My wife and I are living in northern Sweden and looking forward to the Midsommar holiday celebrations this week. However, we actually had to ask one of the locals yesterday, “is it summer yet?” True, we have not seen snow on the ground in, well, maybe four weeks… but it’s hard to believe we are hitting the “halfway point” where the days start to become longer again. Enjoy summer while it lasts!
Frigg is worried sick about Baldur. He’s been gone to Midgard for several weeks now without sending a message home. Frigg knows her son is naive in the ways of the world, and being in the care of Uncle Loki only makes things worse.
And nevermind the hype about elves being an enlightened, noble race. Hitchhiking elves will rob you blind!
Walpurgis has arrived. The time of the year when humans lift their heads from the melting muck of winter to pay respect to the gods of spring. A day of great reverence and respect for the gods. And of getting loaded.
Odin shall prove the respect of the humans with the May Day Hangover.
Happy Walpurgis, Beltane, Valborg, Vappu… Spring. Ride your horse responsibly and please don’t barf on my shoes.
In honor the beginning of Spring, Odin has decided to give the humans a respite from his temper and wrath. For one week only he shall not disintegrate another human being, no matter what the offense. No insult is too grave, no words too harsh. But the music of Joni Mitchell… that might be another story.
I’m not sure why atheists would be summoned to participate in a week of blasphemy, since they don’t believe in god or gods in the first place, but it seemed funny to me. Kind of like something you would see in a Chick Comic. “Hey, Fred, lets go hang out with the atheists and blaspheme.” “Right, Mike, bring your dungeons and dragons books so we can summon the devil at the same time.”
Regarding Joni Mitchell… I completely understand why some people cannot handle listening to, say, Napalm Death. Or Emperor. Or Slayer. Hence, such music is generally not played in doctor’s offices, supermarkets, or places where the insane are convalescing. Yet Joni Mitchell is also capable of creating feelings of gut wrenching anxiety and despair for many people in this world, and gets played routinely in all those places. Okay, I’m not sure about insane asylums, but I wouldn’t doubt it. Why the double standard?
Since I arrived in Sweden, I’ve been seeing tulips everywhere. First in the grocery stores, and now waging battle against the receding snow from patches of earth outside. They are hardy flowers to be sure. However, I have yet to see any tulips with extensible stems of this capacity. Probably because the telescopic tulip is only found in Asgard. And high quality elfshit fertilizer not yet available on Midgard.
Speaking of fertilizer made from sentient creatures, I was a little shocked when I first started learning about “designer excrements” available for purchase. Sure, everyone knows about cow manure, but how about milorganite? It’s a fancy term for the processed shit of the city of Milwaukee. They whip up a similar concoction from the turds of Boston. You can’t help but wonder if a little bit of the city character winds up in such brews. People in Milwaukee drink a lot of beer, so I imagine their shit is good for growing barley and hops. Boston is a city of colleges, so it’s probably good for growing those fancy kinds of lettuce you find in the supermarket nowadays. Elves, on the other hand, are creatures of magic, so elfshit is undoubtedly your best medium for growing mysterious flowers, man-sized carnivorous plants, and of course, psychotropic “magic” mushrooms.
The belligerent glacial lilly rallies his brothers and sisters to rise with him and conquer new lands. But lo, what is this… the Great Beast of the Cloudberry Bush has awoken. Come hither, foul creature, and taste the sharp edge of the pistil blade.
Odin rewards valor, and thankfully our little sprout friend now has a permanent seat at the salad bar in Valhalla. Remember, one man’s dragon is another man’s rabbit. Or a plant’s rabbit. Or something like that…
American tax day tomorrow. Good luck, folks.
The Glacier Lilly Prayer
Hear me, great earth!
Far too long I have lay in waiting.
The melt of the avalanche has given strength to my petals.
Torrrents of mighty chlorophyl course through my veins.
Soon my brothers shall join me.
We shall spread across the earth in an orgy of propagation and slaughter.
– Thane Bob Grimword
Frigg is excited that Baldur, her youngest son, is finally building his own mead hall and leaving home. Odin warns her not to say goodbye just yet. Baldur lacks the fortitude to deforest a hillside and transform it into a wooden palace of drinking, boasting, and rowdy romping. Right now his little lordship is probably apologizing to some robin for even thinking about disturbing her nest. Meanwhile, Thor is wondering where to put the 30,000 used tires that Baldur ordered for his ecofriendly mead hall.
I’m not sure how Odin has managed to kick his sons out of the house without any feet, but I never intended these comics to be completely literal. In any case, Frigg is dejected that her young son is leaving home, but Baldur comforts her, saying his new mead hall will be just over the ridge.
Vidar and Vali both left home after drunken brawls with Odin, and Thor was tossed out by the horns after he broke the bed with one of his giantessa girlfriends. Frigg cries tears of joy. Baldur is going to be first child to leave home without his father’s foot in his ass!
Odin returns from his travels and brings Frigg a gift of flowers. Odin may be a God of War, but he is also a God of Poetry (and perhaps, dare be considered, has a little romantic streak?) Comic slightly rebooted with polished graphics for Valentine’s Day, 2015.
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