Natugle

Ville gerne være A
men jeg er faktisk B
fordi det er om natten
mine øjne bedst kan C


Night Owl
Would like to be an A
but actually I'm B
Because it is at nighttime
that the eyes of mine best C

The art of buying a mobile phone

FOR F***'s SAKE, all I want is a telephone that works. Well and long.
But I am unwillingly drawn into this unnavigable jungle of merchandise galore. Trapped here, lost in the grasping arms of the marketing world, grabbing at me with sticky claws trying to pound my brain.
But NO you f***ers - you won't get ME.

In fact just the opposite. I want to escape as soon as possible.

As soon as I have found a telephone that:

• Saves a list of numbers so that I have to dial only a few buttons to call somebody


• Has wonderfully durable keys that don't get stuck after 6 months of continuous sms'ing


• Is Dirt-, Dust- and Drool proof


• Weighs less than a brick in my pocket


• Has a camera to document whatever I feel like documenting in a reasonable quality


• A relatively simple button navigation system


• Has colour screen - a feature I've learned to appreciate after resisting for as many years as my 3210 lasted´


• Is relatively inexpensive and without ties!

I was happy with a Nokia 3210 for many years. It was the most durable phone I've ever had.

Unfortunately I had to get rid of it the day it needed a new pad of keys as every single shop attendant smiled pittyfully at me telling me that I was asking for accessories for a model no longer in production. As if that was somehting to be pittied for!

I do NOT want:

A telephone priced around 1000 euros with a fancy name made in a fancy high tech space material (for f'***s sake, you can actually get phones made of titanium, glass and CARBON!) or even worse, a phone which features a gemstone navigation key and a soft leather finish !!!!

And especially not a phone described as, well, can you believe it: "A harmony of sensual and sensory experience (hmm, have to check the specifications if it has somehting to do with it's vibrator??)... reflecting the creative inspiration behind this modern masterpiece" - sounds like the 8th wonder of the world, how will they top this next year?? Phone with built-in spaceship?

- The carbon phone even has intuitive capacities:"The living wall paper continues to glow and grow intuitively" Well, you keep that paper inside the phone, wouldn't have a glowing and growing paper on MY walls! Especially not if it's growth is intuitively motivated. Who knows what a wall paper's intuition is up to?

So, if anybody has a suggestion to a proper purchase for my needs (listed above) it would be most wellcome, thank you.

And don't tell me the CK 800 from China

as I have no desire to drop it from a 100m scaffold or dive with it under water...

My Inner Man

Last week I had an encounter with a long lost friend.

For more than two years we have not seen each other.
The fault is mine, beeing busy with motherhood mostly.

I did not realise that I had actually missed this guy so much until we met at the excavation trench in Poland, where I had come to participate in the annual season of the Weklice excavation. He had come along without my knowledge and appeared the minute I had dressed myself in knee-padded work pants, wife-beater and shovel in hand.

The guy I'm taliking about is:

MY INNER MAN

Of course, it's not the clothes that do it alone. My Inner Man moves in certain ways.
He likes exurting big bursts of energy using the shovel full power when shifting dirt.
But it is in my body, the back ache lingers afterwards.
His walk is like a cross-over between Homer Simpson and John Wayne. Where I myself am rather talkative and a strong believer in dialogue, The Man is of few words and prefers to shovel in silence.

After a hard days work he will consume a rather significant quantity of beer.
My womanly self may get tipsy and giggly from a single beer on an empty stomach, but the man easily gulps two or three beers between work and dinner without even getting the least bit weary. And we are not talking regular beers as in friendly, green, Danish 33 cl bottles.

In Poland (at lest in the small village shops that I frequent) beer does not come in bottles holding less than a pint, displaying an alcohol percentage of 5 +.
The Man and I always purchase five at the time, as five is the only number I can pronounce properly in Polish...
(piénc piw)

Unfortunately The Man has no physical body of his own, so the hangover is banging in my womanly head and can hardly be held inside my (158cm) body the following day.

Although The Man is both silent, grumpy and even sometimes rude, he is a dearly beloved and long lost friend, whom I sincerely hope to see much more of in the future.

PS! The Man also has a rather different taste in music than I do: he likes Polish Folk-Ska-Punk such as Lao Che (named after the Chinese crook in the 2nd. Indiana Jones film). He tought me to enjoy it after listening to it daily in the car on the way to work:

Just Love

Cheddarost Galore

Firstly, an apology to any non-Danish speaking(reading) readers of this blog which has yielded very little archaeology lately (as has my life in general).

As I have already warned you that this blog may also contain occasional scribbles of other thoughts too, the following falls into exactly that category. And as the thoughts on this subject are in Danish, so be the text...

But, as you can see in keywords, it's about a 2-year old, his grandmother and .... cheese.

To-årig ved frokostbordet i min mors sommerhus: MERE ÅÅÅÅÅST! MER ÅÅÅÅST! Dette gentages og udtales efter indtagelse af allerede voldsomme mængder af et orangefarvet mælkeprodukt, som smager glimrende i moderate mængder - s.k. Cheddar Ost.

Barnet får sin åååååsst for 5. gang. Denne gang udleveret af sin bedstemor, eftersom moderen (ego sum) allerede har sagt

Vist en (indtil barnets eksistens ukendt) naturlov, at bedsteforældres mening overruler dette - i alt. De rangerer højere i hierakiet end selv den allerfremste forskning på fødevareområdet.
Også hvad angår røde pølser, lakridser, hyperaktivitetsfremkaldende farvestoffer m.v.

Men det vil man jo ikke bare lade uhørt gå hen. Så moderen (moi) udtaler, at "NU har han fået NOK ost og han skal IKKE have mere".
Min mor kigger op fra tallerknen og svarer: "Hvorfor det? Er du bange for, at han skal blive for OST'ET?"

!!! Touché.

Altså, det rigtige svar er, at jeg ikke kan tro, det er sundt at indtage over 2% af sin egen kropsvægt i ost i ét hug - slet ikke suspekt, non-økologisk, biobehandlet s.k. Cheddar ost - i en alder af lige godt 2 år. Nå.

Foruden selvfølgelig, at det altid er væsentligt at manifestere sig overfor sin mor/barns bedstemor, selvom man selvfølgelig ikke ønsker at involvere toårigt barn i eventuelle omvendt-ødipale moder-konflikter.

Direkte i al fald.

Det var bare det, jeg ville sige. Hej.

Copenhagen summer night

Last night as I cycled home, I let my hands go and rode free in the warm summer breeze.


Darkness and lights


after a night with these 2


in Nyhavn full of tourists and tiny flies.


Saw dad in lovely bright yellow thai shirt playing jazz by the anchor.


Pictures are taken with no-good-phone.
Will throw it away as keys get stuck and nobody can hear me properly in it.


Home where light under my name welcomed me.

Good night Copenhagen summer light

I love...

The following post is a declaration of love.

It is not a declaration of love for any man - as I am not currently (mutually) in love with any man to my knowledge.
Neither is it a declaration of love for my son - who does indeed deserve one, as he is and will always be the greatest love I know.

This is a declaration of love for a treasured part of my household.
One that I became acquainted with for the first time in my life at the mature age of 33, and promise I will never let go of ever.

Someone who is always there, always stable and trustworthy.
Someone who always and without the faintest complaint does the dirty job.
Someone who is my perfect match as he does something which I loathe but is his raison d' être.
After the day has finished and I go to sleep - this guy goes to work.
I LOVE my dishwashing machine

As the perfect household partner he operates silently, discretely without any sound other than a pleasant, melodic humming. Making me happy when i wake up in the morning (...good to wake up to, uuhhmmm, clean dishes...).


I may be accused of abusing this loved one a little.
Laziness makes people creative - right? So tonight the dishwasher is doing not only dishes but also LEGO bricks. Hope it turns out well...

Other work this guy has done excellently includes lamps - (there even exist dishwasher safe crystal chandeliers), a ventilation filter and oil-sticky baby bath toys (generally - make sure to buy dish washer safe toys. Only not teddybears; they go in the washingmachine instead).

Even the dishwashing brush is as new after a ride in the dishwasher - need I mention that the brush really is totally superflous with a machine like mine in the house.

My next project is to see how it works with sunglasses. I'm optismistic as glass always gets amazingly clear in the washer.

Basically the only thing I wouldn't wash in it is textiles (good we have other machines for that) - or my hair.

Dishwashing machines are good to the environment too. They use much less water than washing up by hand plus you actually don't have to pre-rinse, do save that water too.

Recently I read in a comment to a post at Martin Rundkvists Aardvarchaeology, that ANTS should be magnificent dish cleaners. Says Lassi Hippeläinen: ....Since they were in the kitchen, I put them to work. As an old trekker I know they can dry-clean the dishes better than soap&water. Once the job is done, the ants are gone.

That is one way of cleaning dishes that might have a future. Just think, totally environmentally friendly waterless, eco biological - and completely mute - dish cleaning. There must be a future in that stuff. Hello, any dishwashing-engineers reading here?



♥♥♥To my dishwasher - parce que vous le valez bien♥♥♥

Nude or Prude?

In its' essence all nudity is natural. Nudity only becomes unnatural when cultural norms infect our views on it.

The newly released video for "goobledigook" by Sigur Rós is a wonderful example of natural and beautyful nudity. It celebrates happiness, innocence, freedom and youth.
The video features a bunch of young people running around in a forest, jumping in the water and just being very sort of primate-ish, joyful and young. Yes, they are undressed, and there are even erotic scenes in it. But from my point of view, it is in no way at all pornographic.

Yet the video has been removed from youtube! And worse: it has been substituted with an amputated version where the background scenes are playing but all the naked people have been cut out. A very strange sight.

So please do yourself the favour of going to the website of Sigur Rós to download the complete version (quicktime player). The music is GREAT and gets you in a happy mood!

Where in the world are we, having youtube censoring an innocent video celebrating LIFE just because it contains naked people?

I believe in dialogue rather than censorship.
There are filters that parents can apply if they want to hinder their children in catching porn on their computer. But no filter in the world can replace a sensible conversation.

WHY this fear of nudity?

Paddy K tells us in his blog on Naked Sweden that it was common to see topless girls sunbathing in the parks ten years ago. But now it is no longer so.

Women no longer feel comfortable showing the upper part of their bodies in public (except for the brave few actionating for the right of both genders to show up bare chested at public swimming pools).

We also learn from Paddy K's blog, that a lot of people (see comments on his post) are especially uncomfortable with nakedness of people that are concidered less fortunate from an aesthetic point of view (referred to as "albino whales").

I find it interesting that fear of nudity has increased simultaneously with the increase of sexualization of public space.

At bus-stops, public walls, poster-stands and magazine covers, bodies in suggestive positions - artificially altered to perfection - are thrown into our vision. On tv, in music and in films we are confronted with booty-shaking, shiny-legged teen popsters along side stick-skinny 40+ stars with volumptious (restylane boosted) lips that still look 21 - only better.


And I wonder if not the porn industry has its' share in the growing fashion of removing "other hair" (like for example.... chest waxing...) and other, more drastic bodily alterations?

Anyhow, with all this bodily "perfection" and sexualization that we are bombarded with from all sides on a daily basis, it is no wonder that women are covering up and men might feel uncomfortable with their own and especially other peoples' less than perfect bodies.

The idealized body has become a norm because it is on display everywhere, and thus the majority of people feel like freaks with ugly flappering "albino whale" bodies!

So instead of worrying about average people enjoying nudity (shoes or not), we should worry much more about the many inputs coming from all over the place that make us feel uncomfortable with our own - and other peoples'- naked bodies.

This entry got really long, I know. But thanks for sticking around till the end - if you are still reading... bling bling...bling.

Last, a note just for the record: even though I advocate nude in favour of prude, I don't walk around naked all day myself. Not in need to hide that I'm actually an albino whale but because I succomb to the norms of the culture I live in and don't wish to attract untimely attention or even punishment (yes, even in super liberal Scandinavia, "disturbance of the public order" is considered a crime).

The sun disc chariot

Yes, it is the sun disc chariot glowing behind me. The national symbol from the danish bronze age, the object which once was the toy of the finder's young son, the object which has been subject to speculations of the bronze age mythology - which is illustrated in the Bronze Age section of the new permanent exhibition of Danish Prehistory at the National Museum in Copenhagen.

Visit the exhibition! It features moving, jittering, vibrating objects. This is TRUE, go see for yourself how the bronze age shields are waving, the parade axes are shaking and the gold bowls threaten to tip over at the slightest movement in the floor.

But that's about the only entertainment you'll get in that exhibition.

As an archaeologist you'll probably be happy to see that the volume of finds in the exhibition has increased massively. Which is a good move - from the representative exhibition showing single objects as representatives of a style/type/time to a volume of objects competing to overwhelm you and to give an impression of the rather massive volume of finds, that actually exist.

And hooooraaaay, the amount of text has been limited to a minimum. My biggest pet peeve in museums is "books on walls". Thank you for getting rid of that.
If people want to READ to learn about history, there are more comfortable ways of doing that. Like taking a book to your armchair with good light, no disturbances but perhaps some dim music and a cup of tea. Books on walls in crowded museums CANNOT compete with that.
Instead, the text has been limited to a nice chronological overview you can always cling to when you get overwhelmed and dizzy of the masses of jewelry and weapons surrounding you on all sides.

Wonder why it's become fashion to use black as the background colour in museum exhibitions recently? Not very practical as it reflects the light and sometimes what you see most is the reflections of the lamps in the already very dark rooms. I've been informed that the darkness in the dark rooms is a technical fault - it's too dark some places. It will be taken care of (eventually...).[the dim lighting is intentional in some rooms only it has become too dim by mistake]

The exhibition is stocked with jewellery from all periods - it's overwhelming. But personification I think is what is lacking. The exhibition does not succeed in bringing the past to life. Where are the people who wore the jewelry, those that drank from the beakers, buried their dead, scraped the skins, made the sacrifices, fought the wars?
Perhaps a little contextualising wouldn't hurt. And yes, it can be done without adding more text, it just needs altering of the text and perhaps some storylines, some more effects, more drama?

Go and see the Barbaricum exhibition at Lunds Universitets Historiska Museum. Here you have a brilliant example on how to contextualize without overtexting, and how to create a setting that helps the visitor plunge into the past.

Thank you, that's all.For now.

Death by fork!

Eating, loving and fighting - three universal elements of human nature.

We know, that a lot of fighting has occured because of love. But that there is also a very direct connection between fighting and eating - and now with new evidence - is a fact that is new to me.

We are not talking about mixing up eating and fighting in the sense of eating your enemies or having a feast after a fight. We are talking weaponry here.

Take a look at this BATTLE FORK - and I'm not kidding.

This object is actually labelled "a battle fork" on an archaeological exhibition. It comes from a grave in Masów, Poland and is dated to the Pre-roman Iron Age.

So here we have it. Weapons derived from cutlery. Or what ever came first. We all know that knives may be used both for killing and eating, but a battle fork, that's something new. At least to me. Maybe I'm just a total armoury-ignorante. Maybe battle forks are really one of the most common weapons in history - only it has skipped my antenna some how.

Personally, I think I'd prefer death by knife rather than fork.

So if you know about loads of battle forks - any period - or other cutlery-based armour - and how to use it perhaps(?!), please enlighten me.

Røg i Weberland

Jeg bor i et område, som de indfødte (altså de, som bor inde på det rigtige, gamle Bryggen) kalder Weberland.
Det er nybyggeri af den dyre slags med Webergrill på enhver altan. Termen Weberland er hentet fra graffiti på et plankeværk fra dengang her endnu var byggeplads, og bruges især i den lokale nablolags-avis.
Weberland er faktisk parcelhuse stablet i etager. Totalt parcelhuskultur men minus besværet med at passe have. Intet foregår andet end at folk tager på arbejde (i bil off course), afleverer yngel i institutioner, kommer hjem, slukker lys, går i seng. Repeat x 5.

Men når det så bliver weekend, oh ve. Så er det, at luften fra alle sider fyldes op med Weber-os.
Jeg har ikke begreb om, hvad teknikken er med hele den der firestarter. Men på stikflammens størrelse ser det ud som om, de er i gang med at starte affyring af rumraket fra egen altan.

Jeg er dog ret sikker på, at det ikke er meningen, at det skal stå ud med tyk, sort røg. Det ville man da i al fald reagere på, hvis det var en rumraket, som skulle opsendes.
Men næh, nej, ingen panik der. Røgen får lov at ose ud og lægge sig tungere end smog over Lyngbyvejen på en varm sommerdag.

For det er jo vildt hyggeligt at grille!
Så er det sommer!

Uhmm. Grillmad.

Ja, jeg kommer nu nærmere til at tænke på denne:

Cool app on facebook - by ME!

Really proud of myself and my IT-skills these days. I managed to create an application on facebook. Now ppl. can send archaeological treasures to eachother. I like that idea.
Spending waaaaaaaaaaay to much time on fb (procrastination destination no. 1!) I for once did something vaguely relevant for my subject. And on the long run - hey, promoting archaeology is always relevant!

I find what is happening at the internet with archaeology - and I guess other culture-historical sciences too - very interesting.
In this forum, the communication is as much a dialouge as it is a teaching media. And the media seems perfect for creating dialogic communication- making it less authoritative. Important in the sense of "whose past is it anyway?": are we, as scholars, in our right to claim authority on prehistory? Is it not particularly through dialogue that new ideas and scientific leaps are formed and expressed?
Internet communication seems to be the perfect way of taking archaeology out of the ivory tower and into the hands of real people.

So I contributed to the ivory tower exit with my own humble little part - by making a facebook application enabling users to send archaeological treasures to friends.
Check it out here: archaeological treasures

The past

Do you feel it?

Bones crackling beneath your walking feet
Whispers
From the cracks in the rock
Roaring from the waves on the sea

History can’t hear you
But it’s right there

Only separated from the soles of your feet

with a dark layer of earth

Like skin with blubber

And under it

bones
ashes
wood

And blood that curdled
back to iron and water

Finds I did not see

Just got back from Gdansk. Was at the archaeological museum there to study finds from numerous Roman Iron Age cemeteries. Many unpublished and thus only available for study by personal presence. This form of study requires the benevolence from the ppl in the museum. They have to be willing to share and to find a moment in their pressed scedules to help you access these finds. I am thankful to those who took their time and granted me the access.

It was 2 days of intensive work - concentrating on checking out finds, studying plans and maps, and not least trying to grasp the language. I would be lost without Magda.

My favourite word in Polish is W'kop rabunkowy. It means robber's trench. It's the remains of prehistoric looting.

But the most interesting result of this journey was the finds that I did not get to see. And I mean this in all honesty.

If you ever go to Gdansk, don't miss the National Maritime Museum. It has Europe's 2nd largest ethnographic collection of boats from all over the world. Absolutely amazing.

Bornholm

Just got back from study trip on Bornholm. It was marvellous, not least because of the magnificent people that I know there. They are into archaeology heart and soul and fortunately they agreed to tell my students about their work.

There're tons and tons of work to be done.
Evaluation report.
Chapter about graves for Sorte Muld book (due this week).
Preparations for study trip to Gdansk.
Article for Skalk about my new discovery which is still a secret.
Last but absolutely not least: more chapters for my dissertation.
So I can get it off my hands and get on with all the other exciting projects that are queueing in my mind - eager to be realized.

Happy Easter

All small children are archaeologists

- or are all archaeologists children?

Either way there are several striking similarities in the behaviour of the two.


Just watch a small child at play outdoors:

• Browsing the ground, picking up scraps


• testing the objects picked up by putting them into mouth - regardless of them being covered in dirt or sand
  
• Love DIGGING


• Dressed in an all-weather proof outfit where practicality overrules aesthetics


• Leaving traces of mudd in the car, house, supermarket or whereever he/she goes

Now watch the (field-)arcaheologist at work:

• Browsing the ground, picking up scraps


• testing the objects picked up by putting them into mouth - regardless of them being covered in dirt or sand


• Love DIGGING


• Dressed in an all-weather proof outfit where practicality overrules aesthetics


• Leaving traces of mudd in the car, house, supermarket or whereever he/she goes

Conclusion: Perhaps archaeololgists are simply the segment of the population that never grew out of it...

Bad archaeologist with a love for micro stratigraphy

Sunday afternoon.
Just went to the office.
Still have access to it although my time is up and I am not employed by the University any longer.
At least not for the moment.
Soon I'll be hired as an external lecturer which means that I'll work the blood out of myself and get payed by the hour for creating a course and teaching it.
I'm doing the course together with a geologist.
Interesting how we do have some common theoretical challenges. Such as approaches to stratigraphy. And relative dating.
Plus we both like to get our feet into the mudd and our hands dirty... And we don't mind how we look in wellies and windblown tresses.

In fact we archaeologists take a certain pride in having thick, dried up layers of mudd on our boots and preferably on our clothes too.
To document we are actually working. HARD.
We're growing our very own micro-stratigraphy beneath our boots.

Back to work.
I went to the office because I don't remember the more narrow (but relative!) dating of the fibula Amgren 103. Am I a terrible archaeologist because I don't remember that by heart?

IF only I had my notebook in which I described all the finds from the grave in question.
But apparently it can't be found at home or here at the office.
Which means I now have to look it up because I am a terrible archaeologist not remembering this by heart. But hello, I am now admitting it. Even in public (if this blog can be considered public. How many readers does it take to classify something as public? Don't know if I have other readers than myself @ this blog).
Usually we archaeologist cover up the gaps in our expertise, that some times threaten to merge to the surface. So this is outstanding y'all. (or me-all...).

Anyhow, the notebook gone, I'm going to look it up and get it fixed. Never again will I ever forget the dating of silver fibulae of type Almgren 103.

If you, dear reader, are not an archaeologist, this will make no sense or meaning to you, it will be completely irrelevant. Perhaps I should try that approach too. But then I would not be an archaeologist now, would I?

So for now I'm going back to work. It will pay off in the end. Only not financially.
But surely, there are other values in life than what money can buy. The question is if they're overrated?
See ya' later.

perhaps there is hope after all

Future archaeology: "Ken just located a website that has had no hits within the last 28 years! It's an outstanding find!"

(strip by WulffMorgentahler, Politiken 23. feb. '08)

Why blog?

There are numerous reasons to why I started blogging. But why blog?
Is it not just a symptom of our present culture where everybody wants to expose themself? Am I blogging because I am a kind of exhibitionist - only not physically but rather a mental exhibitionist? I want to expose my thoughts to the world, look at me, look at what I'm thinking?
The answer is NO.
I'm blogging to keep my head from exploding.
My mind is so full of thoughts. And paradoxically, this actually to some degree prevents my work from progressing. I get mentally constipated. More and more is constantly generated but it goes no where.
By blogging, I can let it out in a media where I do not have to reflect on form first, but can let it flow directly from the mind to the writing fingertips. Unedited.
I hope that blogging keeps my writing flowing and that the natural flow of words - from mind through fingers to screen - will transmit to my research work as well.
That I will learn to stop editing while I write (a very destructive procedure) and save the editorial process for later. I believe the blogging will help me to become more productive. Even though at first hand you might say it is taking extra time - that I might have used for my research instead.
Rather than imposing my thoughts on anybody I am hereby sharing them with those that may care to read it and perhaps share my interests, thoughts, ideas. Or disagree. And hopefully contribute with interesting comments.
A blog is a great media for transforming an unedited random monologue into an interesting dialogue.
So feel free to comment - I'm grateful for your contribution to transforming this now monologue into a dialogue.
And prevent my head from exploding.

Gross Distraction

Hmmm. Just thinking about how archaeology is so much a product of it's present context. Any given time.
Just now I'm working with material from the "Prussian" area - a place which is now days part of Poland but was before 2.ww. a part of Germany.
The find I'm working with at present was excavated and published in 1937. Thus right in the time of flourishing nazism.
So in order to retrieve information about this find, I must go to the source. Which turns out to be a publication named "Germanen Erbe". I order the title at the library. Recieve it at my desk. Open it. Full of images that are promoting the Swastica (which is in fact a symbol used by numerous prehistoric cultures around the world) but in a grim context.
All the images of the men dressed in military swastica-ornamented uniforms, small adds in the publication promoting various copies of ancient jewelry and other stuff to order - all with the Swastica symbol on it.
Off course all this distracts my attention from what I was actually looking for. Just a picture of an archaeological object.
But now I wonder if it is even right to use this publication. It makes me nauseous - litterally. I want to vomit because this publication is to such a degree reflecting the formation and promotion of the Nazi world order. And all I need is the picture and description of a small fibula. For a completely different context. I almost forgot to even look for it. And I'm reluctant to do so. Should my fingers even touch the pages of this - filthy - publication? It's like trying to study anatomy from a porn magazine. There's plenty of human limbs to see but the context is misplaced. Context. It's all depending on context.