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coming in 2011 to a mead hall near you..

Beowulf--The Event.

Okay, it may not be near you. However, if you're the right kind of geek, it will be worth traveling for.

look! cute, vaguely humanoid aliens.

I went to see "Star Trek" last night with xdaemon and dulcinbradbury. It's as good as I heard it was.

Yeah, I know--most of you have heard my knock on the Gene Roddenberry universe after the franchise-horse had died and was nonetheless continually flogged (see title of post).  Nonetheless, JJ Abrams brought the charm back, which is odd, since no matter how I spin this, it comes up as an odd-numbered Star Trek movie

Call me a heretic, but this cast is really much better than the original. Actually, the whole thing was better.

An old colleague of mine at Crossgates 18 showed me their "baby IMAX" theater last night. Even at only about 40 feet tall, it's impressive.

"Star Trek" in IMAX anyone?

doctor stephanie

Stephanie of Vestfell, the stealthiest resident of Vestfell farmstead, just graduated as a Doctor of Pharmacology today.

I'm impressed.


Yes, it's true. I sort of appear on LJ, run off at the mouth a bit, then disappear.

"..and all he left was this silver alliteration!" said Pooh.

"You mean like soup or spear?" asked Christopher Robin.

"Spear doesn't alliterate with silver. It's a different consonant cluster," said Pooh.

"You are such a geeky bear," said Christopher Robin.

So at any rate, I decided to play with the so-called "eddic" song-form, Liothahattr. This is what I came up with:

Wise is the king

with words of old,

eager for Oðin’s cup.

Humbly speaking

from heart the truth

learned from Caid’s kings.


In ancient crowns    

cut  are the runes,

“We lead when you believe”.          

Hear the calling    

of kings of old,

“We lead when you believe”.

Pooh would have ended it with "tiddley-pom".


He was
a much-loved dog,
equal parts
drool and shedding,
not too bright
and I once thought
not the bravest.
Ferce. Loyal.
Fiercely loyal
and he was
the bestest dog.

Osborne died Tuesday. He was almost ten years old. Damned old for his breed. His health failed very suddenly. I was with him at the end.

He is buried in a hillside, near where he was born.


this train don't carry no arrows..

Had a great time at SS & MM. Shot a decent Royal Round (for me), and consider it not too bad for using a mis-matched set of borrowed arrows. See, the funny thing about Amtrak is that they consider target arrows to be weapons. *Sigh* I think a six year-old could stop someone from hijacking a train with a 35 pound bow and target arrows.

Hijack a train? It does seem a bit bizarre. ("Take this train to New York, Penn Station!" "Sir, it's going to Penn Station. That's where the tracks run.")

Maggi was able to take photos of me shooting that even made it look like I knew what I was doing. Pictures really do lie.

southbound train

I'm on my way down to the Southern Region this weekend, and will be attending "Sundered Shields and Masked Measures". Guess I really ought to find myself a mask, huh?

Note to self: what sort of masks did they wear in 11th century Iceland, Denmark, Norway or England?

Note to self: why do I ask myself these questions?

I've never been to Hartshorndale before.


I have grown strangely fascinated with zombies. Not just any zombies. Smiling zombie minions. Zombies that have been odor-neuralized with Febreze Zombie Formula ("Zombreze", patent pending). I worry that without the tell-tale stench-of-death, we will never know that the smiling zombie minions are sneaking up on us. The pleasant, perfumed odor could cause us to think we are being approached by a basket of laundry, or perhaps a sofa, and who would worry about that?

Then I think I have too much time on my hands. No, certainly not.

I wonder if my co-workers are secretly zombies, but they lack the requisite winning, undead personaliies.

Then I suspect I have lost my mind. Well, two out of three ain't bad.

Recently Maggi sent me this:


EEEW! I mean really. EEEW! And yet cool, in that train-wreck kind of a way.

late summer days and winter nights..

Oh-my-god, a picture of me smiling..

It's been an eventful late Summer and early Autumn. A lot has changed. Good changes.

Between Coronation and Winter Nights, I got to see a lot of you, which was most excellent.

Winter Nights was a good event... solid performances all around. I had a lot of fun, and rolled out a few new pieces, including the closest thing you're likely to hear to a relatively authentically-toned skaldic love poem. (previous post.) I know what you're saying: skalds weren't all about the beaming and gushing. I also performed "The Lay of Thorpatrik"-- look for it at a bardic circle near you. The food by Aoife and Joel was great, and the company was tremendous.

TRM attended, and seemed to enjoy themselves. Glad to see those of you I saw. Missed the rest of you.

I suspect Winter Nights will be back for year #4 in 2009.

My travelling schedule for events may be a bit reduced for a bit, but I will be at Sundered Shields, Crown Tourney and Bjorn's Ceildih. I'm looking into Bergental Yule and Birka. Cooks and Bards is looking less likely.


Okay, so I have been a little quiet lately. What can I say? I've been busy. I've been thinking about teleportation and bats and smiling zombie minions. This all leads to--wait for it--a Viking poem about teleportation.

Untitled Kviðuhattr

My home calls,      quick I seek it;

from this place      fast returning.

Wave-path wide      will I travel,

shore to shore     but ship not used.


Falcon coat,      feather-covered,

carry me      quickly afield.

Like Volund,      vaunted greatly,

let me fly,      fast-travelling.


Bolverk’s wings,      wildly flapping,

with great haste      hie me away.

Odin’s mount,      many-legged,

run like wind      to wished-for place.


I have not      happy patience,

as farmstead      afar calls me.

Eager my      eyes for seeing

that which brain      brightly dreams of.