It offers convenience, infinitely better storage capacity and other advantages, but is the new writing medium imported from the Land of the Pharaohs really the way of the future, or merely a novelty that will not manage to supplant our tried and true Sumerian technology?

We went to the marketplace of Uruk to find out what people think. 

Royal scribe Ur-Shammi, sitting at his stall at gate of the palace, was dubious. "I don't get it. You need a special fluid, and a special thingie to dip in it, and then after you're done if you touch it, it smears...Give me a clean slate any day, and any kind of wedge, and I'm set. I don't need anything special to write, see?"

Famous priest and poet Naram-Sin son of Shulgi was sitting beneath the palm tree in the courtyard. A peek at his tablet revealed a rendering of the tale of Gilgamesh in epic form. The poet was scornful of the new medium. For him, it is not just a matter of convenience, but of passion. "I prefer letters I can run my fingers along and feel, you know? Can you do that with this "papyrus"? I think not! I've seen some of these papyrii,  when the Egyptian delegation was here last time, and it was very uncomfortable reading them. This "ink" swims before your eyes. It does not have the sturdiness of a carved tablet. Feeling the etchings of the scribe can tell you much beyond the words themselve. Again, this is lost with the "new technology" of the infernally strange Egyptians."

And so we see, dear readers, that although the new technology offers some advantage, its drawbacks are too numerous to capture the hearts of the reading class. The future of the Uruk clay tablet mill seems quite safe for the time being. For the Uruk Times, I am Akalamdug, son of Ekur.

Update: Backstory