Podcasts about Old Norse

    Composting tyranny into nutrient for democracy How shall we craft the redemptive Act V – from our current Act IV of cruel carnage ransacking (from Old Norse = “to pillage”) Community? Caroline welcomes Henry Giroux, deeply dedicated  cultural critic, translator of complex liberating pedagogy into accessible vernacular….always the micro to the macro…. and ladling out of the cauldron  redemptive strategy and vision  to navigate through this dangerous crack-pot tyranny time… education essential to good citizenship- essential to democracy Prodigious contributor- authored or co-authored over 65 books, articles, lectures”No one is better than Henry Giroux at analyzing the truly dangerous threats to our society. He punctures our delusions and offers us a compelling and enlightened vision of a better way.” — Bob Herbert “Henry Giroux is one of the singular intellects in contemporary life, a sane, compassionate, and fierce voice against the society of domination, inequality and the madness of ruthless Imperialist conquest.” — John Steppling, Playwright, screenwriter, and essayist https://www.henryagiroux.com/ The post The Visionary Activist Show – Composting tyranny into nutrient for democracy appeared first on KPFA.

Much is often made of London's lost rivers, like the Tyburn, Fleet, and Walbrook. Yet Newcastle upon Tyne also has rivers we cannot see. Ours are not lost, rather they're simply buried. The Skinnerburn, Erick Burn, Pandon Burn, Lam Burn, and Lort Burn all continue to flow beneath the city, down to the mighty Tyne. The Lort Burn is perhaps the most well-known of the buried rivers. Originally called the Dene Burn, it gained its new name of Lort Burn in the later 14th century. Some sources say 'Lort' comes from an Old Norse word meaning 'filth' or 'excrement'. The Story of the Tyne: And the Hidden Rivers of Newcastle gives the rough route of the Lort Burn. I've followed it as best I can given the current street layout, picking up the ghost stories and legends that lie along its route. Let's go and explore them in this week's episode of Fabulous Folklore! Find the images and references on the blog post: https://www.icysedgwick.com/lort-burn-route/ Get your free guide to home protection the folklore way here: https://www.icysedgwick.com/fab-folklore/ Become a member of the Fabulous Folklore Family for bonus episodes and articles at https://patreon.com/bePatron?u=2380595 Buy Icy a coffee or sign up for bonus episodes at: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick Fabulous Folklore Bookshop: https://uk.bookshop.org/shop/fabulous_folklore Pre-recorded illustrated talks: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick/shop Request an episode: https://forms.gle/gqG7xQNLfbMg1mDv7 Get extra snippets of folklore on Instagram at https://instagram.com/icysedgwick Find Icy on BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/icysedgwick.bsky.social 'Like' Fabulous Folklore on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fabulousfolklore/

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for May 30, 2025 is: gust • GUST • noun Gust refers to a sudden strong wind. It is also used figuratively for a sudden outburst of something, such as a feeling. // Today's weather will be windy, with gusts of up to 40 miles per hour. See the entry > Examples: “This subversive comedy is now a posh panto, directed by Max Webster. It gets gusts of laughter but can feel rather forced, and the joyous language is left to fend for itself.” — Robert Gore-Langton, The Mail on Sunday (London), 8 Dec. 2024 Did you know? You're no doubt familiar with the breezy gust meaning “a brief burst of wind.” But about a century and a half before that word first appeared in print in the late 16th century, a different gust blew onto the scene. The windy gust likely comes from a synonymous Old Norse word, gustr, whereas the older gust, which refers to the sensation of taste as well as to a feeling of enthusiastic delight, comes ultimately from gustus, the Latin word for “taste.” English speakers eventually mostly dropped that older gust, replacing it in the early 17th century with a similar gustus word borrowed from Italian: gusto is now the go-to word when you want to refer to enthusiastic and vigorous enjoyment or appreciation. You can use it with gusto.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for May 21, 2025 is: hapless • HAP-lus • adjective Hapless means "having no luck." It's a synonym of unfortunate. // The documentary follows a hapless victim of false allegations. See the entry > Examples: "The New York Yankees had a nice, feel-good return to their spring training home this weekend by beating up on the hapless Tampa Bay Rays." — Kristie Ackert, Athlon Sports, 19 Apr. 2025 Did you know? Hapless means exactly what you'd expect it to mean: "without hap"—hap being another word for fortune or luck. Hap comes from the Old Norse word for "good luck," which is also the source of happen and happy. English has several words to describe those lacking good fortune, including ill-starred, ill-fated, unlucky, and luckless, a word formed in parallel to hapless by adding the suffix -less. Ill-starred suggests bringing calamity or the threat of a terrible fate ("the ill-starred year the Great Depression began"). Ill-fated refers only to being doomed ("the ill-fated voyage of the Titanic"). Unlucky and luckless usually apply to a person or thing notably or chronically unfortunate ("an unlucky slots player," "some luckless investors swindled in the deal"). Hapless is often imbued with a touch of pity, humor, or both for those to whom it refers, as in "a hapless goalie who couldn't block a shot to save his life."

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for May 3, 2025 is: sleuth • SLOOTH • verb To sleuth is to carefully or methodically search for information, or to act as a detective. // We spent hours at the flea market sleuthing for 19th century paintings. See the entry > Examples: "To fill the market with vintage treasure, we called upon some of the industry's best dressed—Anok Yai, Emma Chamberlain, Hamish Bowles, Julia Sarr-Jamois, Kaia Gerber, Paloma Elsesser, Tabitha Simmons, Tonne Goodman, and Gigi Hadid—to sleuth through eBay and curate their must-haves." — Lilah Ramzi, Vogue, 6 March 2025 Did you know? "They were the footprints of a gigantic hound!" Those canine tracks in Arthur Conan Doyle's The Hound of the Baskervilles set the great Sherlock Holmes sleuthing on the trail of a murderer. It was a case of art imitating etymology. When Middle English speakers first borrowed sleuth from the Old Norse word slōth, the term referred to the track of an animal or person. In Scotland, sleuth hund referred to a kind of bloodhound used to hunt game or track down fugitives from justice. In 19th-century U.S. English, sleuthhound, soon shortened to sleuth, began to be used for a detective. From there, sleuth slipped into verb use to apply to what a sleuth does.

Just had a dream about wolves. So I thought I'd do a podcast on wolves. In this episode, we explore "wolf energy" through books, legends, and Wheels of Time, the hit Amazon fantasy series.We'll also cover former NBA coach Phil Jackson, his wolf pack quote, Rudyard Kipling, and the Old Norse word for wolf.Carl Jung and Robert Bly also make an appearance.I finish with two books that I want to read Beowulf and Prose Edda.Embrace your wolf energy.

Old Norse translations of Old French romances played a critical role in introducing ideas of courtliness and chivalry and cultivating a shared European literary culture in thirteenth-century Norway. In this episode, scholar of Old Norse studies Mary Catherine O'Connor examines the reasons for translation, how these translations were produced, and a case study of one translated work to consider the role of cultural encounter as it is revealed through translation and literary transformation.For more information, visit www.multiculturalmiddleages.com.

Join The Man of the West for an in-depth look at two pieces of alliterative verse cried out by a restored King Théoden… just ignore the butchering of Old English and Old Norse, please. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Hi beloved, how are you doing? Can we talk about ANGER? Take a deep breath, focus in and lets explore the interconnection of the MIND, BODY AND SPIRIT'S perspective.I used to think anger was something to avoid, a messy emotion I had to shove down. But I've come to see it differently—it's a life force, a signal flaring up when my boundaries or needs get trampled. It's not the enemy; it's trying to tell me something matters.Honoring Your Anger's Brutal TruthI think by sharing two words and their etymology - you'll get the point of this sweet little drop here today. ✌

The Man of the West bids farewell to The Nerd of the Rings, as they welcome everyone's favorite ancient and military historian back to the PPP: Dr. Bret Devereaux, author of A Collection of Unmitigated Pedantry returns to answer an absurd number of questions that Alan and Matt have come up with from their last ten episodes. We get our 40k references out of the way early, discover Bret doesn't read Old Norse, get an expert explanation of weregild, and have our eyes opened to Helm Hammerhand's missteps. We also discuss peace through Black Death, wonder what the Quenya would be for “It's all yours, buddy”, and lament the fact that the tales, they are so unfinished. Also, the emperor's name is spelled Pupienus, just to be clear. Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

For this week's Bonus Episode, we're wandering wild places to explore the history and folklore of Trolls, which, though they sound pretty ancient, are a surprisingly modern folkloric creation!We start off chatting about the modern perception of Trolls, including the quite sinister online iteration we all know as the "Internet Troll" and the mass-produced toys, invented in the 1950s, now an animated film franchise more associated with pop music than pagan fiendishness. Then though, we wind back the clock, discussing how Trolls first appear on record, in scant scraps of Old Norse, and start to discover a problem: that Trolls were not 'one thing' but actually a whole class of kinds of things, the word used interchangeable with several others, with associations ranging from incest to kidnapping to the moving of mountains. Thankfully, as we track across time, we explain how and why Trolls came into clearer focus, particularly as a counterpoint to Christian Scandinavians. From the formation of nations such as Denmark, Norway and Sweden through to the Enlightenment era, during which Trolls almost become a kind a ghost, through to the 19th and 20th centuries, it emerges that Trolls have become a symbols capable of representing very different ideas over time.So, is a Troll the same thing as a werewolf? At some points, yes! How about a form of Giant? Absolutely, but not always. With answers to these questions and many others, including the links between Trolls and street walkers, their associations with barrow tombs, and the reasons why they're so scared of church bells, it's a stranger episode of the Three Ravens Bestiary than most.Nonetheless, we hope you really enjoy it, and as the spring sun starts to shine, know that you're safe from Troll-kind so long as you stay well out of dark and savage places...The Three Ravens is an English Myth and Folklore podcast hosted by award-winning writers Martin Vaux and Eleanor Conlon.Released on Mondays, each weekly episode focuses on one of England's 39 historic counties, exploring the history, folklore and traditions of the area, from ghosts and mermaids to mythical monsters, half-forgotten heroes, bloody legends, and much, much more. Then, and most importantly, the pair take turns to tell a new version of an ancient story from that county - all before discussing what that tale might mean, where it might have come from, and the truths it reveals about England's hidden past...Bonus Episodes are released on Thursdays plus Local Legends episodes on Saturdays - interviews with acclaimed authors, folklorists, podcasters and historians with unique perspectives on that week's county.With a range of exclusive content on Patreon, too, including audio ghost tours, the Three Ravens Newsletter, and monthly Three Ravens Film Club episodes about folk horror films from across the decades, why not join us around the campfire and listen in?Learn more at www.threeravenspodcast.com, join our Patreon at www.patreon.com/threeravenspodcast, and find links to our social media channels here: https://linktr.ee/threeravenspodcast Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We welcome back onto The Folklore Podcast musician and composer Einar Selvik, founder of the band Wardruna and expert in Old Norse music and culture. Einar discusses his beliefs and connections with nature, the way he goes about composing his music through the use of old Norse runes, and his latest work Birna, named for the old Norse she-bear.To support The Folklore Podcast, please consider making a small donation via our website, or visit https://www.patreon.com/thefolklorepodcast where you can find exclusive bonus content.

News; birthdays/events; now that Superbowl/football season is over...what are you looking forward to now?; word of the day. News; game: Abraham Lincoln true or false?; university student helps low vision/blind people "see" live action sports; most popular "dream jobs". News; game: music from 1975; things you didn't know you could put in the dishwasher; have you ever snuck your dogs into a hotel? News; game: Mind Trap; feel good story of the day; goodbye/fun facts....Hug Day...It's hard to deny the power a simple hug can have over our moods and general well-being. It's amazing how such a simple gesture can just melt your troubles away. You hug someone to celebrate their highest of highs and to soothe them during their lowest of lows. Approximately 450 years ago, the term ‘hug' was first recorded in Old Norse. It's believed to have sprung from the verb ‘hugga,' which meant ‘to comfort.' According to historical records, hugging and handshaking were first used in warfare to communicate to your adversary that you didn't intend to harm them, showing that you had no visible weapons in your hands or on your body. Hugs help lower stress and lower blood pressure.

In this cozy and heartwarming episode, Amanda, Laura, and Kendra introduce us to the Danish concept of hygge. As the winter months stretch ahead, they explore how embracing hygge can transform cold, dark days into moments of warmth, comfort, and connection. From lighting candles and layering cozy blankets to gathering with loved ones and enjoying slow, mindful meals, the hosts uncover how this beautiful tradition can help us cultivate happiness even in the chilliest season. What is Hygge?Hygge is the Danish art of creating warmth, comfort, and connection in everyday life. It's about slowing down, being present, and embracing life's simple joys. With its roots in Old Norse, the word hygge translates to “comfort” or “to console,” making it the perfect antidote to winter blues. The Ten Principles of Hygge: Atmosphere – Soft lighting, candles, and cozy surroundings. Presence – Disconnect from distractions and be in the moment. Pleasure – Savor warm drinks, comforting foods, and life's little treats. Equality – Everyone contributes and shares in the moment. Gratitude – Appreciate the small joys. Harmony – No competition, just togetherness. Comfort – Soft blankets, warm clothes, and cozy corners. Truce – Leave drama at the door. Togetherness – Enjoy deep connections with loved ones. Shelter – Create a sanctuary from the cold. Why Does Hygge Matter?Denmark consistently ranks as one of the happiest countries in the world, and many believe that hygge plays a role. Studies show that fostering cozy, nurturing environments can reduce stress, increase mindfulness, and boost happiness. Lighting a candle, for example, has been shown to lower cortisol levels, while engaging in a creative hobby can release dopamine. Bringing Hygge Into Your Life: At Home – Layer soft blankets, light candles, and create a hyggekrog (a cozy nook) for relaxing. In Clothing – Opt for chunky knit sweaters, soft scarves, and warm socks. In Food – Enjoy slow-cooked meals, baked treats, and steaming cups of tea, cider, or cocoa. With Others – Keep gatherings small and meaningful, focusing on deep connection rather than large socializing. In Nature – Take a winter walk, enjoy stargazing under a blanket, or bring seasonal greenery indoors. The Hygge Manifesto: Turn Down the Lights – Use candles and soft lighting. Be Present – Put away distractions and focus on the moment. Indulge in Pleasure – Enjoy good food, warm drinks, and simple comforts. Share and Include – Embrace togetherness and make space for all. Practice Gratitude – Appreciate what's good in life. Embrace Harmony – No competition, just warmth and connection. Seek Comfort – Prioritize coziness in your surroundings. Final Thoughts:Hygge is more than just candles and sweaters—it's a mindset, a way of life that prioritizes warmth, presence, and joy. This winter, let's embrace hygge and transform the cold months into a season of comfort, connection, and simple pleasures. Resources Mentioned: The Little Book of Hygge by Meik Wiking Online hygge shops for cozy essentials Join the Conversation:How do you bring hygge into your life? Share your thoughts with us on social media using #HyggeLife and tag us! Stay Connected: Subscribe to the podcast for more inspiring episodes Follow us on Instagram and Facebook @thewholephysician Visit our website for show notes and resources Wrap yourself in a warm blanket, grab a cup of tea, and let's hygge our way through winter together! ❄️✨

In this week's episode, Dan is re-joined with Dr Mathias Nordvig to talk about his new book and explain why he has made such a bold statement that Old Norse Mythology doesn't exist.------------------------------------------------Follow Mathias on his Instagram:@mathiasnordvigAlso, check out his website:https://mathiasnordvig.com/And his podcast, The Sacred Flame:https://thesacredflame.buzzsprout.com/Follow the Podcast on Instagram:@nordicmythologypodcastIf you like what we do, and would like to be in the audience for live streams of new episodes to ask questions please consider supporting us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/NordicMythologypodcastCheck out Dan's company, Horns of Odin, and the wide range of handmade items inspired by Nordic Mythology and the Viking Age. Visit: https://www.hornsofodin.com Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

We're joined by New York Times book critic and author Dwight Garner. He presents food quips from his favorite writers, as well as John Updike's lunch routine and Hunter S. Thompson's party tricks. Plus, anthropologist Manvir Singh helps us digest the world of “meat-fluencers” and their all-meat diets; A Way with Words give credit to the Old Norse words lingering in our kitchens; and we prepare a Pakistani-Style Chicken Biryani. (Originally aired January 4th, 2024.)Get this week's recipe for Pakistani-Style Chicken Biryani here.We want to hear your culinary tips! Share your cooking hacks, secret ingredients or unexpected techniques with us for a chance to hear yourself on Milk Street Radio! Here's how: https://www.177milkstreet.com/radiotipsListen to Milk Street Radio on: Apple Podcasts | Spotify Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Today our guest is Einar Selvik, musician, singer and ethnomusicologist. Einar if the founder of the band Wardruna. We talk about ancient sites, nature, wild places, landscape and Einar's life growing up in Norway. We talk about music, poetry, archaeology, playing drums in metal bands and the beginnings and evolution of Wardruna up to the present day. We also discuss Wardruna's new album Birna. From the deep woods now emerges Birna, Wardruna's sixth studio album. Through his restless dialogue with nature, main composer Einar Selvik has been searching for the voice of the bear, resulting in this upcoming release, scheduled for January 2025. Birna – the she-bear in Old Norse – is a work of art dedicated to the guardian of the forest, nature's caretaker, and her battles here on earth. Slowly driven out of her habitat by modern day societies, she has entered a stage of permanent hibernation. As a result, the forest is gradually dying, longing for its pulse and heart – its shepherd. Birna calls for her return.

In this week's episode, Dan interviews Luca Panaro to discuss the historical path of Old Norse to modern video games.------------------------------------------------Follow Luca on X (Twitter):@lucaapanaroFollow the Podcast on Instagram:@nordicmythologypodcastIf you like what we do, and would like to be in the audience for live streams of new episodes to ask questions please consider supporting us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/NordicMythologypodcastCheck out Dan's company, Horns of Odin, and the wide range of handmade items inspired by Nordic Mythology and the Viking Age. Visit: https://www.hornsofodin.com Get bonus content on Patreon Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for December 10, 2024 is: brogue • BROHG • noun A brogue is a low shoe, usually made of leather, that is decorated with small holes along the sides at the toe, and that usually features a wing tip. // Even though his brogues are scuffed and old, Dad prefers them to his new loafers. See the entry > Examples: "Paired with a cropped white T-shirt, midi-skirt, and brogues, Gigi [Hadid] was the yin to [Taylor] Swift's yang." — Hannah Coates, Vogue, 21 June 2023 Did you know? Did you expect brogue to be defined as "an Irish accent"? We're sure you're not alone: brogue has two homographs (words that are spelled—and, in this case, pronounced—the same but have different origins or parts of speech). The brogue that refers to the shoe comes from the Irish word bróg and Scottish Gaelic bròg, and likely traces back to an Old Norse term meaning "leg covering." (That ancestor is related to an ancestor of the English word breech.) Originating in Ireland, the brogue was designed to be a worker's shoe and was made from untanned hides. The "accent" brogue comes from a different Irish word, barróg, which can refer to an accent or speech impediment and translates literally as "tight grip."

Due to Robert Eggers' new film "Nosferatu" coming out on Christmas this month, the A24 Rocks crew decided to review his 2022 Nordic epic "The Northman" for this A24 Vibe Discussion. Starring Alexander Skarsgård, Anya Taylor-Joy, and Nicole Kidman: The Northman is a take on the Old Norse tale "Amleth" that Shakespeare turned into Hamlet. What will these film reviewers think of Robert Eggers' third film after directing two of the most acclaimed A24 films in the film studio's history? Caution: movie spoilers. Intro- 0:00 to 5:01. Film Discussion- 5:01 to 57:52. Film Rating and Outro- 57:52 to End. --- Support this podcast: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/a24otr/support

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for November 20, 2024 is: snivel • SNIV-ul • verb To snivel is to speak or act in a whining, sniffling, tearful, or weakly emotional manner. The word snivel may also be used to mean "to run at the nose," "to snuffle," or "to cry or whine with snuffling." // She was unmoved by the millionaires sniveling about their financial problems. // My partner sniveled into the phone, describing the frustrations of the day. See the entry > Examples: "At first, he ran a highway stop with video gambling. 'To sit and do nothing for 10 to 12 hours drove me nuts,' he [Frank Nicolette] said. That's when he found art. 'I started making little faces, and they were selling so fast, I'll put pants and shirts on these guys,' he said, referring to his hand-carved sculptures. 'Then (people) whined and sniveled and wanted bears, and so I started carving some bears.'" — Benjamin Simon, The Post & Courier (Charleston, South Carolina), 5 Oct. 2024 Did you know? There's never been anything pretty about sniveling. Snivel, which originally meant simply "to have a runny nose," has an Old English ancestor whose probable form was snyflan. Its lineage includes some other charming words of yore: an Old English word for mucus, snofl; the Middle Dutch word for a head cold, snof; the Old Norse word for snout, which is snoppa; and nan, a Greek verb meaning "to flow." Nowadays, we mostly use snivel as we have since the 1600s: when self-pitying whining is afoot, whether or not such sniveling is accompanied by unchecked nasal flow.

Israel's attacks in Lebanon escalated over the weekend, beginning with Friday's strike that shook south Beirut, killing Hezbollah leader Hassan Nasrallah. Sources say that a ground operation may be imminent. We get the latest on those developments and their implications within the region and beyond. Also, Hurricane Helene has brought massive devastation to the southeastern United States. Part of what people there are struggling with is the fallout from mudslides linked to deforestation. This is something we're seeing more and more, not just with Hurricane Helene but in flooding events worldwide. And, in Sweden, an ancient language that's a remnant of Old Norse sounds nothing like the modern Swedish language. But there's been a grassroots effort to save the language, spoken today by only an estimated 2,500 people. This week marks a milestone in that effort: the publication of the first-ever book of Elfdalian grammar written in English.Listen to today's Music Heard on Air.

My links: My patreon: ⁠https://www.patreon.com/user?u=103280827 My Ko-fi: https://ko-fi.com/rhetoricrevolution Send me a voice message!: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/liam-connerly TikTok: ⁠https://www.tiktok.com/@mrconnerly?is_from_webapp=1&sender_device=pc⁠ Email: ⁠rhetoricrevolution@gmail.com⁠ Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/connerlyliam/ Podcast | Latin in Layman's - A Rhetoric Revolution https://open.spotify.com/show/0EjiYFx1K4lwfykjf5jApM?si=b871da6367d74d92 YouTube: https://www.youtube.com/@MrConnerly  Identity Identity Etymology: From Latin identitas ("sameness, oneness"). Definition: The condition of being oneself or itself, and not another. Self Etymology: Old English self, related to Old Norse sjálfur. Definition: The essential person that distinguishes an individual from others. Persona Etymology: Latin persona ("mask, character in a play"). Definition: The aspect of someone's character that is presented to or perceived by others. Individuality Etymology: From Medieval Latin individualitas. Definition: The quality or character of a particular person or thing that distinguishes them from others of the same kind. Sense of Self Definition: The awareness of one's own identity and individuality. Loss Etymology: Old English los ("destruction, loss"). Definition: The fact or process of losing something or someone. Grief Etymology: Old French gref, from Latin gravis ("heavy, grievous"). Definition: Deep sorrow, especially caused by someone's death. Mourning Etymology: Old English murnan ("to mourn, bemoan"). Definition: The expression of deep sorrow for someone who has died. Sorrow Etymology: Old English sorg. Definition: A feeling of deep distress caused by loss, disappointment, or other misfortune suffered by oneself or others. Heartbreak Etymology: Compound of "heart" and "break". Definition: Overwhelming distress caused by a romantic disappointment or loss. Unrequited Love Etymology: From Latin unrequīrere ("not to seek in return"). Definition: Love that is not reciprocated or returned in kind. Melancholy Etymology: Greek melankholia ("black bile"). Definition: A deep, pensive, and long-lasting sadness typically caused by perceived loss or sorrow. Confidence Etymology: Latin confidentia ("trust, reliance, assurance"). Definition: The feeling or belief that one can rely on someone or something; firm trust. Self-assurance Definition: Confidence in one's own abilities or judgment. Empowerment Etymology: From Middle French em-, en- + pouvoir ("to be able"). Definition: The process of becoming stronger and more confident, especially in controlling one's life and claiming one's rights. Self-discovery Definition: The process of gaining insight into one's own character, feelings, and desires. Recovery Etymology: From Latin recuperare ("to get again, regain"). Definition: The action or process of regaining possession or control of something lost or taken away. Renewal Etymology: Old French renouveler, from Latin renovare ("renew"). Definition: The action of extending the period of validity of something; the process of being restored to a better condition. Resilience Etymology: From Latin resilire ("to rebound, recoil"). Definition: The capacity to recover quickly from difficulties; toughness. Acceptance Etymology: From Latin acceptare ("to take willingly"). Definition: The action of consenting to receive or undertake something offered. Healing Etymology: From Old English hǣlan ("to cure, make whole"). Definition: The process of making or becoming sound or healthy again. Transformation Etymology: From Latin transformare ("to change in shape or form"). Definition: A marked change in form, nature, or appearance.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for July 10, 2024 is: ungainly • un-GAYN-lee • adjective Ungainly usually describes someone or something moving in an awkward or clumsy way, or the awkward, clumsy movements themselves. It can also describe an object that is difficult to handle (especially because of being large or heavy), or someone or something that has an awkward appearance. // While seals are ungainly on land, they are beautifully agile swimmers. // Getting the ungainly couch up the stairs was a real chore. // The creature is large and ungainly. See the entry > Examples: "[Composer, Gioachino] Rossini, who was just 25 at the time, and his librettist Jacopo Feretti turned this 'Cinderella' into a comedy. It contains all kinds of farcical elements, including hidden identities and the wonderfully exaggerated stepsisters, who are delightfully mean, self-involved and ungainly." — Kyle MacMillan, The Chicago Sun Times, 22 Jan. 2024 Did you know? What do you have to gain by knowing the root of ungainly? Plenty. The gain in ungainly is an obsolete English adjective meaning "direct" that ultimately comes from the Old Norse preposition gegn, meaning "against." (It is unrelated to the noun in "economic gains" or the verb in "gain an advantage"; those came to English by way of Anglo-French.) Ungainly can describe someone who is clumsy, as in "a tall, ungainly man"; or something that causes you to feel clumsy when you try to handle it, as in "a car with ungainly controls"; or something that simply looks awkward and out of place, as in "an ungainly strip mall."

(LearnIt History Episode) LearnIt History welcomes British historian, Percival Grinsynski, to talk about his insights as well as what the Old Norse religion, aka Norse Paganism, is all about!

In this sleepy episode, I tell you stories from Norse Mythology and explanations about its context and meaning to the Old Norse.Stories include the discovery of the runes and the loss of an eye by Odin, the war between the Aesir and the Vanir, the construction of the wall of Asgard, the creation of the World, and Ragnarok, the end of times. We will meet all sorts of gods and creatures: Odin, Thor, Freya, Freyr, Njord, Tyr, Loki, Heimdall, Mimir, the Norns, Ymir, Fenrir, Jormungand, and many more, across the 9 worlds: Asgard, Midgard, Jotunheim, Vanaheim, Niflheim, Muspelheim, Alfheim, Svartalfheim, and Hel. Mythology is an enchanting way to relax and fall into a deep sleep, so I hope you enjoy this episode. Welcome to Lights Out LibraryJoin me for a sleepy adventure tonight. Sit back, relax, and fall asleep to documentary-style stories read in a calming voice. Learn something new while you enjoy a restful night of sleep. Listen on Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@LightsOutLibraryov⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠ ¿Quieres escuchar en Español? Echa un vistazo a La Biblioteca de los Sueños!En Spotify: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://open.spotify.com/show/1t522alsv5RxFsAf9AmYfg⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠En Apple Podcasts: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://podcasts.apple.com/us/podcast/la-biblioteca-de-los-sue%C3%B1os-documentarios-para-dormir/id1715193755⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠En Youtube: ⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠⁠https://www.youtube.com/@LaBibliotecadelosSuenosov⁠⁠⁠

Every human being is quarreled with the wonder of "what if." And in that regard, we turn to oracular devices to aid in our decision making. For these most ancient of practices have survived for millennia--and still exist to this day...Instagram: @beyondtheseaspodcast - 250 Followers by Summer Solstice and we go to Salem!!!EMAIL ME: beyondtheseaspodcast@gmail.comTarot Collaboration: @thefeatherwitchnycWeekly Book: The Pool of Two MoonsPodcast website: https://beyondtheseas.buzzsprout.com/More info: https://www.kierandanaan.com/beyond-the-seasSubscribe for all the mythological and folkloric episodes, posted weekly.Sources-College of Psychic Studies, The. "A Guide to Scrying." The College of Psychic Studies, 24 February 2022. www.collegeofpsychicstudies.co.uk/enlighten/guide-to-scrying,-Gilbert, Robert Andrew and George Kerlin Park. "Divination.," Britannica Encyclopedia, 21 April 2024. www.britannica.com/topic/divination.-Huanaco, Francisco. "The Five Clair Senses and their Hidden Powers." Spells8, 12 January 2024. spells8.com/the-five-clair-senses-and-their-hidden-powers.-McCoy, Daniel. "The Origins of the Runes." Norse Mythology for Smart People. www.norse-mythology.org/runes/the-origins-of-the-runes.-McEwan, Emily. "The Ogham Alphabet." Gaelic.co, 26 April 2017. gaelic.co/ogham.-Old Norse. "What are Runes?" Old Norse, oldnorse.org/what-are-runes. Referenced. -Parlett, David. "Tarot." Britannica Encyclopedia. www.britannica.com/topic/tarotMusic"Say Something" by Dear Gravity"Intimacy" by Ben Winwood"Parachutes" by Michael FK"A New Deep" by Dear Gravity"Irish Mountains" by Ben WinwoodCheers Magick Makers,Kieran

This is an episode of ALILI with a twist, as Dr Jackson Crawford, YouTube's charming Old Norse expert, had me back on his channel to chat syntax, old languages and public linguistics. Chatting to him and his Patreon supporters was a real treat for me, both to share the ideas of my recent PhD work, and to get his perspective on the state and future of linguistics online. I hope you enjoy these excerpts from our chat! Jackson's stellar YouTube page: ⁠https://www.youtube.com/@JacksonCrawford⁠ Jackson's Patreon site: ⁠https://www.patreon.com/norsebysw⁠ Host: Dr Jackson CrawfordGuest: Danny BateMusic: Bossa Nova by William_KingArtwork: William Marler Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Barratry is a noun that refers to the act of frequently instigating lawsuits.  The Old Norse word for ‘contest' provides the origin of several words related to the law, such as barrister and bar, as in ‘passing the bar.' Our word of the day has been around since the Late Middle English period to describe the bahavior of those who like to sue people a little too much. Here's an example: Kevin's barratry got a little excessive at times. He had so many lawsuits going on that he was on a first-name basis with members of the jury. 

In the centuries after the Norman Conquest, as many as eight languages were spoken in the British Isles: English, Anglo-Norman, Latin, Norse, Welsh, Cornish, Irish, and Hebrew. Who spoke these languages, and how did they interact and influence each other? In this episode, Austin Benson discusses the linguistic and literary landscape of multilingual Britain, interviewing Dr. Sara Pons-Sanz at Cardiff University about Old Norse, Dr. Shamma Boyarin at the University of Victoria about Hebrew, and Dr. Georgia Henley at Saint Anselm College about Middle Welsh.For more information about these speakers and their conversation, visit www.multiculturalmiddleages.com.

It's time to break out your Old English and even Old Norse as we look at Bilbo's age of eleventy-one, and learn that abandoning the long hundred meant losing out on some cool numbers.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for March 30, 2024 is: haphazard • hap-HAZZ-erd • adjective Something haphazard has no apparent plan, order, or direction. // Considering the haphazard way you measured the ingredients, it's a wonder the cookies came out this good. See the entry > Examples: "It felt like winter for the first time that year, and Theo remembered how much she preferred the dark, the secrecy, of the season. They walked single-file up against the haphazard stone wall, wary of cars that sped up the country lane. … An owl hooted somewhere close by and they stopped to listen, sitting on a section of broken wall." — Juno Dawson, The Shadow Cabinet, 2023 Did you know? The hap in haphazard comes from an English word that means "happening," as well as "chance or fortune." Hap, in turn, comes from the Old Norse word happ, meaning "good luck." Perhaps it's no accident that hazard also has its own connotations of chance and luck: while it now refers commonly to something that presents danger, at one time it referred to a dice game similar to craps. (The name ultimately comes from the Arabic word al-zahr, meaning "the die.") Haphazard first entered English as a noun meaning "chance" in the 16th century, and soon afterward was being used as an adjective to describe things with no apparent logic or order.

Greg Jenner is joined by historian Dr Janina Ramirez and comedian Kae Kurd in medieval Iceland to delve into the world of old Norse literature. It's full of elves, giants, trolls, gods, deadly mistletoe and eight-legged horse babies. Anything goes in a world created from the decapitated body of a giant where a squirrel runs communications! But what was the ultimate purpose of these stories? Who wrote them? And what do they teach us about Viking culture?Produced by Greg Jenner and Emma Nagouse

Justin and Adam chat again about butchering and cooking by specific cuts. In this episode, they dive deep into the Ribs and Brisket of Big Game Animals, touching base on techniques, nuances, and recipes for these two delicious cuts.  - Leave a Review of the Podcast - Buy our Small Batch Wild Fish and Game Seasonings - Join our Snow Goose Camp - Feb 2024 Recipes: Savory Venison BBQ Ribs - Brandon Dale Italian Venison Ribs - Hank Shaw BONE IN BBQ WILD GAME RIBS - Steve Rinella - MeatEater Venison Brisket Bacon - Alan Bergo Forager Chef TEXAS-STYLE VENISON BELLY ROULADEN - Jesse Griffiths - Meateater Show Notes: Snow Goose Camp - Feb 2024 Ribs Physical description of the cut Intercostal muscle 13 ribs vs 15 ribs per side Batoning technique Baby Back Ribs - Top Spare Ribs - Bottom Rib Tips Culinary History How to cook Fat on Ribs Lard vs. Tallow Age will affect cooking times Brisket Fatty on domestic beef. Lean on Game Front - Point Flat - Rib Flap, Belly portion atop the ribs Loads of connective tissue The word comes from Old Norse for cartilage Culinary History How to cook Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

Gyrfalcons are the largest falcons in the world, with a wingspan of almost four feet and weighing almost five pounds. The name “Gyrfalcon” derives from an Old Norse word for “spear.” During the summer, you'll find Gyrfalcons on the tundra, where they feed on arctic birds. But in the winter, some will fly as far south as the northern U.S.More info and transcript at BirdNote.org. Want more BirdNote? Subscribe to our weekly newsletter. Sign up for BirdNote+ to get ad-free listening and other perks. BirdNote is a nonprofit. Your tax-deductible gift makes these shows possible. 

In this week's episode, Dan speaks with Fredrik Gregorius to go over how Old Norse religions have been used in different contexts ranging from eco-warriors to feminist activists.------------------------------------------------Follow the Podcast on Instagram:@nordicmythologypodcastIf you like what we do, and would like to be in the audience for live streams of new episodes to ask questions please consider supporting us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/NordicMythologypodcastCheck out Dan's company, Horns of Odin, and the wide range of handmade items inspired by Nordic Mythology and the Viking Age. Visit: https://www.hornsofodin.comSupport the show

We're joined by New York Times book critic and author Dwight Garner. He presents food quips from his favorite writers, as well as John Updike's lunch routine and Hunter S. Thompson's party tricks. Plus, anthropologist Manvir Singh helps us digest the world of “meat-fluencers” and their all-meat diets; A Way with Words give credit to the Old Norse words lingering in our kitchens; and we prepare a Pakistani-Style Chicken Biryani.Get this week's recipe for Pakistani-Style Chicken Biryani here.We want to hear your culinary tips! Share your cooking hacks, secret ingredients or unexpected techniques with us for a chance to hear yourself on Milk Street Radio! Here's how: https://www.177milkstreet.com/radiotipsListen to Milk Street Radio on: Apple Podcasts | Spotify Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Episode Summary This week on Live Like the World is Dying, we have a short story about prepping called "Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners" by Matthew Dougal. It's a parody about two right-wing preppers who are faced with a collapse in society. After the story, there's an interview with the author about prepping mentalities and writing. This episode was reposted from the Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness podcast. The story can be read at tangledwilderness.org. Host Info Inmn can be found on Instagram @shadowtail.artificery Reader The Reader is Bea Flowers. If you would like to hear Bea narrate other things, or would like to get them to read things for you check them out at https://voicebea.wixsite.com/website Publisher Info This show is published by Strangers in A Tangled Wilderness. We can be found at www.tangledwilderness.org, or on Twitter @TangledWild and Instagram @Tangled_Wilderness. You can support the show on Patreon at www.patreon.com/strangersinatangledwilderness. Theme music The theme song was written and performed by Margaret Killjoy. You can find her at http://birdsbeforethestorm.net or on twitter @magpiekilljoy Transcript Live Like the World is Dying: “Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners” with Matthew Dougal **Inmn ** 00:16  Hello, and welcome to Live Like the World is Dying, your podcast for what feels like the end times. I'm your host today, Inmn Neruin, and today we have something a little different. I host another podcast called Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness where every month we take a zine that Strangers puts out and turn it into an audio feature and do an interview with the author. We had a two-part feature called Blood, Soil, and Frozen TV Dinners by Matthew Dougal, and it is a short story about prepping from a very strange perspective, that of two right-wing preppers facing a mysterious collapse of society. This short story is a parody and I promise that the two main pov characters are not the heroes of the tale. It's a fun story and I do an interview with Matthew afterward about prepping mentalities, fiction, and other neat stuff. If you like this episode, check out my other podcast that this is featured from. I did not re-record the outro, so you'll get a little taste of Margaret playing the piano, because she wrote the theme music for the Strangers podcast. You'll also get to hear our wonderful reader, Bea Flowers narrate the story. Follow along with the transcript or at Tangledwilderness.org where you can read all of our featured zines for free. But before all of that, we are a member of the Channel Zero Network of anarchist podcasts and here's a jingle from another show on that network.  [sings a simple melody] **Bea ** 02:49 “Blood, Soil, & Frozen TV Dinners” by Matthew Dougal. Read by Bea Flowers. Published by Strangers in a Tangled Wilderness.  Katie sat, wide-eyed, beneath the kitchen table and hugged her knees to her chest. She was shaking, vibrating visibly. Tanner put his finger to his lips and prayed that her silent tears would remain just that. There was no time to stop and calm her down. Not again. He moved slowly around the kitchen, fumbling through cupboards and pulling out pre-wrapped packages of food. Always be prepared. Tanner had practiced this before things went dark, but it was different doing it for real. His hands hadn't been so shaky, back then.  A noise, on the porch. His body froze before his mind registered the sound. Tanner dropped into a crouch and crossed the room to the window, willing every cell in his body to radiate confidence toward his baby girl. His hand found the Glock 17 at his belt and he brought it up in front of him, the familiar feel of the grip reassuring. He took a breath, steadied himself, and raised his eyes to the level of the windowsill. The muscles in his thighs steeled and he remained, unblinking, utterly still, staring out into the darkness.  After thirty or forty nerve-twanging seconds, Tanner drew breath and relaxed. His quads were burning, and they thanked him as he straightened. He could hear the specter of his ex-wife in his head, telling him to lose some weight, exercise more… Well she'd left, and that was 135 pounds gone right there. She'd probably say that was a good start.   An unbearably loud ringing pierced the silence and sent him diving to the floor, landing awkwardly on his gun and sounding a crash through the kitchen. A keening whine came from under the table, Katie shaken from her silence.  The doorbell.  Feeling foolish, Tanner twisted over his shoulder and hissed at his daughter to be quiet. Still prone, he crawled toward the hallway in the most reassuring manner he could manage and pointed his Glock at the front door.  Footsteps outside, then a shadow appeared at the window. Tanner's heart pounded in his ears—more violent pulses of silence than sound—and his vision blurred as panic flooded his body. He'd heard the early reports of armed groups in the streets, some sort of fighting downtown, but he hadn't really believed they would come here. His legs were weak, and he silently thanked God that he was already on the floor. The shape at the window didn't move, frozen in the gloom, silhouetted by flickering light coming from the street. As Tanner's head cleared he tried to take stock of what was happening.  The apparition was vaguely man-shaped but shorter and slighter, an ethereal grace evident even in its stillness. A voice called out, muffled through the door, the guttural singsong completely at odds with the sleek form at the window. Tanner couldn't understand everything, but he thought he caught the words “little girl.” A second shape mounted the porch alongside the first, similarly short but squat and stocky, and grunted something to its companion in an alien tongue. Fluorescent light flooded the yard and the voices momentarily disappeared beneath the growl of an angry engine. Tanner's breath caught. His trembling finger hovered over the trigger and he willed the barrel to still its swaying dance. Two shots exploded outside—loud shots, from a much bigger gun than his. The creatures spun to face this new threat, their chatter rising in pitch and speed. They sounded panicked.  “yalla! hawula' alnaas majnoon.” Tanner sensed his opportunity. He was forgotten. All those hours of training kicked in and muscle memory took over as he rose to one knee, took a two-handed grip, and unleashed a furious hail of fire at his front door.  “Keep your filthy hands off my daughter!” He fired until he felt the Glock stop kicking, the magazine spent. As the cacophony faded he realized he was screaming.  “Tanner! It's me, Blake. Stop shooting goddammit, they're gone.”  “Blake?” Tanner mechanically reloaded his gun. “Why…” His throat was raw, his voice barely audible even to him. He swallowed, fighting to control his breath, and cleared his throat. “What are you doing here?”  “Come to see if you were okay. Figured you and the kid might need a hand.”  A stocky, heavily muscled figure wearing fatigues and a plate carrier stepped up to the porch, visible through the splintered ruins that had been the front door. A halogen glow lanced through the holes, like the brilliant aura of some kind of avenging eagle.  “When this shit spread across the river from the city we locked down. It was touch-and-go for a while, but things quieted down eventually. When they did, I came straight over. Good thing I got here when I did. The quick little fuckers ran for it, but I think you hit one of ‘em.”  The figure stopped, pulled down the red, white and blue bandana covering its mouth, and spat. Tanner had never been more relieved to see his buddy's foul-mouthed face. Or his M1A SOCOM 16 rifle.  “We're alright.” Tanner's voice was exhausted, his body shivering as the adrenaline fled. “Thank God I was prepared. Still, it's good to see you.”  “Prepared, shit.” His buddy grinned. “I been telling you for years to get something heavy duty.” Blake kicked the splintered remains of the door and his grin faded. “You can't stay here. Those things'll be back. Grab your girl and jump in the truck. Let's head to mine, she'll be safe there.” The grin returned.“Prepared, shit.”  An hour later they were sitting in “the Hole,” as Blake affectionately called it. The Hole was both name and description, although it perhaps undersold the amount of effort that had gone into its construction. Attached to the garage by a short, downward-sloping corridor, The Hole was a full-blown bunker that spread underneath almost the entirety of Blake's backyard. Tanner was sitting in the main chamber eating Top Ramen, chicken flavor.  They had made the half-mile journey in silence—lights down on the Tacoma, Tanner jumpy, Blake grim, Katie in a state of shock. The streets had looked completely foreign, the usual calming glow of LEDs replaced by the orange flicker of scattered flames. The familiar hum of traffic had been gone. Instead, gunfire had cracked in the distance.  Blake's wife Lauren had buzzed them inside after Blake confirmed his identity via video feed—three times: at the gate, the door, and the entrance to the Hole. The security was impressive. Lauren had ushered them inside, AR-15 at the ready. “This is prepared,” Blake was saying, as Katie stared blankly at her untouched ramen. “Old owners, they had this backyard full of fruit trees, vegetables, fuckin' kale and kohlrabi. What good is that gonna do, I said, you gonna hide in the pumpkin patch with a slingshot? Idiots.  “Anyhow me and Lauren, we wanted to be ready, so I been building this the last two years. Ain't no one knows about it, not even the contractors…” Blake sliced a finger across his throat, then laughed, “I'm joking, but they were from one of them Mexican countries. Had no idea what they were building. Good workers, though, came here the right way. And I did the security all myself.”  Tanner laughed too, but at what he didn't quite know. “You took this all real serious.”  “Yessir. You never really believed, but we did. Earl Swanson was right, this here's been a long time coming. It's just like he said, and we listened. And here we are, while you was laying on the floor waving round that little waterpistol of yours.”  Tanner had listened too, but apparently not well enough. There was only so much time he could watch an angry man on TV shouting about the state of the nation, no matter how prophetic he was turning out to be. Tanner tried to put up a strong front and flex his knowledge. He had listened, dammit.  “Is this it, then? The invasion? Earl said they've been preparing it for years, brainwashing people. Recruiting sympathizers and traitors…”  “It's worse than that. The invasion started way back, we just didn't notice. Well, most of us didn't. Earl did. He tried to warn us, that the aliens'd started infiltrating, landing in remote parts of the country, blending in, looking just like us…” Blake spat. “Well, not quite like us. But close e-fucking-nough, hiding out and biding their time.” “And now it's out in the open…” Tanner looked from his friend's face to his daughter's, scared and staring, and trailed off. He may have been listening, but he sure as hell didn't understand.  “What's happening?” Tanner asked. “We've been laying low at home, locked down and trying to wait out whatever this is. We haven't heard a thing since the power cut out three days back.”  He could feel a surge of emotion building, pent-up adrenaline and stress and fear and loneliness rolling over him in a wave as they were released. His stoicism wobbled.  “We're… Katie's scared and confused, and tired and sick of hiding and we're all alone! What is all this? What's happening?” Tanner realized he was shouting and stopped, taking a deep breath and lowering his voice. “Blake, man, what the hell is going on?” Blake never flinched, just ran his tongue over his teeth in thought while he watched Tanner's outburst through hooded eyes. “Naw, we don't know nothing for sure. Swanson's been off-air for two days, since just after shit started going down. Said he was right, that it sure as shit seemed like those aliens he'd been warning us about were making a move, and the whole fuckin' lot of us did nothing. Well, seems like it blew up in our face. Last thing he said was he's heading somewhere safe to keep broadcasting, and he'd let us know when he found out more,” Blake paused, sucked his teeth, “We've had the TV and radio on non-stop since then, since we fired the generator up. Nothing.”  Lauren lent forward. “There was something, couple days back…”  “Nothing useful,” Blake cut in. He spat. “Same old fuckin' commie stations, same old crap. They took over the channels, emergency broadcasting. Said there was a ‘protest.' Stay inside, all under control, daddy government's here, blah blah,” he laughed “Hell of a protest. More like an insurrection. Doublespeak bullshit.”  “So what's the plan? We hide out? Lay low? Wait for the military?”  “The troops ain't coming, chief.” Blake grimaced, “Alien tentacles go deep. Probably strolling around in general's stars by now, the politicians just handing over the keys. This President'll have us kissing their feet before dinner.  “Nah, if we wanna fight back we can't rely on that fuckin' bunch of secretaries and scribes. We hole up here, wait for instructions.” He laughed again, “Huh, hole up in the Hole. That's funny.”  That grin was starting to get on Tanner's nerves. “Instructions from who? How long is that gonna take? Who's gonna fight back against… this?” “I know some people, from back in the old days. Good people. There's still patriots out there who won't give up this country without a fight.”   Tanner still bristled with questions, but he was starting to feel relieved. There were people in charge, and they had a plan. That was something he could work with. “What if it takes weeks? Months? Do we have food for that long?” Blake settled further into his chair, grinned that cocky grin. “I do, don't know about you.” Before the words were even out of his mouth he was already raising his palms, “Chill out, I'm joking. I'll put it on your tab. You're a lawyer, I know you're good for it. Show him, babe.”  Lauren got up and went over to a large yellow flag hanging on the concrete wall, pulling it aside to reveal a long, narrow room that ended abruptly at a large steel door. She flicked on the light.  “Dry storage,” she said, gesturing at the shelves lining both walls. Packets of ramen, boxes of cereal, rows of whiskey, and gleaming stacks of cans stared down at Tanner. “And cold storage,” Lauren continued as she stepped over to the door, kicking aside two enormous tubs of supplements and pulling it open to reveal a walk-in freezer. Tanner followed her inside as she happily chatted away, showing everything off like a house-proud hen.  “We've got everything we need. Steaks, hotdogs, chili, hamburgers, mac and cheese, chicken parmesan, mashed potatoes--whatever you want. There's a well, too, over the other side, we had that dug last summer. Tastes a bit funny, but it won't hurt you.” Tanner was hardly listening. He had never seen anything like it, never imagined anything on this scale. Blake really had taken preparing for the end of the world seriously. The freezer room was filled, wall to wall, with a treasure trove of gourmet excess; thousands upon thousands of frozen TV dinners.  Tanner stared at his microwaved salmon filet, fries drooping from his fork. Out of habit he was eating in front of the TV with Katie, though the display hadn't changed in… however many days it had been. Just the red, white and blue logo, a tile flipping between ads for pillows, brain pills, and frozen food, and the same scrolling red banner:  Breaking: The United States of America is under attack. Stand by for updates.  Katie was poking at her food silently, barely eating. Still no appetite. Tanner had told her they were safe, told her he wasn't going to let anyone hurt her, told her a hundred times in different ways that she was his precious little girl and he would make sure she was okay. It had made no difference. She had just looked up at him with big, frightened eyes that pulled at Tanner's heart. The only time she had spoken in the past 24 hours was to ask why he had tried to shoot people. Of course she didn't understand. Maybe he should ask Lauren to talk to her.  The TV display glitched, blipped, flicked to static and then to black. Tanner shoveled the fries into his mouth and rubbed his eyes. He'd been staring at a blank TV for too long. He chewed and stretched, squeezing his eyes shut and trying to straighten out his aching back.  Earl Swanson was on TV. Tanner blinked a few times to make sure he was seeing straight. Swanson's shirt was wrinkled, his hair a mess and his signature bowtie slightly crooked, but his face wore that familiar expression of righteously indignant bewilderment. It was him.  “Blake. Blake, get in here!”  Swanson was in what looked like a large living room rather than his usual studio. Bookshelves and a TV cabinet were visible behind him. There were shadows under his eyes and his wrinkles were clearly visible without his usual TV makeup, but his eyes were as sharp as ever. There was a strength to them, piercing the screen, full of faith and fire. It felt like he was in the room. He looked like he'd been in a fight, and won. He was back.  “Good evening America, and welcome to Earl Swanson Tonight.” “Blake!” Blake stuck his head through the door.  “What? I'm working out, give me a…. No shit.” Blake stepped into the room. He was topless, breathing heavily. His stomach was shiny with sweat, pooling and running down the chiseled channels between his well-defined muscles before disappearing behind the low-riding waistband of his camo pants. Tanner realized he was staring and felt his cheeks flush as he snapped his eyes back to his friend's.  “Blake, it's--” “Shut up, I'm trying to listen.” The rebuke slapped Tanner back to the present and back to the TV. He surreptitiously sat a little straighter and sucked in his gut, trying to ignore the heat rising in his face. “...cities up and down the west coast. From Seattle to San Diego, the alien invaders and the traitors from among our own citizens have taken control, sowing chaos and destruction. Order has broken down, and anarchy rules in the streets. Yet we hear nothing but silence from the White House. The elites in Washington won't do anything about this -- they encouraged it. They caused it! “No, it is up to patriotic Americans to stop this existential threat. It is up to us, to you and me and the other patriots out there. If you value the American way of life, if you respect the principles that built the greatest nation ever imagined, if you care about your family and the future of your children, then the time has come to stand up. Your country needs you.  “I have been warning about this day on this very program for years. If you have been listening, you will be prepared for this betrayal. You know what to do. Find other true Americans who are ready to fight for our civilization and our culture. Defend our Western values against this attack by anarchists and aliens who wish to destroy us. They tried to take our guns from us, to disarm us, and failed -- now is the time to use them. Seek out the prepared, the militias, the heroes. Fight back. Show them that we will not allow it. “I will be moving to an undisclosed safe location so I can keep you informed. You know your job. I am doing my part, will you do yours?” Swanson sat erect and defiant, no less commanding for his disheveled appearance. His willpower flowed from the screen in waves, washing over the watchers. It was compelling. It was urgent. It was the only option.  The screen went black.  Swanson's gaze bored into Tanner long after the TV went dark, burning with righteous fire, lip curling with fury. The heat in Tanner's cheeks sharpened, focused, began to spread into his chest and throughout his body. There was only one thought in his mind. “We gotta go.” It took him a second to realize that Blake had spoken the words out loud.  “We do. But where? I don't know anyone like that.” “You know me, and I know people. Don't worry about that. We gotta go to Baker City. I talked to one of my buddies from the marines this morning, he's headed to join one of the militias out east. They might not be big, but they're hard. They're something.” Tanner looked at Blake blankly, unable to quite comprehend what he was being told. Days of no news, no action, now everything all at once.  “But what's in Baker City? Don't you know anyone here? This is where we live, where we have the Hole, where we have a safe base.”  Blake was clearly agitated, shifting from foot to foot.  “It's not safe. Weren't you listening? It's fallen. The military ain't doing jack, like I fuckin' told you they wouldn't.” Blake stopped bouncing and steadied himself. “But my buddy said the boys in Baker held out. It was bloody, but they held strong. If we can get there in a hurry, we can join a caravan heading for Boise.”  “Baker… Boise? What the… Boise?! Surely it's safer in Texas, or… or…”  “Texas? And how far away is that? Look, I don't know nothing about nothing, but I know I ain't looking for safer. All I know is I got buddies in Baker, and they say Boise, and they are the fuckin' resistance. We got our orders, soldier. “The west had been invaded. Destroyed. Gone. You heard Swanson, same as me. Grids are down, water's down, TV's down--mostly, anyway. Sky's half full of fire and smoke, gangs roaming the streets, traitors and aliens taking or breaking whatever they can get their thieving hands on.” Tears came to Blake's eyes.  “It's a fucking mess out there, buddy. Anarchy. They've burned the lot.” It was a lot to chew on. Tanner put a piece of salmon in his mouth.  “I'm not gonna let some filthy aliens take my home, fuck my wife, invade my country, and steal the god damn US of A! The fight is right there, and I'm gonna fight it. Are you?”  Tanner's brain was spinning, but his blood was still hot from Swanson's speech. Blake's fire, delivered standing there half-naked like a Steven Seagal action figure, was rousing something inside him. His country needed him, and he felt the call in his bones. He put down his fork. He swallowed. He rose.  “Of course I'll fight. I'll put a bullet in every alien who steps foot on American soil. I'll put every collaborator in the dirt.” He saw himself, next to Blake, riding shotgun as they made a fighting escape through the streets. He saw a heroic journey to Baker City, filled with danger and righteous violence. He saw a triumphant return, at the head of an army, cleansing his city with purifying flame. And he saw Katie, small and fragile and beautiful. Perfect, and terrified. The flame wavered.  “But I'm fighting for her,” Tanner gestured, “I got my little girl, and I'm not so red-hot on riding out guns blazing to meet these savages with her hanging off my arm. She's the future of this country, and that's a future we have to protect.”  To Tanner's surprise, Blake took a half step back.  “Shit. I know, man. Katie and Lauren, the innocent and the pure. I'm thinking of them, too.” He dropped his shoulders, but held Tanner's gaze. “But it's not safe for them here neither. We're on our own, and all hell has broken loose up top. We fight for them, and they are the reason we have to fight.” Tanner paused, then nodded. He reached out and placed his hand on his friend's shoulder, fingers gripping the sweaty skin.  “Let's go pack the truck.”  As the sun set and twilight brought a low fog creeping across the city, they piled into the Tacoma with as many frozen dinners as they could carry.  Tanner rode in back. Lauren was up front, AR at the ready, while Blake drove, M1A by his side and his Glock taped to the dash. Katie was at Tanner's side, curled up below the window and hidden from view, and Tanner watched over her with his own Glock and a borrowed Remington 870. They were all a little jumpy. He and Lauren had wanted to maintain a shoot-on-sight policy. Blake had been more cautious. According to Swanson, there would be plenty of people collaborating with the aliens. Lights out, engine low, and hopefully they could slip right on by.  No one knew what to expect—Tanner suspected they were all terrified. He certainly was. Even Blake had swapped out his flag bandana for a more understated camo print. He had stashed the red, white and blue fabric in the bed of the truck with the rest of their gear.     They pulled out into streets Tanner knew, but didn't. He had driven them every day, on the way to work, to Katie's school, to church, to the mall. The streets were as familiar as a cold Coke, yet now, in some important way, they were… different. As they left the Hole and drove through the suburb he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but once Blake reached the main street and turned past the bars and shops and take-out joints, it hit him.  The streets were dead. The cars were gone. The steady flow of traffic, of people living their lives, had stopped. The parking lot in front of the drug store was empty; so was the one behind the bar. The convenience store, normally ticking over with a steady stream of customers buying cigarettes and beer, was dark behind its windows. Unintelligible graffiti in some alien script covered the ads for energy drinks, an expression of mindless violence across someone's hard work.  A light rain had started, misting around them and adding to the dreariness. A billboard loomed overhead, the lights that illuminated the Colgate-bright smiles of the models now permanently dark. Tanner was glad—the gloom obscured the flame-scarred destruction streaking the toothpaste company's perfect white message. “Disgusting,” Blake spat. He looked like he wanted to say more but pulled up short, shocked at the sudden sound of his own voice. His eyes focused back on the road and he fell into uneasy silence. The truck continued its crawl down the deserted street, barely clocking 20 miles an hour. Even at that speed, the low growl of the engine seemed unbearably loud as it reverberated among the carcasses of commerce and ricocheted down abandoned side streets.  They kept driving, and nothing kept happening. It was torturous. Every minute of unbroken inactivity twisted the crank on the tension in the car, until the unceasing hum of the engine began to seep into Tanner's brain. Every muscle in his arms and legs, primed and waiting and ready to spring, began to tremble, and his eyes focused and unfocused on nothing at all.  His frantic heartbeat messed with his breathing, a powerful panicked thud that matched the rumble of the pistons.  Overall, he was relieved when the road curved and they entered a strip of restaurants to see signs of life among the debris littered across the street in the distance.  It wasn't immediately clear through the gloom what was happening. Blake slowed the truck, now rolling along at barely more than walking pace, and they crept closer. The scene was illuminated by the flickering light of small fires and backlit by a pair of enormous floodlights, creating a glowing aura in the surrounding mist. Images began to resolve, ghostly figures flitting in and out of view and the harsh geometric shapes—not of debris, but of hastily manufactured barricades—throwing long shadows that lanced through the air around them as they approached.  All eyes were fixed on the barricades as they pulled within shouting distance, and Tanner nearly pissed himself when someone knocked on his window. He yelped, Blake swore, and Lauren's weapon x-rayed Tanner's head and pointed at the intruder. Tanner followed her lead and jerked his gun up to aim in the general direction of the window and for ten, twenty heartbeats nothing moved. Then another knock, and Blake hissed at them: “Put those things away you idiots, we're the good guys here. Whatever side that guy is on, so are we.”  Tanner slowly lowered the gun, then the window.  “Hey folks, no cars through here.” The man was clad head to toe in black—black jeans, black hoodie, black gloves, black bandana covering his face, black curly hair running with rainwater. No wonder they hadn't seen him. The stranger spotted their guns.  “Oh, nothing like that,” he added, catching the nervous energy in the truck, “You're a bit late to the party. No trouble ‘round here, this area's been cleaned out for days.” He chuckled, sending a shiver through Tanner.  “Some folks messed up the cop shop a while back, it was a bit of a fight. Streets were all blocked up anyway, so we set up a little kitchen here. Been feeding some folks. Symbolic, like, new world in the ruin of the old and all that.” The smile fell from his face as he took in the scene in the truck.  “Everything alright? Is she okay?”  He gestured at Katie, curled up and quivering silently beside Tanner. Tanner opened his mouth to respond, but Blake was quicker. “Sure, probably just spooked by that fucking mask. Look, we don't mean to bother you people. Just heading east, trying to cross the river. We'll go around you and your little kitchen.”  If the man took issue with Blake's tone, it didn't show.  “Bridge is a no-go, I'm afraid. Pigs blew the cables as they pulled out, some of it collapsed. It's way too unstable to cross.” He scratched at his temple. “What d'you want out that way, anyway? There's dangerous people out there, not exactly safe for… families.”  “We're heading for, uh, Hood River,” Tanner spoke up, “Taking supplies out to the girl's grandparents.”  “Indians,” Blake chimed in, “they need the help.” He winked at Tanner.  The stranger turned to Blake and met his eyes, holding his gaze for an unnerving moment. Then he seemed to resolve some internal discussion, relaxing his shoulders. “Well, you might be able to get across up St. Johns, last I heard the bridge was still intact. There's some folks in the park up there, you can ask them.”  “St. Johns? That's the wrong fucking way!”  “A bridge is a bridge. It's that or swim, champ.” “Can you at least call the, uh, your boss? Tell him you checked us out, ask if we can get across?”  The man smiled, but something hardened behind his eyes.  “My boss? Sure, sure. Look, I think it's time you moved on. Head on up there and tell ‘em what you told me, they'll let you out. There's a bunch of poor Indians waiting for their dinner.”  There was something strange about the way the man said “Indians,” but he patted the hood of the truck and turned away, waving them down a side street away from the barricade. As Blake slowly drove off, Tanner collapsed back into his seat and quickly rolled up the window. His underarms were cold with sweat, and he relaxed muscles he hadn't known were clenched.  Blake took the turn the stranger indicated, muttering that if he heard anyone say “folks” again he would hit them. Tanner stared out the window at the “little kitchen” as they passed. There must have been a couple hundred people, milling around a dozen or so small fires. They were all loosely centered around a large tent directly in front of the scorched skeleton of the precinct. Laughter and music drifted through the open window, and Tanner closed it. He didn't think he could see any aliens, but it was difficult to tell in the dark.  “Collaborators. Must be a ration station or something,” he muttered, mostly to himself.  Lauren heard him. “No, this has been going on much longer than that, it just wasn't so out in the open. Swanson warned us about it. He said they lure hungry people in with food.”  “Yeah,” cut in Blake, “this is how they recruit ‘em. Set up a kitchen, give ‘em food, homeless and crackheads and queers, mostly. Drugs too, probably, and spewing their propaganda. That guy was probably one of the junkies. Sure as shit looked like it, you see the way he stared at me?”  Tanner shuddered. A junkie. He had an overwhelming urge to wash his hands. He remembered the way the man had talked about the police station, his manic laugh in the face of such violence, and glanced back at the quickly fading light. And saw a small figure, tottering at the edge of the firelight. A child.  “Disgusting,” he said out loud.  “Yeah, disgusting. It's like Earl said,” Blake continued, “they been feeding people right under our fucking noses.”  They drove on toward the bridge. The streets were more cluttered here, both with people and the remnants of the riots, and they could only manage a slow pace as they picked their way through the destruction. Blake had to swerve to the wrong side of the road to avoid a group of people carrying trash bags, picking through the rubble.  “Looking for something to eat,” he grunted, and locked the doors.  Signs of violence were everywhere. Tanner's chest tightened as they drove past the law firm where he had started his career—the job that had brought him to the city after he finished college, working for his father's best friend and learning his profession. Inside the shattered windows it was nothing but a shell, the desks overturned and the computers gone. No one would be working there any more.  The destruction was completely random. Violence for its own sake. Beside the firm was a pawn shop, covered in graffiti and looted. Next to that, a Vietnamese restaurant, completely unharmed except for ‘Delicious, 5 stars' sprayed on the pavement outside. Across the road was an untouched convenience store and a bookshop with its doors wide open, light flooding out and people crowding the entrance. A donut shop and an Apple store destroyed, a mechanic and a bar looking like they had simply closed for the night. There was absolutely no pattern or reason to it.  They saw a Fred Meyers with every window broken, the front door jammed open with a twisted shopping cart. A movement caught Tanner's eye and he saw someone leaving from a side door, carrying a huge bag of stolen food. He hoped Blake didn't see—he might do something stupid, and Tanner didn't want to stop. It wasn't safe.  They made it a few more blocks when Lauren gasped and grabbed Blake's arm, making him brake. She gestured across the intersection to a KFC. Half the building had collapsed in what must have been an enormous fire; the half that still stood had been savagely attacked. She pointed to the entrance with a shaking finger. Someone—or something—had toppled the giant bucket sign and sent it crashing through the ceiling of the kitchen. Above the door, someone had scrawled a message in red spray paint:  FUCK YOU SANDERS OUR SECRET SPICES NOW There were more barricades set up near the bridge. Where the others had been makeshift, marking a boundary, these were more serious. They were to stop people getting through. Blake slowed before they got too close to the blockade, which they could now see was lined by shapes that very much suggested people. On both sides of the road the land fell away into darkness, sloping down to become a park that ran beneath the bridge.  The park itself, a rare green space normally dotted with dog walkers and children, was transformed. The once-quiet lawns were a mass of tents and makeshift structures, stages and bars and sound systems, the proud trees now decked out with effigies and lights. Fires burned everywhere, and the distant space was carpeted with a swarming mass of humanity, undulating to a throbbing cacophony of noise.  “This doesn't look good,” said Blake. He pulled over, a hundred yards or so short of the bridge.  “That guy said they would let us through,” said Tanner, “if we stick to our story.”  “He was a junkie,” scoffed Lauren.  “But he thought we were working with them,” said Tanner, “he had no reason to lie to us.”  “I guess it's worth a try. Anyway, they ain't gonna try anything against this much firepower.” Blake grunted. “Too late to change our minds now. They've seen us.”  He nodded at the barricade, where two shapes had detached from the mass. They moved toward the Tacoma, and Blake responded by flicking the lights to high beam and heading to meet them. As Blake swung back out into the road the beams cut through the darkness to illuminate the figures, throwing wild shadows from the two shapes until the truck steadied course and they coalesced into recognisable forms. One was a large man, white, with a nose ring and a loosely-tied blond ponytail. He was wearing a plaid shirt and carrying a large rifle. The other—Tanner's throat caught—the other looked like one of the aliens.  “Shit,” said Blake, as the headlights picked out at least half a dozen more shapes along the barricade, several with big guns visible. “Fuck.” He stopped the truck and rolled down the window, then cursed again and threw open the door.  “I'll be fucked if I'm gonna sit here and be pulled over like some criminal. Tanner, you're with me—let's go meet them man to man.” Tanner scrabbled for the door handle and chased after Blake, half-skipping to catch up. They pulled up a few paces before colliding with the approaching party. The blond man stepped forward.  “How's it going, dude?” he said.  “We need to get to Hood River,” said Blake, “we're trying—” “Yeah, we heard.” The man cut him off. “Bridge is closed to traffic, unfortunately. You wanna cross, you'll have to walk.”  Blake bristled. “Are you joking? We need to bring all this stuff. It's… important,” he objected. “You can't just keep people here!”  “We could,” said the blond man, calmly. He sounded confident in his assertion. Looking at the line of men—and women, Tanner realized—standing along the barricade, he agreed.  “But we're not,” the man continued. “You can go wherever you want. Take your shit, cross the bridge. Some folks have organized buses up the river, they'll take you. But the truck stays.”  “But that's my fucking truck!” Blake squealed. The man's eyebrows shot up and Tanner laid a hand on Blake's shoulder, squeezing it and hoping he got the message. The stranger paused, then sighed.  “Look, I'm sorry dude. I love my truck, too. But there was an attack at another camp last night by these so-called freedom fighters,” he grimaced. “Militia wackjobs, really. Word is they are gathering across the river, and we can't risk weapons and vehicles falling into the wrong hands. Especially not an arsenal like you folks got here.”  The alien stepped forward and, much to Tanner's surprise, spoke in perfect American English.  “Don't worry, it'll be here when you get back. We'll take real good care of it for you. They will appreciate the help guarding the buses and I'm sure they'll be more than happy to help you move these… important supplies.”  They signaled to the group at the barricade and two more figures made their way into the light of the truck's high beams. The first was a slim Black man in fatigues, wearing a red beret at a jaunty angle and carrying a AR-style rifle in one hand. The other was a woman, tall and imposing. She wore a leather jacket over a long black dress, which was slit to the thigh to reveal hints of slim, bare legs that stretched from the pavement to the heavens. Tanner blinked rapidly and swallowed. He had always had a soft spot for long legs in thigh-slit dresses.  As they came closer the man nodded at Tanner and Blake, but he was not what held their attention. The woman with the legs from God was also rocking a luxurious mustache that would have put Teddy Roosevelt to shame. As Tanner's eyes bulged, she caught his gaze and winked.  “Hello, boys. I'm Sunshine, they/them. I'll be with you on the bus.”  Tanner didn't know how to react. A fuzzy memory bounced around in the back of his head. “An investigation on college campuses found that increasing numbers of American citizens are using pronouns.” Earl's bewildered face frowned, then puckered. “These ‘theys' and ‘thems' are making a mockery of the American tradition, seeking to spread their insidious ideology among good, hard-working citizens, brainwashing young Americans into adopting these ‘pronouns.' What's next, people identifying a different age? A different race? We need to speak out against this perverse trend and most importantly, keep them away from our children.” _ That was it. These were the pronouns Swanson had warned them about. He gripped his gun and glanced at Blake, trying to get his mental footing.  Blake looked shocked, too, but quickly pulled himself together. He threw Tanner a sly look, one that hinted at an idea. “Give us a minute,” he snapped, and pulled away from Tanner, back to the truck. When they were both inside he turned on the occupants with a spark in his eyes.  “They must be talking about my boys, alive and kicking,” the old grin was back, his excitement barely contained. “Must have set up in the woods. We'll head over and find ‘em. Maybe they got word from Earl. If they're here, and they're fighting, maybe we don't have to go all the way to Boise after all.” “What's going on?” Lauren looked confused.  “We're leaving the truck. Grab the shit, cross the bridge, hijack their fucking commie-wagon and strike out east. Either we find them in Baker, or our boys find us first.”  Tanner was still coming to grips with the situation. “What about… them?” he said.  “Who?” “They… them. In the dress, with the pronouns!”  “And what are they going to do, stop us? You ever tried to fight wearing something like that? No. The four of us, across the bridge, grab the bus, easy.” “Katie's not hijacking any bus. She's eight, for God's sake. Maybe she and Lauren should stay here…”  “You stay here with Katie,” Lauren snapped, cutting Tanner off. “If you think it's safer, if you're looking for safer, you take her for a nice walk in the park down there. I'll be with my husband, taking my country back from these freaks.”  “I know you want to keep Katie safe,” Blake added, almost apologetically, “but you saw what it's like out there. You heard Swanson's warnings. These aren't people, they're animals, aliens. She's your baby fuckin' girl, man. You do what you're at peace with, but my wife sure as shit ain't staying here to get felt up by some dick in a dress.”  Tanner looked at Lauren. “But she's just a kid! What if she gets hurt.”  “What if she gets hurt _here? So you look after her. Be a man,” Lauren spat back.    Blake clapped Tanner on the shoulder and held his gaze. “It's do or die time, soldier. Let's get the fuck outta here, hook up with the resistance, then bring back the fury of God and freedom and the USA to take back this city and liberate my God damn truck!” Tanner looked at Katie, curled up in the footwell, and wanted to object. He wanted to take her somewhere safe, back to the Hole, where it was warm and they could hide from the aliens and the bad people and they had all the food they could need and they could wait for this all to be over.  But the fire in his belly wouldn't let him. He knew Blake was right, he knew that he should be ashamed of his moments of weakness. He saw Lauren gripping her rifle and staring at Blake with faith and devotion in her eyes and he knew that was the kind of man he wanted to be. Tanner breathed a silent promise to keep Katie safe, no matter the cost.  “Let's do it.” Blake pulled the truck up to the group of guards and they all piled out, Tanner standing straight and feeling tall, Blake's words ringing in his ears. It's do or die time. _ Two of the barricade guards came over to help them unload while the others stood around and watched, their mustachioed escort who made Tanner's skin crawl and the large blond man. Traitor. They stripped off the tray covering and began shifting gear, Blake and blondie up above handing packages down to everyone else. Tanner heard the guards muttering to each other.  “Holy shit, that's a lot of firepower.” The blond man snorted. “And a lot of nasty-ass TV dinners. Important supplies, my ass.”  Sunshine shrugged. “Folks eat what they eat. Not everyone lives in a Whole Foods and learned to make Tom Yum on their gap year,” they rebuked him. The man grimaced and scratched his jaw. “Yeah, right. That was unfair of me. Well, Thai cooking workshop tomorrow and I'll make a big pot, so at least folks here don't have to eat that frozen stuff… unless they want to.” They busied themselves unloading, bundling food and weapons into bags or tying them together for ease of carrying. Tanner was tying the straps of his backpack and settling it on his back when he heard a curse from the back of the truck. He glanced up, and, frozen in time, watched the next few seconds helplessly.  The blond man had pulled out one of the last few satchels, the one containing all their spare clothes. He was standing upright, arms held out, nose ring quivering in silent outrage. In his left hand he had Blake's flag bandana; in his right, Blake's spare jacket, rebel flag patch sitting proudly on the shoulder.  Blake reacted fastest. He dropped the food he was holding, raised his Glock, and with a vengeful crack the blond ponytail exploded in a spray of red.  The man in the beret raised his rifle and fired two shots into Blake's chest, sending him flying from the tray. A scream burst from Lauren as she reached for her gun, but the alien matched the sound and met her with a powerful tackle, sending both of them crashing into a pile of frozen hamburgers. Sunshine reached out and grabbed Tanner's arm. Time snapped back into motion for Tanner. He instinctively pulled away and shook his arm free of the grasping fingers. Stepping back, he spun and swung his fist in a wild roundhouse. It connected with Sunshine's jaw as they overbalanced toward him. Tanner watched them collapse in a heap. His gaze danced over the chaos unfolding around him, frantically searching for Katie. _There. Tanner picked her up and ran.  They plunged off the road and into the darkness. There was only one thought in his mind: get Katie across that bridge. She was sobbing, shaking in his grasp, and Tanner made what he hoped were comforting shushing noises as he ran. He knew this park—there was a staircase inside one of the support towers that rose from the park to the bridge overhead. That was his way out. Holding Katie tightly, breath ragged, he ran toward the orgy of light and noise pulsating below.  The two escapees burst into the mass of people. Tanner looked around, eyes darting, taking in the madness and trying to get his bearings. The sensory assault was overwhelming, but he slowly made out patterns in the polyrhythmic press. What had looked from above like a continuous swell of humanity was actually a hundred, a thousand separate groups and camps and parties. People flowed freely between them, groups forming and merging and coming apart in a chaotic, everchanging anarchy. A makeshift stage to his left throbbed with bass, colliding with the bone-jarring screams and guitars of a group of punks. Tanner found himself surrounded by ecstatic dancers, while a group almost under his feet sat staring into a campfire, oblivious to the rest of the world. He crashed through their doped-out reverie and bounced off two men, locked in a hungry embrace.  Tanner recoiled and turned away, shielding Katie with his body, searching desperately for the tower that would lead him out of this nightmare. Lights flashed, blinding, creating a sort of slideshow of horror as Tanner scanned the crowd. There. He found it. His escape from this festival of the damned. He soldiered on, caught up in a whirl of half-naked dancers, men, women, and everyone else, mindless of the frigid air as they span and writhed in rapture.  Tanner spotted an exit, an island of calm, and dove for it. He exploded from the throng, gasping for air, and breathed in the relative silence. Collecting himself, he was faced with rows of bodies, still, staring at something unseen up ahead, the very air trembling with collective anticipation.  A voice shattered his uneasy reprieve, loud and bombastic and dripping with drama.  “And now, my darlings, it is time for these fuckers to do what I do best—go down!” Tanner dashed through the crowd as they roared and surged into motion, and caught a glimpse of the scene ahead: two lines of people, straining on thick ropes, as a woman in lingerie and feathers pranced like a princess of hell before them. The ropes led upwards, where they were tied around the necks of two enormous metal figures. Lewis and Clark.  Tanner broke into a full sprint, shouldering bodies aside. He was almost there. Up ahead, rising from the chaos, was his stairway to the heavens. His legs trembled and his breath came in ragged sobs, but he couldn't slow down. Not when he was so close. He tore out of the crowd and into the comforting darkness of the spaces in between. His hysterical panic began to subside. One foot in front of the other. Keep running. They were going to make it. As he neared the tower a figure came into view at the base, looming from the shadows of the doorway, staring into the blackness beyond. A stocky, muscled figure wearing fatigues and a plate carrier. It couldn't be… “Blake! Blake, thank God.” Tears welled in Tanner's eyes as he reached his friend. Lauren was nowhere to be seen, but right now Tanner couldn't think about her. He had survived, and he had brought Katie through. His heartbeat was still frantic, but from exertion rather than fear. They were here. He, Katie, and Blake. Emotionally exhausted, physically spent, battered and terrified, but alive. They were going to be okay. He reached out to his friend. Blake turned—No, not Blake. A thick black beard engulfed the shadowy face, momentarily lit by the glowing ember of a huge cigar. The eyes were deep-set and dark, the skin weathered, wrinkled, brown. The face of an illegal alien.  Tanner's throat betrayed him. He squeaked, and nothing more would come out. His knees wobbled and threatened to give way, his feet froze in place. He wavered. He whimpered.  Puffing on the cigar, the alien took in his terrified face and the little girl slung over his shoulder. He gestured toward the doorway and blew out an enormous plume of smoke.  “Go, gringo.”  It was well past midnight when Katie ran into the side of a tent, fell on her bottom, and started crying. They had crossed the bridge, left the highway, and headed for the safety of the forest. Since then they had been wandering among the trees for hours, directionless, driven by fear, then by hope, then exhausted aimlessness. Tanner wasn't going anywhere except away from that park. He had briefly entertained the image of finding a group of militia, sitting around a fire, eating and laughing and, maybe, swapping stories with their old friend Blake. That was hours ago. Visions were fleeting in the fever dream of the forest. Since then, they had walked because they didn't know what else to do. Tanner stumbled over to Katie and collapsed beside her, holding her close and hushing her. He felt like crying too.  A flashlight clicked on inside the tent and a dreadlocked head poked out of the flap.  “Hey, there's someone here!” Rustling erupted from all around and more faces appeared. “Wasn't someone keeping watch?” “I thought you were.” “Doesn't matter, doesn't matter. Someone's crying.” “You folks okay?” Tanner and Katie were soon surrounded by a small group of people. He looked up at them. “Are you the militia?” “No, don't worry. You're safe here. We're friends.” “Although I guess we are a militia if you think about it. Sort of.”  “Shh, don't confuse the poor people. They're terrified.”  “Sorry. No, no militia. Someone get them a blanket and something to drink.” Minutes later, Tanner and Katie were wrapped in sleeping bags, sipping on hot cocoa. It was scalding and familiar and Tanner felt the tension of the past day fading, leaving bone-deep exhaustion in its place.  “Are you okay? What happened?” “Thank you. We were… we just need to sleep.”  “And you? What's your name? Are you alright?” Katie looked at her dad, then stared up from her tin mug. “I'm Katie. I'm scared.” “You're safe now. We'll help you. Look, we'll get you somewhere to sleep.” The first face they had seen rummaged around in a tent and brought out a bag. “Lucky we have a spare tent. I'll just put it up, won't be a second.” The tent was almost up by the time Tanner and Katie finished their drinks, and they got up and walked over, sleeping bags over their shoulders, holding hands. “Hey, thanks,” Tanner said. “I would have helped but I don't really know how. Never had much call for camping. I am, uh, was a lawyer,” he glanced around, “not criminal, uh… intellectual property. Copyright.”  “No problem, of course. Here, it's not hard. I'm just clipping the…” “This isn't the time for camping lessons, Jacob. Anyway, you'll scare the man, sharing information for free like that. They've been through enough already.”  “Sorry, yeah. Look, slide in. Take these sleeping mats. It'll do for tonight, I'll teach you tomorrow.”  Tanner and Katie squeezed into the tent, sleeping bags huddled together on the cold, hard ground, and slept. THE END **Inmn ** 1:03:01 Hello, and welcome to the show. Thank you so much for coming on today. Could you introduce yourself with your name, pronouns, and just a little bit about what you do in the world? **Matt ** 1:03:15 Yeah, hi, I'm Matt. He/him pronouns. And I'm a student again, after a really long time, actually, which is why I've just moved to where I'm living now. But I like to write, you know, mostly for me, and this is the first first thing I've published but I enjoy it. And yeah, I'm really grateful that you've taken an interest in it. **Inmn ** 1:03:37 Yeah, totally. I love the story. So we just listened to the second half of your story, Blood, Soil and Frozen TV Dinners and even though listeners just heard...just heard the whole story, I'm wondering if you could just kind of like walk us through the story in your--you know, from the mouth of the author--what is this story about? **Matt ** 1:04:01 So the story, for me, was about, to some extent, seeing yourself in some ways or, you know, people like you, through the eyes of...through the eyes of someone else, I guess, someone who's very different and might see things in a different way. So I always find it interesting to play with different perspectives or different characters instead of telling the story from a heroic perspective or something. And I wondered what a pathway to a better world might look like from someone who didn't necessarily want that to happen. So we have these, you know, preppers who--call them you want, right-wing conservatives, something like this--and what they might think, given the knowledge that they receive about the world, what they might think is happening when something happens that a lot of the rest of us might want. **Inmn ** 1:05:00 Yeah, totally. I really like how you put that. What was it, like, "a better world that they don't necessarily want?" [both laugh] Okay, well, how did this, how did this story kind of...like how did it come to be? What inspiration did you kind of draw from to craft this situation or these like personalities from Tanner and Blake or Earl Swanson? 1:05:35 Yeah, the story itself, there was a discussion last Halloween, I believe it was, on Coffee With Comrades, there was a interview with Pearson and Margaret Killjoy, talking about the discussion of the monster in literature, which is where I first took the idea that they were talking about seeing yourself as the monster in this idea and sometimes reveling in that or perhaps enjoying it. And that was where the first idea came from. And then the most specific layout of the story or main theme, I guess, was, I was doing something on the US Tax Office website. And there's this whole section for aliens, right, if you're an alien in the U.S., these are the tax rules you need to follow. And I just thought it was a funny word. You know, I'd seen it on Fox News or something before but it just struck me as really weird in such an official position. Yeah, and I just was playing with the ideas of this and, you know, I like thinking about utopias and things. And this is where the like the main shape of the story had come from, just the idea of seeing the monster, seeing the alien from there. And then specific characters, I mean, some of them are just kind of people that I've met, you know, Tanner and Blake, specifically, and I think Earl Swanson's character, I mean--I don't know it's possibly libelous--but we can probably figure out who that's meant to be, right? I think it's reasonably obvious. **Inmn ** 1:07:09 Totally, totally. Yeah. Yeah. No, that's super interesting. Yeah, it's funny, I was rereading the story today to prepare for this interview and I realized that the first time that I was reading it, because of this perspective of the.... I'm like, okay, I know, these are some, you know, at least center-right, far-right preppers and they're using the word "alien" and I don't actually know what they mean by this, which was, you know, maybe a purposeful being vague about it, but I was like, I don't know if they think that it's, you know, illegal aliens or undocumented  migrants or whatever or if they mean, like, literal from outer space aliens. And, yeah, I was like, I don't know what they mean by what they're talking about. And maybe they don't either.   1:08:20 This was part of the conceit, right, was setting it up like it's a pretend big reveal, I think, that it's a twist in the story that at some point gets revealed, but that's not really the point. It's not really meant to be a big trick or something like this, you know? I think in discussions in the editing, we talked about in the first page or so when they speaking Arabic, and it's reasonably obvious to anyone that knows Arabic who these people are, you know, it's not hidden, but this was the idea, that they may have meant illegal alien all along, was, you know, the way they we're using the term, but that they weren't necessarily drawing so much of a distinction between the two uses of the word alien, that in their minds a, sort of, invasion by one was the same as the invasion by the other to some extent. **Inmn ** 1:09:10 Yeah, which, you know, I actually really love that from the perspective of.... It's like maybe an interesting twist. I didn't listen to that interview with Pearson and Margaret, so I'm not sure what they talked about, but there's this kind of idea in a lot of spaces that I've been part of,you know, when people talk about things like assimilation or something, especially in queer spaces, of like, "We have to seem harmless to them. We have to seem innocent. We have to seem like we just want to be part of the group," you know, and then this other side that's like, "No, we want to be unknowable. We are claiming the monstrosity that they are putting on us," and I'm like, yeah, we're fucking.... I don't know, anarchists are kind of aliens, like, in an entirely other way of thinking, you know? 1:10:09 Yeah, and just considering some social norms is completely irrelevant or harmful or repressive and other things that other people would consider, perhaps, violent or something seem completely okay to other people. There is a complete sort of alienation of perspective from broader society, I think. And yeah, it is, there's a tension between sometimes wanting to go unnoticed, or, as you say, like assimilate, and even, for me, walking around, you know, sometimes you want to look like an anarchist and sometimes you don't. It's an interesting dynamic, I guess, that you can switch sometimes day-to-day. **Inmn ** 1:10:54 Yeah, yeah. Have you read much of--you know, love talking about this person on the show--have you read much of Ursula Le Guin's Hainish Cycle? 1:11:08 I've read only "The Dispossessed" and "The Left Hand of Darkness".  **Inmn ** 1:11:16 Great examples. I think "The Left Hand of Darkness," kind of brings out this idea of where the reader is going to maybe most identify with the alien, or whatever, in "The Left Hand of Darkness" being not the not the Gethens--or I don't remember what they're called. But then it's like, the more that we're reading the book... or there's some times where I'm this alien or, you know, our perspective person just doesn't understand this culture. And that's really painful. And then there are other times when I'm like, I don't know, maybe the alien's perspectives on the world are far more dissimilar to what a normal person on like our planet Earth would think, because they're advocating for a better world that is very alien to people on this planet. Does that make sense? **Matt ** 1:12:24 Yeah, I mean, in "The Dispossessed," I think it's the same dynamic with Shevak coming back to Earth and presenting the perspective, both ways that it seems incredibly alien to him and then the other way around to everyone else that's there, to the general culture there. Yeah. I think it's an interesting literary device to present the outsider point of view, I think, which I mean, is quite the opposite of what I did in this story, I presented the more mainstream point of view, I guess, but from the circles that we're in, it's funny to see from the outside what that looks like. **Inmn ** 1:13:02 Yeah, yeah, I had this very silly idea once for...I don't know if it was gonna be a short story or what but kind of, using that "alien" trope or like "Stranger in a Strange Land" trope as a way to talk to my parents about anarchism or about radical queer spheres. **Matt ** 1:13:27 Yeah, I mean, that's about as alien as it can get for a lot of people's parents, right. **Inmn ** 1:13:31 Totally. But just as some funny little zine that's like an introduction to the punk house, you know? **Matt ** 1:13:44 Yeah, viewed as some sort of interesting zoo creatures. **Inmn ** 1:13:46 Yeah. I was wondering if you could talk a little bit about the kind of political renderings of Tanner and Blake or ,rather, their differences in how they perceive or interact with either preparedness or this new world that they're encountering? **Matt ** 1:14:14 Yeah, I think that Blake's character is a lot.... He knows what he's doing, right? It's a lot more intentional and more--I guess educated is maybe not quite the right word--but a lot more of an actually constructed ideology, whereas for Tanner it's very much received. He's not so keen, not so entirely sold on the idea or doesn't necessarily know the idea. It feels like it's like lost and failing a lot of the time and I think that's why I found him a much more interesting character because that's how I feel a lot of people that I know and talk to and family members and friends and things or friends of people I know get pulled into a lot of these, you know, reactionary ideologies is kind of by accident a lot of the time, right? Because it's what's presented and what they're drawn into by someone who has a lot more investment in it than they do. And they just kind of bumble into it almost by accident. Yeah. **Inmn ** 1:15:20 Because it's what they're seeing on TV. People who are deeper into that philosophy are like.... It's like the people that they're around who are their own little echo chambers of, "Oh, okay, there's this thing happening. Not sure how I feel about it. But I'm being like, fed this perspective on it." **Matt ** 1:15:46 Yeah, and a lot of the social or interpersonal issues that draw people in as well, I think. I tried to make it seem relatively obvious that Tanner is envious of Blake in a lot of ways, right? He is, you know, hotter than him and he is cooler than him and he knows more than him and he's always trying to, like, live up to this ideal that he has just completely interpersonally with no politics or anything in it. And he just wants to live up to what he thinks Blake wants him to be, which it turns out, is a bad thing. I mean, I'm not trying to excuse Tanner's character too much here. But yeah, I think this is what's really dangerous a lot of the time actually, for people who don't necessarily have a fully formed belief in all of these philosophical systems or something that then puts them on the wrong side not by...not necessarily out of evil intention. **Inmn ** 1:16:54 Yeah. No, that's very true. And it's interesting talking about not excusing Tanner's character too much, but as I was reading the story I found myself like, not necessarily rooting for Tanner and Bl

This month, I've got the joy of introducing you to Dr Thomas Birkett, a lecturer in Old English and Old Norse at University College Cork, Ireland. He is the author of Reading the Runes and Legends of Norse Mythology. He teaches courses on Norse myth, medieval literature, and Old English language at UCC, and occasionally takes time out to sail with the crew of a reconstructed Viking ship. In this conversation, we chat about some Norse legends, the difficulties of trying to reconstruct a practice from the Norse myths, and why the Norse myths have survived thanks to their historical context! Buy Legends of Norse Mythology: Enter a world of gods, giants, monsters and heroes at https://amzn.to/3RBwRwg (affiliate link). Find Dr Birkett on X at @NorseinCork. Get your free guide to home protection the folklore way here: https://www.icysedgwick.com/fab-folklore/ Become a member of the Fabulous Folklore Family for bonus episodes and articles at https://patreon.com/bePatron?u=2380595 Fabulous Folklore Bookshop: https://uk.bookshop.org/shop/fabulous_folklore Enjoyed this episode and want to show your appreciation? Buy Icy a coffee to say 'thanks' at: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick Pre-recorded illustrated talks: https://ko-fi.com/icysedgwick/shop Request an episode: https://forms.gle/gqG7xQNLfbMg1mDv7 Get extra snippets of folklore on Instagram at https://instagram.com/icysedgwick 'Like' Fabulous Folklore on Facebook: https://www.facebook.com/fabulousfolklore/ Find Icy on BlueSky: https://bsky.app/profile/icysedgwick.bsky.social Tweet Icy at https://twitter.com/IcySedgwick

Rasmus Boström is a professional hunter & outdoor gear ambassador in Älvdalen, Sweden. After readings about Scandinavian bear hunting folklore & shape-shifting in the Old Norse sagas, we learn about a regional language & the area's hunting culture. From there it's hunting history with wolf-posse laws & bear spears. Rasmus then describes the Swedish brown bear & taking part in scat-gathering studies. After some background information about the modern bear hunt with hounds, he tells a harrowing story about tracking a wounded bear. For the last third we switch to a handful of other outdoorsman topics: bird hunting from skis; Ullr the Norse hunting god; marten trapping with deadfalls; a first time hunt custom, and invasive mink hunting on small islands in the name of sea bird conservation. Outdoor gear & apparel: Astro Sweden & Bearskin on YouTube.Reading excerpts from The Lycanthropy Reader: Werewolves in Western Culture edited by Charlotte F. Otten and Scandinavian Folk Belief and Legend edited Reimund Kvideland & Henning K. Sehmsdorf.Art reference images: "Return of the Bear Hunter" by Adolph Tidemand"Wild Bird Hunters" by Knud BergslienUllr [Norse hunting god] on the Böksta runestone"Hårgalåten"Swedish folk songPerformed by Nyckelharpa Tunes"Vid Stormyren"Written by Eric SahlströmPerformed by Nyckelharpa Tunes"Säkkijärven polkka"Finnish folk songPerformed by Nyckelharpa TunesSupport Our Numinous Nature on Patreon.Follow Our Numinous Nature & my naturalist illustrations on InstagramCheck out my shop of shirts, prints, and books featuring my artContact: herbaceoushuman@gmail.com

Support this podcast on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/historyofvikingDuring the Middle Ages, seafaring Scandinavian marauders wrought havoc in lands both near and far—from Iceland to Finland, and Córdoba to Constantinople. These were warriors who belonged to an altogether violent society. They are known to us today as Vikings. One may read about their military exploits in Old Norse sagas and the chronicles of Christian monks; walk across the remains of warships and ring fortresses, or behold their carefully preserved weapons in some of Europe's finest museums. Yet, it has always been unclear to me how the Vikings fought. Did they use battle tactics? Were young warriors formally trained for battle? How should we understand warfare as it relates to the Viking way of life? Today on the podcast, we'll be addressing all of this and more in an exciting episode about Viking combat. Joining me to discuss this topic is William R. Short, manager and lead researcher of Hurstwic, a New England-based organization devoted to Viking culture. In addition to co-authoring his latest book, William wrote Viking Weapons and Combat Techniques along with Icelanders in the Viking Age. I'm also joined today by Reynir A. Óskarson, an Icelandic martial arts instructor and combat researcher at Hurstwic. Reynir has been recognized by the Wrestling Association of Iceland for his study of glíma, the Viking-age empty-hand combat that evolved into Iceland's national sport.William and Reynir authored a book entitled Men of Terror: A Comprehensive Analysis of Viking Combat.Email Noah with ideas for future episodes: noah@thehistoryofvikings.comMusic: Danheim – Framganga & FolkvangrSupport this podcast on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/historyofviking

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for November 21, 2023 is: ransack • RAN-sak • verb To ransack a place is to search it for something in a way that causes disorder or damage. // My sister ransacked my room looking for the shoes I had borrowed (and returned). See the entry > Examples: “Now, I didn't pick up any Halloween candy on this particular Costco trip for one big reason. If I bring home a giant sack of assorted goodies, my kids will ransack that stash in short order.” — Maurie Backman, The Motley Fool, 12 Sept. 2023 Did you know? Ransack carries the image of a house being roughly disarranged, as might happen when you are frantically searching for something. This is appropriate given the word's origin. Ransack comes, via Middle English, from the Old Norse word rannsaka: the rann in rannsaka means “house”; the second half of rannsaka is what is known as an “ablaut” variant of sœkja, meaning “to seek, search out.” But our modern use of the word isn't restricted to houses. You can ransack a drawer, a suitcase, or even (by hurriedly looking through it) the contents of a book. Ransack also inspired another English word related to disorder and unsteadiness. A now-obsolete form of ransack, ransackle, gave us our adjective ramshackle, meaning “rickety” or “carelessly or loosely constructed.”

My special guest is Nick Redfern who's here to discuss his new book called Werewolf Stories: Shape-Shifters, Lycanthropes, and Man-Beasts. Get it on Amazon. Beware the Full Moon! Take a hair-raising tour of werewolf legends. Meet shape-shifters, dogmen, and all variety of human and lupine mixes in this blood curling story collection from two distinguished paranormal researchers! From today's lycanthropic creatures found in pop culture such as Dracula, Twilight and An American Werewolf in London to the earliest mentions in folklore of the shape-shifting legend, Werewolf Stories: Shape-Shifters, Lycanthropes, and Man-Beasts is an eye-opening tour through the ages of all things werewolf. Along the way, readers land at the doorstep of creatures like serial killer Fritz Haarmann, tiger people and their thirst for human blood, Romulus and Remus, the legendary founders of Rome, shapeshifters of all kinds and sizes, and even a spell to repel werewolves. This fascinating tome provides 140,000 years of blood-pounding evidence of strange and obsessional behavior. It tells of stories of becoming a werewolf and the intricacies of slaying the beast. A true homage to the creature, it includes full moon of topics such as … Fenrir, the wolf child of the giantess Angrboda and the god Loki, from the Old Norse myth of RagnarokNotorious serial killers, including Peter Stumpp and Michael Lupo, who thought themselves to be—and modeled their crimes on—werewolvesCoyote people, tricksters, and were-animals of Navajo legendThe Basque butchers of Louisiana and the loup-garouDiana, the goddess of the wilderness and the hunt, and her pack of hunting dogs, who once ruled all the dark forests of EuropeLeopard creature-men and the deadly cult whose members expressed their were-leopard lust for human blood and flesh that has been in existence in West Africa for several hundred yearsThe “werewolf of the Dordogne,” Francis Leroy, and his uncontrollable bloodlust during the full moonThe secret terrorist group Organization Werewolf, established in 1923, and its possible allegiance to Adolf HitlerGhouls from Arabic folklore, the demonic Djinns that hover near burial grounds and sustain themselves on human flesh stolen from gravesTasmania's thylacine and sightings of the “probably extinct” creature and its remarkable—and frightening—jaw capacityAlaska's Kushtaka and other stories of the Bigfoot man-beastPuerto Rico's chupacabra and its powerful goat-like legs, three-clawed feet, and penchant for sucking bloodThe Doñas de Fuera of Sicily, small fairies who looked human, aside from their paw-like feet, and were cruel and dangerous when crossedEnkidu, perhaps our earliest written record of a man-beast that appears on a Babylonian fragment circa 2000 BCE and tells the story of King Gilgamesh and his werewolf-like friend in The Epic of GilgameshAnd many more stories and histories of werewolves, night-stalkers, lycanthropes, and man-beastsNoted cryptozoologists and paranormal researchers Nick Redfern and Brad Steiger share personal stories and encounters with werewolves in Werewolf Stories. They take a deep dive into the legends, the history, the pop-culture take on the man-beast. It's a wild and weird road-trip into the mystery-filled domain of the disturbingly real world of shape-shifters and werewolves! It's super easy to access our archives! Here's how: iPhone Users:Access Mysterious Radio from Apple Podcasts and become a subscriber there or if you want access to even more exclusive content join us on Patreon. Android Users:Enjoy over 800 exclusive member-only posts to include ad-free episodes, case files and more when you join us on Patreon.  Copy and Paste our link in a text message to all your family members and friends! We'll love you forever! (Check out Mysterious Radio!)

In this week's episode, Dan is joined by Rebecca Merkelbach for spooky season! They get chatting about Draugrs, Trolls and all manor of Monsters in Norse Literature.------------------------------------------------Follow Rebecca on X (Twitter):@beccamerkelbachFollow the Podcast on Instagram:@nordicmythologypodcastIf you like what we do, and would like to be in the audience for live streams of new episodes to ask questions please consider supporting us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/NordicMythologypodcastCheck out Dan's company, Horns of Odin, and the wide range of handmade items inspired by Nordic Mythology and the Viking Age. Visit: https://www.hornsofodin.comSupport the show

Dr. Natalie Van Deusen, a professor of Scandinavian Studies at the University of Alberta, joins Lexie to discuss how to be a philologist and navigate runes in Old Norse studies, whether female warriors like Lagertha from Vikings could have existed, and gives her a crash course on Norse mythology from the Valkyries and Freyja to Freyja's cats and the Giants. So tuck in your togas and hop aboard Trireme Transit for this week's exciting odyssey! Don't forget to follow us on social media @The Ozymandias Project or visit our website www.theozymandiasproject.com!   Learn more about Dr. Van Deusen: https://apps.ualberta.ca/directory/person/vandeuseFollow her on Twitter: https://twitter.com/nvandeusen?lang=enCheck out Dr. Van Deusen's publications on Academia: https://ualberta.academia.edu/NatalieVanDeusenSupport us on Patreon: https://www.patreon.com/TheOzymandiasProject Custom music by Brent Arehart of Arehart Sounds and edited by Kevin Walker.  Get exclusive bonus content (ad free episodes, early releases, and experimental content) on Patreon! Hosted on Acast. See acast.com/privacy for more information.

Merriam-Webster's Word of the Day for October 10, 2023 is: berserk • ber-SERK • adjective Berserk generally means “markedly out of control due to intense anger or excitement.” It is often used in the phrase go berserk, which can mean either “to become very excited” or “to become very angry and often violent.” // The crowd went wild with berserk fans screaming as the main act finally hit the stage. See the entry > Examples: “The actor made his nightly entrance at the Roxy from the lobby to the stage, belting out the signature tune. … ‘Tim's entrance was phenomenal,' recounts David Foster, the Grammy-winning composer and producer, who early in his career was the show's pianist. ‘The place just went berserk because, of course, he was so much bigger than life.'” — Steve Appleford, The Los Angeles Times, 18 July 2023 Did you know? Combine a bear with a shirt and what do you get? A cuddly, honey-loving, ursine pal, perhaps. Combine the words bear and shirt however, at least in Old Norse, and you get something quite different. Our English word berserk comes from the Old Norse noun berserkr, which is likely a combination of ber- (“bear”) and serkr (“shirt”). According to Norse legend, berserkers were not ones to say “Oh bother” when faced with sticky situations—they were warriors who wore bearskin coverings and worked themselves into such frenzies during combat that they became immune to the effects of steel and fire. Berserk was borrowed into English (first as a noun referring to such a warrior) in the 19th century, when interest in Scandinavian myth and history was high. It was considered a slang term at first, but it has since gained broader use.

What do you do after a successful killing spree? Kill some more! At least that seems to be Havard of Isafjord's motto. There's a certain logic to it as one killing begets another. But Thorbjorn has a lot of brothers and there's only so much killing Havard can do before he needs to find a sweet spot to hide out. Perhaps that nice fella from the Althing who offered his help will provide the protection Havard needs? This episode moves quick. We meet some new characters, see some familiar faces, and get a shocking surprise involving two young boys who stand up to a local bully. We also spend some time talking Old Norse poetry. All in all, a good time. One more episode of Havard's saga to go before we take it to the Saga Thing! Music Credits Intro Music - "Prelude and Action" by Kevin MacLeod Link: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/4236-prelude-and-action License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license Review Music - "The Royal Vagabond Medley" by Jocker's Dance Orchestra Poetry Music - – “Fornheim” by Danheim Outro Music - "Stormfront" by Kevin MacLeod Link: https://incompetech.filmmusic.io/song/4421-stormfront License: https://filmmusic.io/standard-license

Nothing is more powerful than words. Yet we seldom realize that our most private thoughts and emotions are not actually our own. For we think in terms of languages and images, which we did not invent, but which were given to us by our society. Today, we go deep into the power of words and much more with our guest, Dr. Valerie Fridland. Dr. Valerie Fridland is a professor of linguistics at the University of Nevada in Reno. She writes a popular language blog on psychology today called Language in the Wild. Her new book is the number one bestseller. It's called, Like, Literally, Dude, arguing for the good in bad English. So if you love words, thinking, and thinking about words, you're gonna love Dr. Valerie. You're listening to Christopher Lochhead: Follow Your Different. We are the real dialogue podcast for people with a different mind. So get your mind in a different place, and hey ho, let's go. Dr. Valerie Fridland on how Language evolves over time The conversation starts with Christopher asking if the emergence of new phrases that some people dislike is a part of how language changes and develops. Dr. Valerie Fridland explains that language evolution involves a combination of factors, including how our brains and mouths work, societal influences, and the goal of maximizing communication with minimal effort. Language not only conveys information but also communicates social facts and signals about relationships and context. Dr. Valerie mentions that language naturally tends to become more efficient in terms of pronunciation over time. For instance, sounds that are harder to articulate tend to simplify, such as the evolution of "th" sounds into sounds like "f" or "v." Despite these natural linguistic changes, people often criticize them as lazy or uneducated. Christopher shares examples of pronunciation differences he's noticed over time, like the word "details" and "insurance". Dr. Valerie explains that these changes often involve shifts in stress patterns, where certain syllables become emphasized while others are de-stressed. This shift in stress patterns can be influenced by various factors, including the influence of other languages or dialects. The shifting of words due to culture and society Dr. Valerie and Christopher then continue the discussion about the shift of words due to cultural and contextual changes over time.  They explore the evolution of the word "stone" from its Old English origins as "stainaz" to its modern form, which was influenced by contact with Old Norse and Anglo Norman French. This emphasizes how language changes in response to historical interactions and influences. They also discuss the evolution of the word "partner" and how it reflects changes in societal attitudes towards relationships. Initially associated with business partnerships, "partner" expanded to include romantic or committed relationships, especially within the LGBTQ+ community as social acceptance grew. Younger generations commonly use "partner" to refer to their significant others, regardless of their gender or marital status. Valerie explains that language adapts to describe new concepts or changing social norms, often by repurposing existing words rather than creating entirely new ones. Dr. Valerie Fridland on Neologism Neologism refers to the creation of entirely new words, not borrowed from other languages. Christopher initially confuses neologism with someone who invents new words, but Dr. Valerie Fridland clarifies that it involves creating completely new words. They discuss examples related to language innovation. Christopher mentions how businesses like Starbucks introduce new words or repurpose existing ones to create new categories, as seen with "latte" and "grande." Valerie explains that these are not neologisms but rather the borrowing or repurposing of words. The conversation delves into the concept of creating new words through morphological processes like adding suffixes, as seen with "palooza" and "gate.

In Old Icelandic,'hús-brenna' means 'house burning', and it was a form of homicide by arson used to settle a vendetta, and sometimes used during political conflicts in medieval Scandinavia. Its sole purpose, make no mistake, was assassination. And it's terrifying.See omnystudio.com/listener for privacy information.

Now is the hour come… for us to read one of our favorite passages in all of The Lord of the Rings! Need brooks no delay, so join Alan and Marcel now as the time has come for Théoden and Rohan to ride to the rescue of Minas Tirith in the second half of The Ride of the Rohirrim! The wind is changing for the better, Théoden gives the best pre-game speech, and we talk about the ‘noble savage' trope as best we can. Alan interviews Marcel, who's been talking Tolkien on the internet for a very long time indeed. And Alan gamely tries to read part of the Völuspá - in Old Norse.