At a possible transition towards a 'flat', post-human or new-materialist environment, many have suggested that archaeological theory and theorizing is changing course; turning to metaphysics; leaning towards the sciences; or, even is declared dead. Resonating with these concerns, and drawing on our fieldwork on a northern driftwood beach, this article suggests the need to rethink fundamental notions of what theory isits morphological being-and how it behaves and takes form. Like drift matter on an Arctic shore, theories are adrift. They are not natives of any particular territory, but nomads in a mixed world. While they are themselves of certain weight and figure, it matters what things they bump into, become entangled with, and moved by. Based on this, we argue that theories come unfinished and fragile. Much like things stranding on a beach they don't simply 'add up' but can become detached, fragmented, turned and transfigured. Rather than seeing this drift as rendering them redundant and out of place, it is this nomadism and 'weakness' that sustains them and keeps them alive.

Intangibility has become a trendy term within heritage studies and is now even considered to refer to heritage in general. This article discusses this development, along with its integrity and consequences for the fate of things in the heritage discourse. With reference to the concrete ruins of Iceland's recent past it addresses the traditional and contemporary processes of discrimination and othering within heritage definitions, and the often fragile dialectic between heritage and waste. With a foothold in these very concrete and tangible remains the article questions the emerging claim 'that all heritage is intangible' and suggests that a broader heritage conception, and a true concern for the very tangible qualities of things, may bring us closer to a comprehension of the (heritage) value of these modern ruins. Ruin memory'They have destroyed the factory! It is not the same -it has lost its charm now.' These were the words of a frustrated photographer I met in Strandir, in Iceland's Westfjords, while working on my project on herring factories in the area last summer. I instantly knew what he was referring to. One of the two decaying and roughly half a century old

As we pass into an age of the Anthropocene, archaeologists, as scholars of other disciplines, are driven to consider how this physical and ideological climate change affects our craft, or how archaeology can contribute with knowledge and insight of significance in a shifting world. Basing its arguments on research conducted on marine debris and drift beaches in northern Norway and Iceland, the aim of this article is to imagine what kind of alternative ways of doing and thinking archaeology the current climate is calling for. With reference to this material, which conspicuously manifests both obstacles and promises for an ‘Anthropocene archaeology’, the article will question the worth of some perspectives traditionally considered essential to our discipline, while simultaneously building on confidence in a sincerely archaeological imagination.

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