Friday, 24 February 2012

Stonehenge confirmed to visually represent being pissed

New research by B.A.S.S. at Salisbury has revealed that when you imbibe a minimum quantity of 9 tankards of Wiltshire's finest scrumpy, you start hearing things. If you imbibe said scrumpy in the middle of a field, the sounds start forming shapes. If you're both religious and completely Fatty's Leg* in this field, well, you start building circular monuments. Makes sense, when you think about it.

These rigourous tests were confirmed by science-types who believe that Stonehenge's shape is based on the shape of a sound when in the middle of a field. They say that there would have been two instruments on either side of the field playing the same note to create this. We know this to be nonsense.

Scenario: It's 3,500 BCE. You are a Druid high priest, and you've had a skinful of the chief's finest fermented goat's piss. You get completely lost and end up stonking drunk in the middle of a field. On your right, your best mate is calling you over to him for another snifter. On your left, your wife is calling you over to give you an earful. Your carefully god-kissed and inebriated mind swirls the two sounds together and makes this circular pattern before your eyes. Then you pass out on top of a fox.

B.A.S.S. has cordoned off the entire site of Stonehenge for further investigation. 40 tonnes of nitroglycerin have been ordered from EBay, and we expect to get at least 3 feet down by tea time. Our aim is to find some Neolithic tankards buried beneath the Heelstone to corroborate with our theory.

*the state of being completely beyond repair i.e. "f**king f**ked as f**k"

Wednesday, 15 February 2012

(Super Extreme) Archaeologists

The Super Extreme Archaeologist is an elusive yet highly volatile member of the academic community. If you spot a wild Super Extreme Archaeologist, do not approach or feed them.

Tuesday, 14 February 2012

Valentine's gifts for that special archaeologist in your life

B.A.S.S. are nothing but a bunch of old softies, really. When it comes to Valentine's Day, they sit in front of the letterbox waiting for the love post to roll in. After they've sorted through the mass of lingerie (seriously, whoever keeps sending their knickers, please stop. Or at least wash them first).

The Aztecs were history's greatest romantics. What gift says "I love you" more than a human heart? Casanova, eat your ...never mind.

Here's some of the best Valentine's presents that B.A.S.S. have received in the post today, and make for some good last minute gift ideas for that special archaeologist in your life.

Trowel/Bottle opener combo
 Archaeologists are busy people; they can't be expected to walk out of the trench and into the finds tent to get a bottle opener. This little gizmo saves them the bother.

 Danger: Explosives sign
Absolutely vital if you're planning on digging with B.A.S.S. This little wonder will stop any unsuspecting members of the public from poking their nose into the archaeology where it's not wanted.

A Super Extreme Archaeology Team T-Shirt
 If you can get one of these mysterious gems, then your better half will be yours for life. These rare T-Shirts were available for all of 2 months before the mysterious disappearance of the Super Extreme Archaeology Team. Rumours are that these shirts are currently circulating on the Black Market.

Did we miss anything?

Sunday, 12 February 2012

Deconstructing the Ringlemere Cup

B.A.S.S. aren't shy when it comes to deconstruction. "Don't you mean 'reconstruction?'", we hear you cry. Well, no. You see, reconstruction is very 'now' and every archaeologist under the sun is having a bash at it. Deconstructing something takes a bit more time and effort, and B.A.S.S. have done us proud in doing a fine job with the Ringlemere Cup.

B.A.S.S. discovered the cup hidden inside a chicken and bacon sandwich at the Dog and Duck pub in Kent, probably on its way to being smuggled to Cornwall. After some extensive exploratory fieldwork in said pub, B.A.S.S. found the original context of the cup had been some bloke's barrow not too far up the road. They stocked up on pork scratchings and pale ale and headed out; two days later they also uncovered half a wall (it was a full wall but one of the student volunteers knocked over a can of nitroglycerin).

The cup itself is pretty bashed in, and one of the main questions posed at their lecture (again in the Dog and Duck pub) was "how did it get so damaged?".

The popular theory is that the cup was the victim of extensive ploughing in the area, but B.A.S.S. didn't believe it for a second. Half a dozen golden cups were forged and they spend a full week destroying them as best they could. Eventually, the truth was found.

At the test lab, B.A.S.S. confirmed that the damage was the direct result of a Neolithic 'test your strength' contest amongst tribal leaders; a tradition that still exists among the locals of the Dog and Duck pub. Judging by the extensive damage on this cup, we imagine that whoever had a crack at this one was a clear winner.

Saturday, 11 February 2012

First post - Welcome!

Tidy darts.

The British Archaeological Super-Squad hasn't got a great deal of material about their excavations that is available to the general public (in line with their motto, "Pub first, publish later"). This blog will be the record of the great contribution that these stalwart archaeologists have made to the subject. As the information comes in, we'll slowly expand on the illustrious career of the UK's most celebrated (and secretive) archaeologists. If we're lucky, we might even get a word or two from them directly.

Until then, we leave you with one of their handy tips:

Archaeology Tip #17: When choosing a site to excavate, proximity to local beer-serving facilities is of paramount importance.