DARK SATANIC ENVIRONMENTAL ARCHAEOLOGY

Greetings affiliate archaeophiliacs. Today's rant is about the nightmarish subject of environmental archaeologists and the corrupt festering sore they represent on the fundament of God-fearing modern day archaeology. These sorry brutes (with their base penchant for deliberating over steaming piles of ordure) have caused a blight upon the snowdriven reputation of us, the keepers of the one true faith - ie. those who are content to smoke pipes and write reports relating to bent rusty nails.
On my regular evening perambulations I carry a trusty shillelagh in the off chance that I may have my passage blocked by one of these fiends (no doubt they would be divested of all clothing, rolling in a gutter-full of night-soil and wailing 'Sub-fossil insect remains!') so that I can deal the blackgaurds a righteous blow in the name of all that is pious.
Phytoliths my grunting backside! Bottom feeders is too good a descriptive phrase for them!

The loathsome netherworld of environmentalism was first uncloaked for me by a reputable colleague (they understandably wish to remain nameless for fear of retribution) who pointed my nose in the direction of a thesis by a certain 'environment archaeologist'  Eileen Reilly (but her facebook page lists her as a High Priestess of Mu.) The missive was, from what I can glean from the introductory paragraph, researched using only a microscope, a black candle, a pair of rubber gloves and a pack of dog-eared tarot cards! It was printed on cheap paper and entitled 'The Conundrum of Indus Valley Script Decoded Using the Boot-Scrapings of Tom Cruise.' Surely this stretches the boundaries of credulity!! I will admit to telling the odd pork pie in the name of inflating my already enormous public profile but I have never stooped so low as to involve Tom (Top Gun) Cruise A.K.A. the Giddy Goat Baphomet.
Elm decline? I'll give the b*****ds elm decline! D**n your eyes ye demonic muttonheads!

Using mephitic beetle samples and plant remains as votive offerings, covens of these palaeo-perverts assemble in remote locations on the feast of St. Walpurgis to discuss sampling strategies and invoke the names of Diatom, Vertebrate, Ostracod and Macroscope in order to push post-excavation budgets through the roof and bring about the last battle between Good and Evil on the Hill of Megiddo. The hour is nigh brethren (and cistern) the housebreakers of iniquity are attempting to ransack the parlour of chastity, let us nail shut the sash windows of fortitude and lower the blinds of Venice (or venetian blinds as they are more commonly known.)

So, in summation, boys and girls, to end, indeed to finish, I would just like to say, stick to the coins, pot sherds and spindle whorls and ye need not fear of being led into the Satanic temptation of being overly close with waste products. AND should a cloaked figure approach you and beg for a sniff of your bottom in the name of 'tephra analysis', tell them to shove their microscope where the soft focus button is unable to rotate.

With gracious apologies to Eileen Reilly

Until next week my vinegar flavoured amigos!