How can Frigg celebrate Midsummer when there is still snow in her flower beds? The long winters and short summers of Asgard are starting to wear on her. Perhaps it’s time to move to a warmer climate… somewhere like Florida? Can Odin wait for the Ragnarok to begin from Miami Beach?
Odin has no desire to live in a troll-infested swamp. He uses his god powers in one of the wisest possible ways… keeping his wife happy.
I’m a little embarrassed to admit that today’s Odin and Friends was inspired by Garfield, but just as one should respect tradition in saga literature, so its the same with cartoonery. Don’t worry, Odin won’t be eating lasagna anytime soon.
Please don’t accuse this comic of not being festive. I do my best to treat all holidays with complete irreverence. Have a great day throwing up.
Odin realizes that not every man was born a poet. That some of us jumble our words and can’t figure out whether the word for strange is spelled “weird,” “wierd”, or “wyrd.” That most of us don’t prance around talking to the heavens all day but only when our head is on the block.
So when you do manage to cough out a prayer, don’t make the mistake of this bold knight and just recycle the one from Conan the Barbarian. Yes, the Conan Prayer is a beautiful little piece of work, but consider this:
– The prayer was intended for Crom, not Odin.
– The prayer was uttered by the body building governor of California. I’m with you, I wish the movie was real too, but we have to be honest about such things.
– Odin is the God of Poetry not the God of Movie Quotations and Arnold Impersonations.
Am I wrong on this one? You guys tell me.
For those of you unfamiliar with the Conan Prayer (infidels!), there’s a refresher below. No, the guy below is not me, but he has obviously seen the Greatest Movie Ever Made as many times as I have:
Odin tires of blasting humans with lightning and mixes it up with a nice firestorm. This was going to be a quickie, but I took a little extra time to make the background extra-apocalyptic and get the orange wafting smoke of destruction funneling into the clouds just right. Figured we might as well end November with a bang. Let me know what you think of the colors!
The sun has been up one hour and Odin has already blessed three wars, slaughtered four giants, and bolted a dozen humans. But what has Baldur accomplished?
Baldur has brokered a peace agreement between two warring tribes, saved a forest that was about to be cut down for a mead hall, and helped a baby rabbit to escape a hunter’s snare.
Odin, needless to say, is shocked. Now a group of turtles are trapped in a fishing net — Baldur, off to the rescue!
It takes the humans a while, but eventually they do catch on…
Someone up there doesn’t like them very much.
I figured it’s been a while since you guys enjoyed a good lightning comic, a veritable subgenre here at Odin and Friends. I’ve tried to expand the format a bit by including likelike flames, smoke, and other signs of conflagration.
Although Odin pays little attention to the billions of prayers that humans send daily into the clouds, occasionally one will perk his attention…
Dear Lord Jesus Christ, listen to my humble prayer. I need to know whether you exist or not, my Lord. I have a teenage hooker waiting for me right now in Las Vegas. Your possible existence is the only thing keeping me from leaving my fat wife.
Odin responds.
Freyja considers her role as a war goddess a bit of a male fantasy. After all, women don’t make war, men do. Some horny male skald, reciting kennings to a mead hall full of juvenile boys, must have manufactured this identity for her. Sword-wielding, stunning, promiscuous… this blonde bombshell must have been the ultimate beat off fantasy for boys back in the day.
But now, in the modern era, how does Freyja reconcile the role that’s been written for her with her desire to write her own description?
Somehow she manages.
And is there any truth to the rumor that Frejya will be attending college on Midgard in the near future? You’ll have to wait and see…
Besides being a god of war, Odin is a god of words. He accomplished this by stealing the Mead of Poetry from the giant Suttung. Which is the long way of saying that Odin loves a good pun.
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