it just for show? Is it the luxury of wealth nations? If we grant artefacts and sites international worth, than who should safeguard them?)

Helen of Troy may have stolen the lives of thousands of men and filled their sails with war, but Nefertiti seems to have powers beyond the grave. Her countenance, to wit, so stole the heart of a German archaeologist that she too was kidnapped for foreign shores. Egypt hasn’t quite threatened Germany with troops of suitors, but surely that’s next.
Zelda vs. Praetorian Guard? Veni, vidi, video game win!

You can’t drink it black.

In fact Turkey may be the only country that believes more fervently in the power of tea than Bryn Mawr. Forget tea parties. You drink tea in the morning, there’s tea at shops; dudes with peculiar platters on strings ensure tea delivery throughout the city and if all else fails, there’s coffee. Why people in Turkey bother sleeping is really beyond me. To make tea involves not quite a ritual but a lot of faith. First, dump tea into a small pot. And by dump tea I don’t mean “a teaspoon” or “for every four ounces of water, add…” This kind of tea has its own laundry-sized scoop and lives in a container without a lid. Sploosh some water inside. Not a lot. This is the espresso of the tea world, concentrated and black like coffee. The aforementioned pot lives on top of a another kettle, filled with a more substantial amount of water; the whole thing is set to boil while you prepare the saucers and strangely sinuous wee tea cups, made all of glass. Also a sugar pot. There is always a sugar pot. In fact I was not entirely sure the “sugar free” concept existed in Turkey until I saw a pack of Trident. Let’s just say Splenda is not likely to reach any export agreements any time soon….

At any rate now everything is set: the only decision is now how much you wish to dilute your caffeine overdose of the hour. First add the raw tea, then water to the desire of goodness required. Add sugar. Do it or suffer social ostracism. Sip. Ahhh.

But there’s really no escape. It’s either that or Nescafe, and yes, drink up. They’ll be sad and you’ll be all mopey and tired and stuff.

…unless you decide to drink Turk kahve instead, in which case you may well wake up in a tent on the far side of the Taurus mountains with some nomadic herdsmen because honestly, kapow. Forget tea leaves, those in the know should head straight for this stuff. To order it mention a little bit of sugar, a medium scoop, or a lot- having it plain is just so gauche. Also, vile. Turkish coffee comes in lesser doses than espresso and is so rich, so dark, so black; the grounds are silt against your tongue and by the end you’re mired in murk and bitter grounds.

There is a Starbucks in the airport. Lattes are around eight bucks, depending on the exchange rate. But really?