All roads lead to the Congo Basin.

Unfortunately I am my most productive when trying not to write a paper, or trying not to read dry essays that i need to write a paper about. Today I did two large loads of dishes, cleaned out the kitchen cabinets to rid them of grain moths, took out three bags of trash, folded some clothes, read the news, made dinner, sorted the mail. I even posted an ad on craigslist for FREE NEWSPAPERS.

I did not need to do any of those things.
I DID need to write a paper about the migratory patterns of the Bantu and what linguistics has to do with it. After three pages of reading I took a nap -- shocking even myself with my lack of motivation. A couple stuffy essays in and I started to suspect that it doesn't really matter what the Bantu migratory chronology was. or any other migratory pattern. I mean, outside of plain old curiosity. Ethnic relations can be sorted out through DNA tests - like in the case of Ghengis Khan's roving weiner.
The Boma may or may not care that this one maverick linguist is turning the whole british linguistic camp upside down with his new theory on the hierarchical groupings of Bantu languages and that they are now potentially grouped with the Yanzi instead of the Duma.
See, its not that Bantu migration doesn't matter to me - its just that everyone's migration doesn't matter to me. Give me oral history or give me death! "Myths" about how one group ended up in one place are far more intriguing than counting the number of similar morphemes. AHHHHHH.


(Dinner was kefta meatballs, made with bison instead of lamb, with lemon leben sauce. )