On a Sunday morning around midday a little girl and her family were visiting a zoo. Leaning into the lion’s cage the little girl was suddenly grabbed by the lion who tried to pull her into the cage for what it saw as an easy meal and all under the eyes of her hysterical parents.
A biker jumps off his Harley, runs over to the cage and hits the lion square on the nose with a powerful punch. Whimpering with pain, the lion releases the little girl and limps away.
The biker reunites the little girl with her terrified parents who thank him endlessly. A heritage blogger who saw the whole thing runs over to the biker, and says, “My God, that was the bravest thing I’ve ever seen.”
The biker replies, “Well, it was nothing, really. I just saw this little kid in danger, and acted as I’ve been trained.”
The blogger says, “Well, I’ll make sure this won’t go unnoticed. I’m a heritage blogger and I’m going to run this story in my next update. Let me ask you for some background information; what do you do for a living; hobbies etc; and what if any, political affiliations do you have?”
The biker says, “I’m ex-British Army special forces; politically Conservative; and I voted for Brexit”. The next day the biker tunes in to the blog to see the report on his actions. The headline reads:
“Extreme Right-wing UK ex-army thug viciously assaults African émigré to steal his lunch.”
And that just about sums up how archaeology’s loony fringe reports facts.
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Over on Dick Stout’s excellent blog, Stout Standards https://stoutstandards.wordpress.com/2024/04/13/eclipsed/#more-52188 he’s done yet another of his semi tongue-in-cheek pieces. Worth a read.
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Oh, Silly me Here was I thinking it referred to archaeology’s narcissistic wing. https://www.msn.com/en-gb/lifestyle/lifestylegeneral/repel-slugs-with-cheap-and-easy-product-that-can-be-used-all-over-your-home/ar-BB1lybt9?ocid=msedgntp&pc=U531&cvid=56a90559a5ff4c089ab611a976b253f0&ei=91 My apologies to slugs everywhere. No offence intended.
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I am not anti-archaeology, far from it. Archaeology serves a great purpose in keeping the riff-raff out of metal detecting.
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See Yoo, Jimmy!
An archaeologist anxious to finish the last pages of his excavation report and to get away from interruptions, hired a remote cottage in the Scottish Highlands.
Early one evening while tapping away at the keyboard, there came loud knocks on the door. “Blimey,” he thought, “Who the hell is that?”. Opening the door, he was confronted by a 6’6” broad-shouldered, red-haired, and bearded, Highlander, wielding a claymore, shield, and dressed in a kilt.
“Aye, laddie”, says the giant clansman, “I’m takin’ yer to a cèilidh in ma’ castle in the glen.”
“What the hell is a cèilidh?” says the arkie. “
“Och, Laddie, ’tis a special highland gathering wi’ lots o’ traditional food, washed down with lots o’ whisky, followed by lots o’ wild, uninhibited sex, followed by more food, more whisky, and more no holds barred sex,” says the giant Highlander.
“Sounds great,” says our arkie, “Just hold on a minute while I change into something suitable.”
“Och aye, no need, Laddie,” says the clansman, “There’ll only be the two of us!.”
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Every narcissistic pseudo-archaeologist needs a detectorist to look down on.
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Happy and lucrative hunting
DETECTING & COLLECTING 