| Monday, September 23, 2002 |
 | I love things like this. Puzzles. Mysteries. Reminders that, for all our interminable computing power and tedious storehouse of knowledge, the human race doesn't even know very much about the human race. Most importantly, archeologists making absolute arses of themselves.
There's always been a bit of needle between classicists and archeologists. We've just finished speculating romantically on these pottery shards and they come along and stick them together, which seems unnecessary. It also means that one has to form an interpretation, which coudl be wrong, rather than a sensation, which, if not right, is at least suitably dramatic.
Classics is the domain of frilly shirts, not tiny brushes, and don't you forget it.
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