Blogging Archaeology: November
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For some background to what the Blogging Archaeology drive is all about, you could do no better than to head to the horse’s mouth and read about it there. Don’t look into it though. I can’t remember why. Or is that a gift horse? I must look it up. Speaking of which, let’s address the first part of November’s question – Why Do You Blog?
Why Do You Blog?
From a very early age. . . ok, let’s skip to the point, cut to the chase and drop the pasta – I am the world’s greatest prevaricator. I know this because I spent 8 months researching, collecting data, and. . .
Fine. I didn’t. Because as soon as it looked anything less than immediately thrilling, I found something else to do. I’ve always found it far more entertaining to talk about doing things, instead of actually doing them, and I’ve found that blogging is the second best format for doing this in. The first is, of course, actually talking.
It may be a coincidence, but I’ve also always preferred the ‘making of’ documentary to almost every film I’ve watched. The documentary format and the blog have a great deal in common – the word ‘blog‘ is a portmanteau of ‘web’ and ‘log’ (another reason to despise the word ‘vlog’ – technically it should be an ‘olog’) and was an early digital expression of a journal.
And journals and documentaries are famously about things, instead of being things. The chief difference between the two is that the documentary tends to be released in one go, where-as the journal is, unsurprisingly, released, if all goes well, on a daily basis – it is never a complete document. It will, unavoidably, one day, just stop.
And while that would have been a fitting, if not trite, place to end this post, it seems I haven’t actually addressed the questions.
Why do I blog? Because it gives me the illusion of doing something while I’m actually avoiding doing something else. The money is also amazing, the parties are literally mind-blowing, and there is no longer any of that tedious queuing outside nightclubs.
Why do you continue?
On dark winter mornings, or when left ragged, torn and fragile at the end of yet another weekend that started out as ‘fun’ but quickly spiralled out of control, this is a question I often ask of myself.
For the sake of brevity, I will attempt to confine the answer to blogging, though I may stray into wider issues, rendering this sentence pointless.
I continue to blog because. . .
Bloody hell Doug. It’s a tenuous enough impulse already. Do you realise that by forcing people to analyse their motives you could actually end up with fewer bloggers as they give up in despair? Is this your plan? Are you trying to kill off the competition so there’s just Doug’s Archaeology left? I always assumed the title was an indication that it was merely your take on archaeology, not a wholesale claim on the discipline. I can see it now. It’s all so clear. Hiding in plain sight. Christ.
‘Why Do You Blog? Why Do You Continue?’
Yes, well, the questions are taking on a very different character now your mask has slipped, Mr. Doug Rocks-Macqueen. If you, dear reader, have a single doubt remaining, ask those questions aloud, in your closest approximation of a Dalek voice.
‘Why Do You Blog? Why Do You Continue?’
‘Cease And Desist Your Blogging Activities!’ is in the recycling bin, I take it?
Why am I still blogging, Rocks-Macqueen?
Because you’ve just given me something to blog for.
In response to my attempts to open people’s eyes to the true nature of Doug’s Carnival of Archaeology Blogging, it seems as many as 59 of you rebelled and produced blog posts in an effort to dash his plans for domination. Well done. Keep it up. It’s our archaeology too Doug.
Oh no. Have I been played? Was this his real plan? A cog within a gear? Did he deliberately provoke me into fomenting rebellion, all the while knowing archaeologists are an argumentative, obsessive lot,* likely to deluge him with blog posts to show their true spirit, and therefore ensure his endeavours bore fruit?
Have I just been manoeuvred into being a recruiter for some as yet to be revealed nefarious power grab? Have I unwittingly helped to gather an army of. . . hang on, supper’s ready.
* Yes we are.