Johnny Sarampion, Archaeologist, Breaks Down

Where is my mind? Where Is My Mind? WHERE IS MY MIND? Way out in the water, see it swimming. (With many thanks to Mr. Black - I had a real moment with you Frank.)

Sometimes I look at archaeology reports and wonder if all the original folks ever did was sit around and make pottery all day, like pottery-obsessed Rainmen. All we ever talk about is pottery. Pottery and middens. The middens, of course, being made of pottery.

"We thought only the Orange culture of the St. John's Valley made pottery, but look! the Weeden Island related Manasota culture did too! Joy!"

I really don't know why this is bothering me today. It never has before. Maybe I'm not bothered at all, but just thought I'd make the observation. Sometimes, however, it highlights the fact that we have no clue about the meaning of life. Or if there is a meaning at all... Okay, it doesn't say anything about the meaning of life. So sue me.

Anyway, we think it's all about consumerism today, but we ain't got shit on those pottery-making fools from the Late Archaic period. Like real pottery whores. I mean, useful as pottery is, there's no reason to be giving it up all over the village.