Sunday, July 3, 2011

To my critics:

In ordnung, folks.  I think I finally have this thing figured out.  I've been busy since about 1890, so I haven't had the opportunity to get used to "computers," or "the internets," as of yet.  You'll just have to bear with me.

Essentially, I've been getting a lot of crap lately regarding my "non-traditional," "nonacademic," and "fabricated" archaeological techniques.  First of all, just because I wasn't professionally trained, per se, doesn't mean I don't know what I'm doing.  Maybe some of you out there lack my level of inspiration, but I've been doing this since long before any of you were born, and I can assure you that I am an authority in my field.

I'm not saying I haven't made a few mistakes here and there.  Maybe I wasn't exactly truthful about the origins of Priam's Treasure, but I prefer to think of it as just being creative with other scholars' interpretation of reality.  As if anyone can keep up with those fickle, uptight, pedantic snobs in their ivory towers anyway.  Sure, perhaps I did destroy a few of Troy's middens, but you have to understand that I was working without the benefit of ground-penetrating radar and archaeological "standards."  I'm looking at you, Ken Harl.  And so what I received my United States citizenship only two days after I arrived in New York under less than literal circumstances?  Those two days certainly felt like five years and, besides, I like to consider myself a "citizen of the world," anyway.  Them Mexicans don't seem to worry about silly things like borders and national sovereignty, and neither do I.  I'm busy pondering more important things, like one of my favorite bits from the Odyssey:

"'Cyclops, you ask my name and I will tell it you; give me, therefore, the present you promised me; my name is Noman; this is what my father and mother and my friends have always called me.'

"But the cruel wretch said, 'Then I will eat all Noman's comrades before Noman himself, and will keep Noman for the last. This is the present that I will make him.'

As he spoke he reeled, and fell sprawling face upwards on the ground. His great neck hung heavily backwards and a deep sleep took hold upon him. Presently he turned sick, and threw up both wine and the gobbets of human flesh on which he had been gorging, for he was very drunk. Then I thrust the beam of wood far into the embers to heat it, and encouraged my men lest any of them should turn faint-hearted. When the wood, green though it was, was about to blaze, I drew it out of the fire glowing with heat, and my men gathered round me, for heaven had filled their hearts with courage. We drove the sharp end of the beam into the monster's eye, and bearing upon it with all my weight I kept turning it round and round as though I were boring a hole in a ship's plank with an auger, which two men with a wheel and strap can keep on turning as long as they choose. Even thus did we bore the red hot beam into his eye, till the boiling blood bubbled all over it as we worked it round and round, so that the steam from the burning eyeball scalded his eyelids and eyebrows, and the roots of the eye sputtered in the fire. As a blacksmith plunges an axe or hatchet into cold water to temper it- for it is this that gives strength to the iron- and it makes a great hiss as he does so, even thus did the Cyclops' eye hiss round the beam of olive wood, and his hideous yells made the cave ring again. We ran away in a fright, but he plucked the beam all besmirched with gore from his eye, and hurled it from him in a frenzy of rage and pain, shouting as he did so to the other Cyclopes who lived on the bleak headlands near him; so they gathered from all quarters round his cave when they heard him crying, and asked what was the matter with him.

"'What ails you, Polyphemus,' said they, 'that you make such a noise, breaking the stillness of the night, and preventing us from being able to sleep? Surely no man is carrying off your sheep? Surely no man is trying to kill you either by fraud or by force?

"But Polyphemus shouted to them from inside the cave, 'Noman is killing me by fraud! Noman is killing me by force!'

"'Then,' said they, 'if no man is attacking you, you must be ill; when Jove makes people ill, there is no help for it, and you had better pray to your father Neptune.'

"Then they went away, and I laughed inwardly at the success of my clever stratagem....'"
(Read more here:

Haha, what a gas.  I'd totally go gay for you, Homer.

Regardless, I thought I'd just clear that up for all my critics.  In other news, I've decided to start using this blog as my explorer's diaryer, journal.  Manly journal. (You do know how I love my journal).   I'll be sure to post any interesting findings I come across in my various expeditions.

Auf wiedersehen for now.

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