1. I believe that it's a fruitless quest;
2. I believe that it stems from ego;
3. I believe that, further, it reflects a fear of death;
4. I also believe that recent archaeological tv shows have a lot for which to answer, filling the screen with a pile of utterly redundant information.
If, as I accept, my own recent past is as dead as the dodo, then why would an even more distant one matter at all? The lessons of the broader world history are all well-known; there is no real value in further exploration beyond the personal satisfaction of an academia able to chisel out the funds to continue in that search amongst the detritus of time.
That anyone is willing to live on their knees, scraping at mud, says more to me than it must to the kneeler.
I'd rather bore myself even further by sitting in a bar watching a daily Spanish cookery programme. At least on the one that comes, de rigueur, with my menu del dia, there are two fine, stretched aprons to engage the mind and distract from the fare I eat. Even the Spanish news girls are more attractive than the ones on Sky, never mind the cooks!
(Yesterday afternoon I figured out how to load music off a pendrive onto my cellphone; I shall now be able to eat, watch the aprons and listen to rock 'n' roll all at the same time! I am so pleased that I eventually understood how to convert all those cassettes into mp3.)
Happy shooting, but go easy on the printing: you don't really need it.