Location: the waves, the ocean

Hoist the sails, raise yer bloody goblets, ahoy & onward me laddies!

Tuesday, April 26, 2005

The Vikings

In these idle times after warring, when victory lays 'pon me lap ready for roughing up, aye, I oft entertain notions brought to me thinking by me maties. 'Tis part of the territory of cap'nhood, aye, to be democratic in one's cosmologies, methinks. And so 'tis that, alas, me pen shall finally fall 'pon one of the great subjects of debate o'er the years. A laddie we'll call Whale Pizzle, dealt with accordingly ye shall see, promoted the nonsense idea that a ship of vikings could take me ship of pirates without any considerable difficulty. To this, naturally, me says cockamamie. Vikings, noble though they be, keep their eyes focused 'pon Valhalla, they do, which gives them some disadvantage when warring because the afterlife they envision is comparable to the life of the pirate. When we wage war, we do so with the vision of pluner & spoil & drink & carnal relations set just past the horizon of battle, with our same blood flowing through our veins, aye, & the same souls awash in our blood. For a viking, I aver, all such visions are relegated to the realm of Valhalla, they are, & hence a viking will more readily give his life in battle, like a present in earnest, so he may sit at that great table & partake of the endless mutton, his goblet, finally, full. Aye, the spoils of Valhalla are the quotidian playthings of the pirate ship. There be merit in hoping after fanciful repast, but I say there be greater merit in enjoying it day in & day out, laddies. Vikings, they have some heart I merit, aye, but a little heart will not a ship sail, lads, nor a broadside endure. Our appetite is for this life, ere we be hanged 'pon the shore like the bonny prince. Aye, & our rosebuds be brandy & port & whiskey & rum, & our daffodils be those unspeakable regions of the deep! A pirate's life for me, for your captain aye, & all vikings be damned!


Anonymous Anonymous said...

is Whale Pizzle a big fella?

10:10 AM  
Blogger henry dagger said...

Whale Pizzle, sadly incommensurate with 'is title, aye, is but a scrawny runt, doubtless the shortest lad of his stock I wager. Perhaps the implication of a pizzle's use might conjur something closer to an appropriate branding on the lad, for, like a dried whale-codpiece, he be there but for the grace of whipping, aye (& jerkey on an off month).

10:14 AM  
Anonymous Dirty MuleBeard said...

Aye, these vikings are noble enough, but their reverence of fur and horns upon their heads -- floating cannonballs! Get thee to a sartorial presentation of some kind, learn to look like thee be of the sea, not some dungeon or dragon space!

I recall when you yourself, Dagger, were threatened by one Hjört Ingulbjørn. Where be he now? Pansy vikings.

10:48 AM  
Blogger henry dagger said...

I'll tell ye where he has not been, aye, for since I dispatched of he & his hirsute brethren, the high seas have proven the jewel of one cap'n & his noble crew, aye, I tell ye Mulebeard the seas be our own, the waves our sovereignty, aye. Hjort, to ye, wherever ye be, if ye wish to contradict me thesis I'll bring yer fjording skif to the sand!

10:58 AM  
Anonymous Hjört Ingulbjørn, viking said...

Dagger! By Thor's mighty hammer, thou shalt pay for thine hubris. For thousands of years my mighty brethren have terrorized both sea and land, and for thousands of years we shall continue. Your band of buccaneers is but a moment's blight upon the fair seas. What know ye of cold-hearted discipline? What know ye of the woman's cry for mercy, the sound of the child's skull shattering under a freshly carved club of finest ash? What know ye of the glorious horrors that do beset the Norseman each day? Ye be not man enough to come before Thor, nor Odin, nor even the navish rogue-god Loki, who is not without some honor to separate himself from such south-tending folk as yourself. Verily, in the last days of Ragnarok, when the gods and men of this earth shall perish, and thou shalt come under final judgment, neither dagger nor quill shall protect ye from the terror bourne upon the mighty Naglfar*. Neither Thor nor Jormungand shall give quarter to you in those days. May you be buried with your nails long, and may you find your end as naught but the punchline of an oft-repeated joke 'tween tankards of mead and roast legs of fowl in the glorious halls of Valhalla!

*Naglfar: The ship made from dead men's nails. It will carry the giants into battle against the gods at Ragnarok. The size of the ship will depend on how many men are buried with their fingernail's uncut. It is also told that Ragnarok can be delayed by making sure that dead men's nails are cut before they are buried, thus delaying the building of Naglfar.

6:49 AM  
Anonymous Whale Pizzle said...

Let me first say that I am in complete agreement with the words of my honored countryman, Hjört Ingulbjørn. A simple oarsman such as myself could not hope to state with such clarity, passion, and precision the disdain all of my kind feel for such rogues as Dagger. Second, let me address some misconceptions about Valhalla. I think our famous Norse pop star, Bølundä Karnwëlt, put it best:
"They do say that in Valhalla, boodthirsty killing comes first / Argh, Valhalla be a place 'pon this Earth!"
Most modern-day Vikings still believe in Thor, Odin, Loki, and the other lesser gods, as well as such great demon-serpents as Jormungand. However, only the most fanatical Viking fundamentalists go about spouting off the imminent terrors of Ragnarok and the imminent coming of the Naglfar. These extremists do not represent common Viking opinion. We are very much a people who desires nothing more than to live in our own way, and to enjoy the pleasures of boatsmanship, slaughter, pillage, drink, and bloodthirsty mayhem upon this earth in the time in which we live here. Sure, sometimes our eyes fill with mist at the thought of Valhalla's promise, but our day-to-day concerns are certainly enough to keep us firmly focused on the matter at hand, be it the rapid dispatch of a band of pirates, or the cruel torture and dismemberment of men, women and children from neighboring tribes.
Finally, as to the issue of leadership upon the high seas, I see no merit to Mr. Dagger's arguments. It is not a matter of argumentation, but a fact as sure as the fact that the Mjollnir, Thor's mighty hammer, shall always strike its target and return. The hammer works that way because it was so made by Brokk and Sindri in days of old. Similarly, the ways of sea and land domination were created and predestined long ago by the ancient ones. The Vikings shall rule, aye, that be certain. Short in stature though I be, my beard is long, my club is lifted high as my bloodlust, and none but the mighty judges of Ragnarok are counting the heads that fall in my path.

7:07 AM  

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