Archeology Quotes

An archaeologist is the best husband a woman can have. The older she gets, the more interested he is in her.

Music at its best...is the grand archeology into and transfiguration of our guttural cry, the great human effort to grasp in time our deepest passions and yearnings as prisoners of time. Profound music leads us--beyond language--to the dark roots of our scream and the celestial heights of our silence.

As the archeology of our thought easily shows, man is an invention of recent date. And one perhaps nearing its end.

You have a lot to learn, young man. Philosophy. Theology. Literature. Poetry. Drama. History. Archeology. Anthropology. Mythology. Music. These are your tools as much as brush and pigment. You cannot be an artist until you are civilized. You cannot be civilized until you learn. To be civilized is to know where you belong in the continuum of our art and your world. To surmount the past, you must know the past.

An archaeologist is a ghoul with credentials.

I'll search in mythology and archeology and in every -ology to my old name. one of the goddesses of Canaan will side with me, then swear with a flash of lightning. This is my orphan son

There were details like clothing, hair styles and the fragile objects that hardly ever survive for the archaeologist—musical instruments, bows and arrows, and body ornaments depicted as they were worn. … No amounts of stone and bone could yield the kinds of information that the paintings gave so freely.

By the way, who invented Peace?

Dying is easy, beloved. It is living that is difficult. The secret is to live fully, to embrace every instant of existence, beautiful and ugly, blissful and painful. And remember to dance between the worlds, for that is your heritage as a child of the infinite Oneness.

Madre de piedra, espuma de los cóndores. Alto arrecife de la aurora humana. Pala perdida en la primera arena.

Having to accept hominoids as real will require having to acknowledge that the prehuman fossil record is comprised entirely of their bones, rather than ours.

Anthropologists have invented the ingenious, convenient, fictional notion of the “true Negro,” which allows them to consider, if need be, all the real Negroes on earth as fake Negroes, more or less approaching a kind of Platonic archetype, without ever attaining it. Thus, African history is full of “Negroids,” Hamites, semi-Hamites, Nilo-Hamitics, Ethiopoids, Sabaeans, even Caucasoids! Yet, if one stuck strictly to scientific data and archeological facts, the prototype of the White race would be sought in vain throughout the earliest years of present-day humanity.

Today I know I was right. The adolescents of my generation, greedy for life, forgot in body and soul about their hopes for the future until reality taught them that tomorrow was not what they had dreamed, and they discovered nostalgia. My Sunday columns were there, life an archeological relic among the ruins of the past, and they realized they were not only for the old but also for the young who were not afraid of aging.

It was like archeology. There was digging and there was dirt. And there was broken things.

Man I studied phychology, Theology, Archeology, the nervous system, The Brain, algerba, Anatomy, read the Bible four times in its entirety, politics, and so much more.

The reuse of names by later (Maya) kings (of Palenque) is not random, but conforms to a reversed re-ordering. The overall king list suggests a closed system. We hesitate to think that Maya dynasties were predestined to end by themselves . .

(About "Black Debt" by Steve McCaffery) 'Impersonal' as this text is, it is by no means unemotional or uninvolved. We learn nothing-- at least nothing direct-- about McCaffery's (or his narrator's) personal life, his opinions or ruminations. Nonetheless I would posit that 'Lag' projects a highly particularized way of looking at things, of processing the most diversified information fields-- geology and genetics, archeology and advertising, classics and commercials-- that is finally recognizable in its particular ways of negotiating with language as is the more personal lyric consciousness we expect to find in poetry.

There was never any record, either historical, textual or archeological, that supports this premise for an Aryan invasion. There also is no record of who would have been the invaders. The fact is that it is a theory that came from mere linguistic speculation which happened during the nineteenth century when very little archeological excavation had yet been done around India.

The limitations of archaeology are galling. It collects phenomena, but hardly ever can isolate them so as to interpret scientifically; it can frame any number of hypotheses, but rarely, if ever, scientifically prove.

Tedious as it may appear to some to dwell on the discovery of odds and ends that have, no doubt, been thrown away by the owner as rubbish ... yet it is by the study of such trivial details that Archaeology is mainly dependent for determining the date of earthworks. ... Next to coins fragments of pottery afford the most reliable of all evidence ...

It is noteworthy, the researcher further argued, that the inscription on the sword was engraved in the Romanian language, and, consequently, we see that Latin was actually Romanian, and not the invented language that for many centuries has passed for ancient Latin.

You idolize peasants. You look up to island savages living “at one with Nature,” I ask you to see what happened to Margaret Mead, and how the Polynesians punked her—most of the things she wrote about their views on life, about their sexual freedom, was nonsense they made up to make her look foolish. In same way the fools like Gimbutas and others who believe that mankind at some remote point lived under a benevolent matriarchy, again, “at one with Nature,” in balance with the needs of the soil and such: sheer nonsense. Everywhere historians, archaeologists find what we thought was matriarchy was really no such thing.

The larger the pile of rubble you leave behind, the larger your place in the historical record!

Rome wasn’t just a city—it was a living memory, carved in stone and whispered through fountains.

Raphael painted not just with colour, but with code—each brushstroke concealing a secret yearning to be understood.

Can't have a care when you unzip & bare the rare hieroglyphs from the archeological digs unearthed from those undiscovered inner layers.

A walk is exploring surfaces and textures with finger, toe, and—yuck—tongue; standing still and seeing who or what comes by; trying out different forms of locomotion (among them running, marching, high-kicking, galloping, scooting, projectile falling, spinning, and noisy shuffling). It is archeology: exploring the bit of discarded candy wrapper; collecting a fistful of pebbles and a twig and a torn corner of a paperback; swishing dirt back and forth along the ground. It is stopping to admire the murmuring of the breeze in the trees; locating the source of the bird’s song; pointing. Pointing!— using the arm to extend one’s fallen gaze so someone else can see what you’ve seen. It is a time of sharing. On our block,

I can't tell you how I felt when my father died. But I was able to write Song of Solomon and imagine, not him, and not his specific interior life, but the world that he inhabited and the private or interior life of the people in it. And I can't tell you how I felt reading to my grandmother while she was turning over and over in her bed (because she was dying, and she was not comfortable), but I could try to reconstruct the world that she lived in. And I have suspected, more often than not, that I know more than she did, that I know more than my grandfather and my great-grandmother did, but I also know that I'm no wiser than they were. And whenever I have tried earnestly to diminish their vision and prove to myself that I know more, and when I have tried to speculate on their interior life and match it up with my own, I have been overwhelmed every time by the richness of theirs compared to my own. Like Frederick Douglass talking about his grandmother, and James Baldwin talking about his father, and Simone de Beauvoir talking about her mother, these people are my access to me; they are my entrance into my own interior life. Which is why the images that float around them--the remains, so to speak, at hte archeological site--surface first, and they surface so vividly and so compellingly that I acknowledge them as my route to a reconstruction of a world, to an exploration of an interior life that was not written and to the revelation of a kind of truth.

History is the collective and ancestral shit of the human race, a great big and ever-growin pile of crap. Right now we're standin at the top of it, but pretty soon we'll be buried under the doodoo of generations yet to come. That's why folks' clothes look so funny in old photographs, to name but a single example. And, as someone who's destined to be buried beneath the shit of your children and grandchildren, I think you should be just a leetle more forgiving.

Invisibility--there are things we can't see now, that are there, that are embedded, that it really takes time in order to be able to see. There are many ghosts that are lurking around and lingering through us that takes the technology of another generation or so in order to uncover and show what those stains and strains and perceived flaws really we're building towards

A landscape fossilized, It's stone-wall patternings Repeated before our eyes In the stone walls of Mayo. Before I turned to go He talked about persistence, A congruence of lives, How, stubbed and cleared of stones, His home accrued growth rings Of iron, flint and bronze - "Belderg

The bus had a name too. Elaborately painted letters across the back declared it to be “Old but Sexy.” It occurred to me that as I slipped inexorably into middle age, such a title might be the best I myself could hope for.

If I considered the Partition an archeological site, and the many experiences of those who witnessed it as the site’s structural sedimentation, then the deeper I excavated, the more I found, and that too in innumerable renditions.

Every myth has some basis in fact, which is why the study of ancient history is so important. Archeology can uncover some of the secrets. Myths whisper the rest of what we know. In that way myths provide more room for error and more room for discovery.

Then imagine with me a moment that God is not alone. It is possible that He presides over more than just man? There are a number of archeological wonders about the world leading one to believe that more than just mortal man and beast have walked this earth.

The archeological facts speak for themselves: although churches dotted Spain’s landscape when Islam came in 711, “today, the remains of even small ‘Mozarabic’ [dhimmi] churches can be found only outside the former ‘al-Andalus,’ and none of them in major urban centers.”21

When someone asks, "What do you do?” don't start with your occupation or family status. Instead, tell them about the "real you" with a spin. You might say, "Back home I'm run a coffee shop, but on this trip, I'm getting in touch with the part of me who wished she'd studied archeology.

If you find that you're going through hell, keep moving. You will get to the end eventually.

To excavate is to open a book written in the language that the centuries have spoken into the earth.

Each discovery felt like an invitation… to uncover the stories it held, both celebrated and obscured by time.

It’s as if history and the present are alive together, breathing the same air.

Archeolog, tak jak saper, myli się tylko raz. Jak coś wykopie i zapomni to narysować, sfotografować, opisać w dzienniku wykopaliskowym i jeszcze wypełnić rubryki wszystkich kart, których jest więcej niż stron w książce telefonicznej prywatnych abonentów Nowego Jorku, informacje przepadną na zawsze. Przepadnie cały kontekst. Kontekst to święta krowa archeologii...

When sovereignty first expands to become the general organizing principle of a society, it is by turning violence into kinship. The early, spectacular phase of mass killing in both China and Egypt, whatever else it may be doing, appears to be intended to lay the foundations of what Max Weber referred to as a ‘patrimonial system’: that is, one in which all the kings’ subjects are imagined as members of the royal household, at least to the degree that they are all working to care for the king. Turning erstwhile strangers into part of the royal household, or denying them their own ancestors, are thereby ultimately two sides of the same coin. Or to put things another way, a ritual designed to produce kinship becomes a method of producing kingship.

Pham Nuwen spent years learning to program/explore. Programming went back to the beginning of time. It was a little like the midden out back of his father’s castle. Where the creek had worn that away, ten meters down, there were the crumpled hulks of machines—flying machines, the peasants said—from the great days of Canberra’s original colonial era. But the castle midden was clean and fresh compared to what lay within the Reprise’s local net. There were programs here that had been written five thousand years ago, before Humankind ever left Earth. The wonder of it—the horror of it, Sura said—was that unlike the useless wrecks of Canberra’s past, these programs still worked! And via a million million circuitous threads of inheritance, many of the oldest programs still ran in the bowels of the Qeng Ho system. Take the Traders’ method of timekeeping. The frame corrections were incredibly complex—and down at the very bottom of it was a little program that ran a counter. Second by second, the Qeng Ho counted from the instant that a human had first set foot on Old Earth’s moon. But if you looked at it still more closely. . .the starting instant was actually some hundred million seconds later, the 0-second of one of Humankind’s first computer operating systems. So behind all the top-level interfaces was layer under layer of support. Some of that software had been designed for wildly different situations. Every so often, the inconsistencies caused fatal accidents. Despite the romance of spaceflight, the most common accidents were simply caused by ancient, misused programs finally getting their revenge. “We should rewrite it all,” said Pham. “It’s been done,” said Sura, not looking up. She was preparing to go off-Watch, and had spent the last four days trying to root a problem out of the coldsleep automation. “It’s been tried,” corrected Bret, just back from the freezers. “But even the top levels of fleet system code are enormous. You and a thousand of your friends would have to work for a century or so to reproduce it.” Trinli grinned evilly. “And guess what—even if you did, by the time you finished, you’d have your own set of inconsistencies. And you still wouldn’t be consistent with all the applications that might be needed now and then.” Sura gave up on her debugging for the moment. “The word for all this is ‘mature programming environment.’ Basically, when hardware performance has been pushed to its final limit, and programmers have had several centuries to code, you reach a point where there is far more signicant code than can be rationalized. The best you can do is understand the overall layering, and know how to search for the oddball tool that may come in handy—take the situation I have here.” She waved at the dependency chart she had been working on. “We are low on working fluid for the coffins. Like a million other things, there was none for sale on dear old Canberra. Well, the obvious thing is to move the coffins near the aft hull, and cool by direct radiation. We don’t have the proper equipment to support this—so lately, I’ve been doing my share of archeology. It seems that five hundred years ago, a similar thing happened after an in-system war at Torma. They hacked together a temperature maintenance package that is precisely what we need.” “Almost precisely.

Quano você dilata (k'ai), você deve pensar em retrair (ho) e então haverá estrutura. Quando você retrai (ho), deve pensar em dilatar (k'ai) e então você terá um desembaraço inexprimível e um ar de espírito inexaurível.

Neutrons don’t influence an atom’s identity, but they do add to its mass. The number of neutrons is generally about the same as the number of protons, but they can vary up and down slightly. Add a neutron or two and you get an isotope. The terms you hear in reference to dating techniques in archeology refer to isotopes—carbon-14, for instance, which is an atom of carbon with six protons and eight neutrons (the fourteen being the sum of the

Fertility is only one among the Goddess's many functions. It is inaccurate to call Paleolithic and Neolithic images 'fertility goddesses,' as is still done in archeological literature. Earth fertility became a prominent concern only in the food producing era; hence it is not a primary function of the Goddess and has nothing to do with sexuality. The goddesses were mainly life creators, not Venuses or beauties, and most definitely not wives of male gods.

Good commentaries generally are found among those produced in the last few decades. Older works, perhaps in the public domain and therefore inexpensively available, have limited value. Though perhaps written by godly men or women, many are merely random devotional observations without a grasp of the author's true meaning or flow of thought. Others, though written by competent scholars, are dated and lack the benefit of recent cultural, archeological, and grammatical studies.

Quetzalcoatl, the Feathered Serpent, [...] came to teach [the ancient inhabitants of Mexico] the benefits of settled agriculture and the skills necessary to build temples. Although this deity is frequently depicted as a serpent, he is more often shown in human form--the serpent being his symbol and his alter ego--and is usually described as "a tall bearded white man" ... "a mysterious person ... a white man with a strong formation of body, broad forehead, large eyes and a flowing beard." Indeed, [...] the attributes and life history of Quetzalcoatl are so human that it is not improbable that he may have been an actual historical character ... the memory of whose benefactions lingered after his death, and whose personality was eventually deified. The same could very well be said of Oannes--and just like Oannes at the head of the Apkallu (likewise depicted as prominently bearded) it seems that Quetzalcoatl traveled with his own brotherhood of sages and magicians. We learn that they arrived in Mexico "from across the sea in a boat that moved by itself without paddles," and that Quetzalcoatl was regarded as having been "the founder of cities, the framer of laws and the teacher of the calendar.

«Quando una civiltà è ridotta in polvere e cenere» disse, «l’arte è tutto ciò che rimane. Immagini, parole, musica. Strutture fantasiose. Il pensiero – il pensiero umano, voglio dire – è determinato da esse. Devi ammetterlo». «Non è esattamente tutto ciò che rimane» disse Crake. «Di questi tempi gli archeologi sono altrettanto interessati alle ossa rosicchiate, ai vecchi mattoni e alla merda fossilizzata. A volte anche più interessati. Credono che il pensiero umano sia determinato anche da questo».

La objetividad en el historiador es la inversion de las relaciones entre el querer y el saber y, a la vez, la creencia necesaria en la providencia, en las causas finales y en la teología. El historiador pertenece a los ascetas. "No soporto a estos concupiscentes eunucos de la historia, a todos estos reclutadores del ideal ascético; no soporto a estos sepulcros blanqueados que engendran la vida; no soporto a esos seres fatigados y abúlicos que se arropan con la sabidría y creen tener una mirada objetiva.

The city of Paris was alive in every sense, a living museum where history pulsed through every corner... Along the Seine, artists sketched beneath rows of ancient trees, their easels propped against the trunks as they captured the city’s timeless beauty.

My archeological research does not confirm the hypothetical existence of the primordial parents and their division into the Great Father and great Mother figures or the further division of the Great Mother figure into a Good and a Terrible Mother. There is no traces of a father figure in any of the Paleolithic periods. The life-creating power seems to have been of the Great Goddess alone. A complete division into a ‘good’ and a ‘terrible’ Mother never occurred: the Life Giver and the Death Wielder are one deity.

It’s remarkable how much we owe to symbols,” she said, her voice thoughtful. “Not just in communication, but in the way they shape collective memory. Think of the ankh in Egypt, or the caduceus in Mesopotamia. They weren’t just symbols; they were cultural cornerstones.

As they stepped out onto the bustling boulevard, the glow of the city lights reflected their shared sense of wonder. Paris, with its endless contradictions and eternal allure, was not just their backdrop but their muse, inspiring them to keep asking, keep seeking, and keep dreaming.

One Archeology and Decipherment Two History: Heroes, Kings, and Ensi's Three Society: The Sumerian City Four Religion: Theology, Rite, and Myth Five Literature: The Sumerian Belles-Lettres Six Education: The Sumerian School Seven Character: Drives, Motives, and Values Eight The Legacy of Sumer APPENDIXES A. The Origin and Development of the Cuneiform System of Writing B. The Sumerian Language C. Votive Inscriptions D. Sample Date-Formulas E. Sumerian King List F. Letters G. Dit lla's (court decisions) H. Lipit-Ishtar Law Code 1. Farmers' Almanac SELECTED BIBLIOGRAPHY

In agricultural communities, male leadership in the hunt ceased to be of much importance. As the discipline of the hunting band decayed, the political institutions of the earliest village settlements perhaps approximated the anarchism which has remained ever since the ideal of peaceful peasantries all round the earth. Probably religious functionaries, mediators between helpless mankind and the uncertain fertility of the earth, provided an important form of social leadership. The strong hunter and man of prowess, his occupation gone or relegated to the margins of social life, lost the umambiguous primacy which had once been his; while the comparatively tight personal subordination to a leader necessary to the success of a hunting party could be relaxed in proportion as grain fields became the center around which life revolved. Among predominantly pastoral peoples, however, religious-political institutions took a quite different turn. To protect the flocks from animal predators required the same courage and social discipline which hunters had always needed. Among pastoralists, likewise, the principal economic activity- focused, as among the earliest hunters, on a parasitic relation to animals- continued to be the special preserve of menfolk. Hence a system of patrilineal families, united into kinship groups under the authority of a chieftain responsible for daily decisions as to where to seek pasture, best fitted the conditions of pastoral life. In addition, pastoralists were likely to accord importance to the practices and discipline of war. After all, violent seizure of someone else’s animals or pasture grounds was the easiest and speediest way to wealth and might be the only means of survival in a year of scant vegetation. Such warlikeness was entirely alien to communities tilling the soil. Archeological remains from early Neolithic villages suggest remarkably peaceful societies. As long as cultivable land was plentiful, and as long as the labor of a single household could not produce a significant surplus, there can have been little incentive to war. Traditions of violence and hunting-party organization presumably withered in such societies, to be revived only when pastoral conquest superimposed upon peaceable villagers the elements of warlike organization from which civilized political institutions without exception descend.

«Si riferisce ai loro poteri magici? Vorrei, lo vorrei tanto. Ma anche così questi scavi sono incomparabili. La cultura materiale non ha nessun senso. Non esiste nessun’altra parte al mondo in cui si possa riportare alla luce quelli che sembrano oggetti della tarda antichità con bordi taglienti, reperti in bronzo bellissimi e compositi mischiati con materiale palesemente neolitico. Con questa roba è come se la stratigrafia andasse a farsi benedire. È stata usata come prova contro il matrix di Harris... erroneamente, ma capirà perché. Ecco perché questi scavi sono così popolari fra i giovani archeologi.

Ma appena un oggetto emanava noia, non avevo quasi bisogno di guardare la didascalia: era un pettine (o una maschera, o un’effigie) originaria del Vanuatu, che somigliava in modo straordinario ai pettini (o alle maschere, o alle effigi) che si vedono nel novantanove per cento dei musei di anticaglia municipale del mondo intero, dove ci tocca contemplare le eterne punte di silice o le collane di denti di cui i nostri lontani antenati hanno creduto necessario stipare le loro grotte. Esporre quel genere di cose mi è sempre sembrato assurdo, come se gli archeologi del futuro si mettessero in testa di esporre le nostre forchette di plastica e i nostri piatti di carta.

So far as we know, Jesus did not write anything, nor did anyone who had personal knowledge of him. There is no archaeological evidence of his existence. There are no contemporaneous accounts of his life or death: no eyewitness accounts, nor any other kind of first-hand record. All the accounts of Jesus come from decades or centuries later; the gospels themselves all come from later times, though they may contain earlier sources or oral traditions. The earliest writings that survive are the letters of Paul of Tarsus, written 20-30 years after the dates given for Jesus's death. Paul was not a companion of Jesus, nor does he ever claim to have seen Jesus before his death.

After sweeping all of Mr. Martinez’s bones into the metal bin, I carried them over to the other side of the crematory and poured them along a long, flat tray. The tray, similar to the kind used on archeological digs, was used to search for various metal items that people had embedded in their bodies during their lifetimes. The metal I was looking for could be anything from knee and hip implants to metal dentures. The metal had to be removed because the final step in the cremation process was placing the bones into the waiting Cremulator. “The Cremulator” sounds like a cartoon villain or the name of a monster truck but is in fact the name of what is essentially a bone blender, roughly the size of a kitchen crockpot.

In the hard life of politics it is well known that no platform nor any program advanced by either major American party has any purpose beyond expressing emotion. Platforms are a ritual with a history of their own and, after being written, they are useful chiefly to scholars who dissect them as archeological political remains. The writing of a platform does indeed flatter many people, gives many pressure groups a chance to blow off steam in public, permits the leaders of such pressure groups to report back to their memberships of their valiant efforts to persuade. But in actual fact, all platforms are meaningless: the program of either party is what lies in the vision and conscience of the candidate the party chooses to lead it. Nevertheless,

Being the High Priest I have the duty of shepherding my flock, and since proselytizing is illegal, I must do so by more subversive means. I opened my school under the throne of King Nebuchadnezzar, I taught mathematics, science, astronomy, archeology, antiquities, languages, and fingers to lips (theology). I tootled the Kings children, as well as those of the nobles, I also taught the Hebrew servants. There were four young men who stood out among the others Belteshazzar, whose Hebrew name was Daniel, and his three friends Hananiah, Mishael, and Azariah. These men were already well versed in many disciplines and made discussions a delight. They were devout men who chose not to defile themselves with the royal rations and wine. Daniel had the gift of Yoseph he could interpret dreams.

Le illustrazioni sono di Marsh Davies. Due di esse – il Giovane servo e la Regina sacerdotessa – sono ispirate a veri reperti archeologici dell’antica città di Mohenjo-Daro, nella valle dell’Indo (anche se ovviamente non avevano pezzi di iPad attaccati). Non sappiamo molto sulla cultura di Mohenjo-Daro – alcuni reperti suggeriscono che fosse completamente egualitaria secondo modalità davvero interessanti. Ma nonostante la mancanza di un contesto, gli archeologi che le hanno rinvenute hanno denominato Re sacerdote la testa in steatite riprodotta a pag. 287, mentre hanno chiamato Danzatrice la figura femminile in bronzo riprodotta a pag. 286. Portano tuttora questi stessi nomi. A volte penso che per trasmettere tutto il senso di questo libro potrebbero bastare questi fatti e queste due illustrazioni.

Midwestern farmers bred the horses the city required—haphazardly at first, but with increasing expertise at selective improvement as the century advanced. By far the most popular workhorse in the United States was the Percheron, a breed that originated in the Perche region of France, about fifty miles southwest of Paris. Although it was long claimed that the Percheron breed was shaped in the Middle Ages when native Perche mares were bred with Arabian stallions brought back from the Crusades, no evidence other than oral tradition supports the claim. Some archeological evidence identifies the type as having Neolithic antecedents.8 All modern Percheron bloodlines trace to a warhorse named Jean Le Blanc, foaled in Le Perche in 1823 when Perche breeders were breeding a heavier horse for the American trade.

Mi chiederai prima di tutto che cosa sia. “Non un altro arido volume di storia,” ti avevo promesso. Dopo gli ultimi quattro libri mi sono reso conto che nessun lettore comune può trovare interessante arrancare tra infiniti cumuli di prove scientifiche, nessuno può appassionarsi ai dettagli tecnici delle datazioni o alla comparazione degli strati. Ho visto gli sguardi del pubblico smarrirsi mentre cercavo di spiegare le mie ricerche. Cosí, ciò che ho voluto tentare questa volta è una specie di ibrido, qualcosa che spero risulti piú attraente per i non specialisti. Non propriamente storia, non propriamente romanzo. Una sorta di rappresentazione romanzata di quella che gli archeologi ritengono la narrazione piú plausibile. Ho incluso alcune illustrazioni di reperti archeologici che spero risultino suggestive, ma i lettori sono liberi di saltarle, come sono certo che faranno in tanti.

Gunung Padang is not a natural hill but a man-made pyramid and the origins of construction here go back long before the end of the last Ice Age. Since the work is massive even at the deepest levels, and bears witness to the kinds of sophisticated construction skills that were deployed to build the pyramids of Egypt, or the largest megalithic sites of Europe, I can only conclude that we're looking at the work of a lost civilization and a fairly advanced one.

We are used to things starting out small and simple and then progressing--evolving--to become ever more complex and sophisticated, so this is naturally what we expect to find on archaeological sites. It upsets our carefully structured ideas of how civilizations should behave, how they should mature and develop, when we are confronted by a case like Göbekli Tepe that starts out perfect at the beginning and then slowly devolves until it is just a pale shadow of its former self.

So, what have the redactors left us? They replaced El with Yahweh and soon erased Asherah. She ends up being Yahweh’s consort for a while and then Baal’s consort so she can be demonized along with him and the rest of the host of heaven. We are left with only hints of the divine feminine—the tree of life in the garden of Eden, wisdom (Sophia) as the fruit-bearing tree of life to those who lay hold of her, the prophetess and judge Deborah rendering her judgements under her tree. Some of the redactions are almost blatantly obvious. For example, in Genesis 49:25, the male god bestows “blessings of the breasts and of the womb.” In Deuteronomy 32:18, there is a reference to the male “god who gave you birth.” We have also lost much of Asherah in the archeological record because most of her representations were trees and carved wooden images—items from the natural world that can easily be cut down and burned. But traces of her can still be found there. -Excerpt from “Roots Too Deep for the Redactors,” featured in, Asherah: Roots of the Mother Tree.

Once I went professionally to an archaeological expedition- and I learnt something there. In the course of an excavation, when something comes up out of the ground, evEryThing is cleared away very carefully all around it. You take away the loose earth, and you scare here and there with a knife until finally your object is there, all alone, ready to be drawn and photographed with no extraneous matter confusing it. That is what I have been seeking TO do- clear away the extraneous matter so that we can see the truth-the naked shining truth.

Let us pause for a moment and consider the structure of the atom as we know it now. Every atom is made from three kinds of elementary particles: protons, which have a positive electrical charge; electrons, which have a negative electrical charge; and neutrons, which have no charge. Protons and neutrons are packed into the nucleus, while electrons spin around outside. The number of protons is what gives an atom its chemical identity. An atom with one proton is an atom of hydrogen, one with two protons is helium, with three protons is lithium, and so on up the scale. Each time you add a proton you get a new element. (Because the number of protons in an atom is always balanced by an equal number of electrons, you will sometimes see it written that it is the number of electrons that defines an element; it comes to the same thing. The way it was explained to me is that protons give an atom its identity, electrons its personality.) Neutrons don't influence an atom's identity, but they do add to its mass. The number of neutrons is generally about the same as the number of protons, but they can vary up and down slightly. Add a neutron or two and you get an isotope. The terms you hear in reference to dating techniques in archeology refer to isotopes—carbon-14, for instance, which is an atom of carbon with six protons and eight neutrons (the fourteen being the sum of the two). Neutrons and protons occupy the atom's nucleus. The nucleus of an atom is tiny—only one millionth of a billionth of the full volume of the atom—but fantastically dense, since it contains virtually all the atom's mass. As Cropper has put it, if an atom were expanded to the size of a cathedral, the nucleus would be only about the size of a fly—but a fly many thousands of times heavier than the cathedral. It was this spaciousness—this resounding, unexpected roominess—that had Rutherford scratching his head in 1910. It is still a fairly astounding notion to consider that atoms are mostly empty space, and that the solidity we experience all around us is an illusion. When two objects come together in the real world—billiard balls are most often used for illustration—they don't actually strike each other. “Rather,” as Timothy Ferris explains, “the negatively charged fields of the two balls repel each other . . . were it not for their electrical charges they could, like galaxies, pass right through each other unscathed.” When you sit in a chair, you are not actually sitting there, but levitating above it at a height of one angstrom (a hundred millionth of a centimeter), your electrons and its electrons implacably opposed to any closer intimacy.

What would have made [seeing Göbekli Tepe from Harran] easier, in antiquity, would have been a tall tower annexed to the temple that once stood here--a temple dedicated to Su-En (usually contracted to Sin), the Moon God of the Sabians. After telling us that there were "powerful images in this temple," the Greek Philosopher Libanius (AD 314-394), describes the tower, noting that "from its top one could overlook the entire plain of Harran." [...] A team from the Chicago Oriental Institute was about to start a major dig around the ruins of the Grand Mosque in 1986, but it seems that the Turkish authorities insisted on such restrictive practices that the project had to be abandoned. Current excavations by Harran University and the Sanliurfa Museum Directorate show little interest in recovery of substantive remains from the city's pre-Islamic period.

Chapter 1, “Esoteric Antiquarianism,” situates Egyptian Oedipus in its most important literary contexts: Renaissance Egyptology, including philosophical and archeological traditions, and early modern scholarship on paganism and mythology. It argues that Kircher’s hieroglyphic studies are better understood as an antiquarian rather than philosophical enterprise, and it shows how much he shared with other seventeenth-century scholars who used symbolism and allegory to explain ancient imagery. The next two chapters chronicle the evolution of Kircher’s hieroglyphic studies, including his pioneering publications on Coptic. Chapter 2, “How to Get Ahead in the Republic of Letters,” treats the period from 1632 until 1637 and tells the story of young Kircher’s decisive encounter with the arch-antiquary Peiresc, which revolved around the study of Arabic and Coptic manuscripts. Chapter 3, “Oedipus in Rome,” continues the narrative until 1655, emphasizing the networks and institutions, especially in Rome, that were essential to Kircher’s enterprise. Using correspondence and archival documents, this pair of chapters reconstructs the social world in which Kircher’s studies were conceived, executed, and consumed, showing how he forged his career by establishing a reputation as an Oriental philologist. The next four chapters examine Egyptian Oedipus and Pamphilian Obelisk through a series of thematic case studies. Chapter 4, “Ancient Theology and the Antiquarian,” shows in detail how Kircher turned Renaissance occult philosophy, especially the doctrine of the prisca theologia, into a historical framework for explaining antiquities. Chapter 5, “The Discovery of Oriental Antiquity,” looks at his use of Oriental sources, focusing on Arabic texts related to Egypt and Hebrew kabbalistic literature. It provides an in-depth look at the modus operandi behind Kircher’s imposing edifice of erudition, which combined bogus and genuine learning. Chapter 6, “Erudition and Censorship,” draws on archival evidence to document how the pressures of ecclesiastical censorship shaped Kircher’s hieroglyphic studies. Readers curious about how Kircher actually produced his astonishing translations of hieroglyphic inscriptions will find a detailed discussion in chapter 7, “Symbolic Wisdom in an Age of Criticism,” which also examines his desperate effort to defend their reliability. This chapter brings into sharp focus the central irony of Kircher’s project: his unyielding antiquarian passion to explain hieroglyphic inscriptions and discover new historical sources led him to disregard the critical standards that defined erudite scholarship at its best. The book’s final chapter, “Oedipus at Large,” examines the reception of Kircher’s hieroglyphic studies through the eighteenth century in relation to changing ideas about the history of civilization.

How will that infrastructure, that secret of secrets this side of our theses and our theory, be able in turn to rest upon the acts of absolute consciousness? Does the descent into the realm of our 'archeology' leave our analytical tools intact? Does it make no changes at all in our conception of noesis, noema, and intentiomality--in our ontology? After we have made this descent, are we still entitled to seek in an analytics of acts what upholds our own and the world's life without appeal? We know that Husserl never made himself too clear about these questions. A few words are there like indicators pointing to the problem--signaling unthought-of elements to think about. To begin with, the element of a 'pre-theoretical constitution,' which is charged with accounting for 'pre-givens,' those kernels of meaning about which man and the world gravitate. We may with equal truth say of these pre-givens (as Husserl says of the body) either that they are always 'already constituted' for us or that they are 'never completely constituted'—in short, that consciousness is always behind or ahead of them, never contemporaneous. Husserl was undoubtedly thinking of these singular beings when in another connection he evoked a constitution which would not proceed by grasping a content as an exemplification of a meaning or an essence (Auffassungsinhalt-Auffassung als . . .) , an operating or latent intentionality like that which animates time, more ancient than the intentionality of human acts. There must be beings for us which are not yet kept in being by the centrifugal activity of consciousness: significations it does not spontaneously confer upon contents, and contents which participate obliquely in a meaning in the sense that they indicate a meaning which remains a distant meaning and which is not yet legible in them as the monogram or stamp of thetic consciousness. In such cases we do still have a grouping of intentional threads around certain knots which govern them, but the series of retro-references (Rückdeutungen) which lead us ever deeper could not possibly reach completion in the intellectual possession of a noema. There is an ordered sequence of steps, but it is without end as it is without beginning.

Where paleontologists look back through the fossil record for skeletal precursors of wings and tails, molecular biologists and biophysicists look for telltale relics of DNA in hemoglobin, oncogenes, and all the rest of the library of proteins and enzymes. “There is a molecular archeology in the making,” says Werner Loewenstein. The history of life is written in terms of negative entropy. “What actually evolves is information in all its forms or transforms. If there were something like a guidebook for living creatures, I think, the first line would read like a biblical commandment, Make thy information larger.

The illustrations are by Marsh Davies. Two of them—the "Serving Boy" and 'Priestess Queen"—are based on the actual archeological finds from the ancient city of Mohenjo-Daro in the Indus Valley (although obviously without bits of iPad attached). We don't know much about the culture of Mohenjo-Daro—there are some findings that suggest that they may have been fairly egalitarian in some interesting ways. But despite the lack of context, the archeologists who unearthed them called the soapstone head illustrated here "Priest King," while they named the bronze female figure here "Dancing Girl." They're still called by those names. Sometimes I think the whole of this book could be communicated with just this set of facts and illustrations.

I am only offering to my reader an opportunity to expand their thoughts and maybe reach a deeper understanding of a particular word used in our English Bible. To build in you the same desire that this dusty old biblical language teacher has of reaching a deeper understanding of God’s Word through the guidance of the Holy Spirit. I do admit to being speculative in many of my conclusions and ask the reader to keep this in mind as they read this book. However, my speculations are based upon my biased personal experience with a God that I believe with all my heart loves me and that I love in return and hold dear as life itself. It would do well for orthodox Christians, those who embrace the Word of God as truly inspired and God-breathed, to follow the ongoing research and latest discoveries from archeology and the Dead Sea Scrolls. Many scholars do this research for academic reasons, and hence the subtle “I love you” message from God may go totally unnoticed to them, but not to one whose heart is seeking those words for the God that they also love.

work is to register the improvisational nature of experience, it must be as spontaneous and self-surprising as the human mind itself. Aware, as Freud later puts it, that “in mental life nothing which has once been formed can perish,” Melville also knew that by concealing the existence of earlier versions of his work, he ran the risk of falsifying himself.* In this sense, Moby-Dick was like an active archeological site in which the layers of its own history are left deliberately exposed.

Getting back to this map stone, I thought they found archeological evidence that Vinland was up in Newfoundland, not near Cape Cod.” In the 1970s amateur archeologists, ignoring the skepticism of the professionals, uncovered a Viking settlement in L’Anse aux Meadows. “There’s just one problem with that site — there are no grapes growing that far north.” “No grapes, no Vinland. I get it.

Uncovering the past was like uncovering some archeological remains, best done slowly with a fine brush, time’s work being so fragile.

Staggering in scope and breadth, 'God 4.0' is the culmination of Ornstein’s work on the psychology of consciousness. Connecting the latest research from archeology, religious history, psychology and brain science, the authors extend a timely invitation to explore a latent, intuitive faculty we all share – one that can moves us beyond belief, faith, and doctrine to a wider perception of who we are and who we could become. — David D. Sobel, MD, MPH, Stanford University School of Medicine

God 4.0' is a stunning tour de force of erudition, deftly summarizing forty thousand years of the human search for spiritual transcendence – via the painted caves of the Ice Age shamans, the Neolithic megaliths and Mesopotamian ziggurats, and the soaring Medieval cathedrals and mosques. The second half of the book turns inward to describe the structures and processes of the human brain that foster transcendence, and the factors that interfere with it. Robert and Sally Ornstein make an ideal team for this collaboration, Sally a painter and publisher of children’s books, and Robert a psychologist and neuroscientist. The result is a brilliant guided expedition through reams of archeological and neurological research, with the authors highlighting in easily understood language the important discoveries and developments in our perennial quest for meaning and purpose. — Lisa Alther, novelist and author of four New York Times best sellers

There’s the horror-movie version: a shadow with a knife, the one who escaped from the hospital on the hill during that storm. It’s the person living in the walls. In mystery novels, it might be the smiling stranger, the one with the passing knowledge of poisons. It’s the relative left out of the will, or the one recently added to it. It’s the jealous colleague at the museum who wants to be the first to announce the new archeological discovery. It’s the overly helpful person who follows the detective around. On the all-murder, true-crime channel, it’s the new neighbor with the boat, the one in his midforties to midfifties with the tan who has no past and who recently purchased a human-sized cooler. It’s the person who lives in the shack in the woods. It’s the unseen figure on the corner of the street. On all crime shows, it’s usually the third person the cops interview. It’s the one you sort of think it is. In life, the murderer is anyone. The reasons, the methods, the circumstances—the paths to becoming a murderer are as numerous as the stars. Understanding this is the first step to finding a murderer. You have to shut down the voices in your mind that say, “It has to be this person.” Murderers aren’t a type. They’re anyone.

A historian reveals that excavations at Adichanalu determine that Thirai Meelar which means sea farers traveled across continents. It was considered a talent to be able to return back to the home turf. The reading led toward another instance of beauty. Tamil sailors used the same technique as sea-turtles to return home. Sea-turtles floated along sea currents but did not swim in oceans. I sit like a harbinger of tides along the coast, unaware of the migration or home, in search of sea-turtles.

We have increased our population to the level of 7 billion and beyond. We are well on our way toward 9 billion before our growth trend is likely to flatten. We live at high densities in many cities. We have penetrated, and we continue to penetrate, the last great forests and other wild ecosystems of the planet, disrupting the physical structures and the ecological communities of such places. We cut our way through the Congo. We cut our way through the Amazon. We cut our way through Borneo. We cut our way through Madagascar. We cut our way through New Guinea and northeastern Australia. We shake the trees, figuratively and literally, and things fall out. We kill and butcher and eat many of the wild animals found there. We settle in those places, creating villages, work camps, towns, extractive industries, new cities. We bring in our domesticated animals, replacing the wild herbivores with livestock. We multiply our livestock as we've multiplied ourselves, operating huge factory-scale operations involving thousands of cattle, pigs, chickens, ducks, sheep, and goats, not to mention hundreds of bamboo rats and palm civets, all confined en masse within pens and corrals, under conditions that allow those domestics and semidomestics to acquire infectious pathogens from external sources (such as bats roosting over the pig pens), to share those infections with one another, and to provide abundant opportunities for the pathogens to evolve new forms, some of which are capable of infecting a human as well as a cow or a duck. We treat many of those stock animals with prophylactic doses of antibiotics and other drugs, intended not to cure them but to foster their weight gain and maintain their health just sufficiently for profitable sale and slaughter, and in doing that we encourage the evolution of resistant bacteria. We export and import livestock across great distances and at high speeds. We export and import other live animals, especially primates, for medical research. We export and import wild animals as exotic pets. We export and import animal skins, contraband bushmeat, and plants, some of which carry secret microbial passengers. We travel, moving between cities and continents even more quickly than our transported livestock. We stay in hotels where strangers sneeze and vomit. We eat in restaurants where the cook may have butchered a porcupine before working on our scallops. We visit monkey temples in Asia, live markets in India, picturesque villages in South America, dusty archeological sites in New Mexico, dairy towns in the Netherlands, bat caves in East Africa, racetracks in Australia – breathing the air, feeding the animals, touching things, shaking hands with the friendly locals – and then we jump on our planes and fly home. We get bitten by mosquitoes and ticks. We alter the global climate with our carbon emissions, which may in turn alter the latitudinal ranges within which those mosquitoes and ticks live. We provide an irresistible opportunity for enterprising microbes by the ubiquity and abundance of our human bodies. Everything I’ve just mentioned is encompassed within this rubric: the ecology and evolutionary biology of zoonotic diseases. Ecological circumstance provides opportunity for spillover. Evolution seizes opportunity, explores possibilities, and helps convert spillovers to pandemics.

it is interesting to investigate how the mezuzah was turned onto an amulet which can guard the house against evil.[171] Historical and archeological research found that pagan nations from Mesopotamia used to mark their entries with different kinds of “mezuzahs”, which carried symbols of idols. Amulets of this kind were also found in Egypt, where this practice was made in order to keep the inhabitants of the home from all sorts of evil.[172

the charmer. He schmoozed people. I was great at identifying a piece and could authenticate an artifact, but people didn’t like me. I had very little people skills. I was a nerd. I loved reading and studying. I had double-majored in college because I loved the idea of making money and I loved archeology. Unfortunately, the two were mutually exclusive. That led me to become an antiquities dealer. I never had to doubt what I was buying was the real thing. Alec was also an archeological sciences major, and when I couldn’t verify the authenticity of a piece, he could. We could divide and conquer. I sent him all around

Archeology gives me the chance to see where man has been and lets me question where man is headed.

Criticism is no longer going to be practiced in the search for formal structures with universal value, but rather as a historical investigation into the events that have led us to constitute ourselves and to recognize ourselves as subjects of what we are doing, thinking, saying. In that sense, this criticism is not transcendental and its goal is not that of making a metaphysics possible: it is genealogical in its design and archeological in its method.

There is archeological evidence that Neanderthals manufactured stone tools requiring cognitive skill and dexterity,[31] made fire on demand,[32] sailed from mainland Europe to Crete and the Ionian Islands,[33] produced glue from the bark of the birch tree,[34] and appear to have treated maladies with medicinal plants that had anesthetic and antibiotic properties: traces of DNA from poplar trees, which contain salicylic acid—the naturally occurring inspiration for the synthetic aspirin, and Penicillium mold, the source of penicillin—have been found in the calcified plaque of Neanderthals.[

You expect the process of writing to be like architecture; you lay your foundation and you build your walls around it. But when I write, I find it to be more akin to archeology. It’s as if the book is out there written somewhere and I am just slowly uncovering it, even if it's just one speck of dust at a time.

Shipwrecks, Science, Salvage or Scrap,” produced by Derek Towers. This was #8 in what was probably the best series on underwater archeology ever produced.

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I guess we'll become an archeological find, funded by some alien at some distant time

Everyone has a book in them we just need to find out how to get it out

Scavando scavando, poi, ogni tanto si trovava della roba. C’erano degli archeologi di Roma – professoroni come il Lugli o anche Carlo Alberto Blanc – che passo passo ogni tanto seguivano lo scavo. A Torre Annibalda, dalle parti di ponte Marchi, furono trovati dei mosaici romani raffiguranti alcuni nuotatori. Smontarono e portarono via tutto, ma non si sa più in quale museo sono finiti. Dispersi. Dalle parti di Borgo Santa Maria invece – allora si chiamava Gnìf Gnàf, perché c’era un pantano in cui, camminando, le scarpe o anche i piedi scalzi facevano sempre «Gnìf-gnàf» – Blanc trovò sul fronte dello scavo, proprio poco prima che le benne del Tosi se lo portassero via, uno scheletro completo di mammut. Ma generalmente – per i muri, le tombe o i cocci di minore importanza – gli archeologi dicevano, essendo romani: «Vabbene va’, non è importante, andate pure avanti». E che bisognava fare se no? Noi dovevamo fare una bonifica, mica potevamo stare a pensare ai cocci. Se avessimo fatto anche noi come la metropolitana a Roma, «Staressimo ancora tutti sott’acqua» diceva mio zio Adelchi.

It's so beautiful,” she whispers, face tilted up toward the domed ceiling and walls covered in the fractured rainbows. “Do you think they knew?” She finally tears her gaze away, just enough to look up at me. “Knew what beauty was?” My heart's slamming against my chest, and it's not just that I'm holding her in my arms again, that I'm gazing down at her, her mouth only a breath from mine. It's that in this instant, she's me, back in Valencia. Opening herself to exploration. To curiosity. It's not just that for a moment she's sharing in my thrill of discovery. She's experiencing it. She understands. As she reaches out across the millennia to the Undying, to wonder if they knew what beauty was, to wonder why they created something so delicate and perfect, she's opening her mind to all the possibilities they represent. She's communicating with them, by picking up the stories they left behind and adding her own words, asking her own questions. This is what I do – what exploration and archeology is – and in this moment, Mia's in it with me.

Hmmm, it is a small pelvis with a very ample sub-pubic angle; at least ninety degrees...the bones are delicate, fine, graceful...hmmm..." With certainty born of profound expertise and his uncanny ability to dialogue with bones, Romano stated his conclusion without touching anything. "It is a woman." (Arturo Romano Pacheco, physical anthropologist)

The fullest account we have of Oannes is found in surviving fragments of the works of a Babylonian priest called Berossos who wrote in the third century BC. [...] Oannes did not do his work alone but was supposedly the leader of a group of beings known as the Seven Apkallu--the "Seven Sages"--who were said to have lived "before the flood" (a cataclysmic global deluge features prominently in many Mesopotamian traditions, including those of Sumer, Akkad, Assyria and Babylon). Alongside Oannes, these sages are portrayed as bringers of civilization who, in the most ancient past, gave humanity a moral code, arts, crafts and agriculture and taught them architectural, building and engineering skills.

[At Gunung Padang] First, the drill cores contained evidence--fragments of worked columnar basalt--that more man-made megalithic structures lay far beneath the surface. Secondly, the organic materials brought up in the drill cores began to yield older and older dates--3000 BC to 5000 BC, then 9600 BC as the drills bit deeper, then around 11,000 BC, then 15,000 BC and finally, at depths of 27.5 meters (90 feet) and more, an astonishing sequence of dates of 20,000 BC to 22,000 BC and earlier.