"The plot has thickened on the mystery of the altar stone of Stonehenge, weeks after geologists sensationally revealed that the huge neolithic rock had been transported hundreds of miles to Wiltshire from the very north of Scotland.
That discovery, described as “jaw-dropping” by one of the scientists involved, established definitively that the six-tonne megalith had not been brought from Wales, as had long been believed, but came from sandstone deposits in an area encompassing the isles of Orkney and Shetland and a coastal strip on the north-east Scottish mainland.
Many experts assumed that the most likely place of origin was Orkney, based on the islands’ rich neolithic culture and tradition of monument building.
But a separate academic study has now found that Orkney is not, in fact, the source of the altar stone, meaning the tantalising hunt for its place of origin goes on…"
Yes! I read something recently about how, while making reading and writing ubiquitous was an unarguable net benefit for humanity, it did irreversible damage to oral traditions.
People used to tell fairy tales to their kids from memory. Now, we read them books. I was discussing this with my in-laws; the 30% of us who never had children weren’t able to recite more than a few lines of more than a couple nursery rhymes. You just forget stuff over the years.
Don’t get me wrong: I’m a huge fan of books. I love reading. But we’ve also lost something in the process.