Monday, July 23, 2007

Blogroll Policy Reform

Wordhoarders,

As the online medievalist community continues to grow, my blogroll is growing longer and longer. Just today I added SCA Life to the roll, as well as to my Google Reader subscriptions. Two days ago I ran into a former student of mine who runs the website Alabama Democrat, which was on my blogroll for a long time, then was removed when it went defunct, and was just resurrected about a week ago.

All this has me thinking about updating my old unofficial blogroll policy. It can be boiled down to meeting any of these conditions:
  • If I already know the blogger personally (and it isn't a diary blog).
  • If the blog links to my blog.
  • If the blogger regularly posts on medieval matters.
  • If the blogger regularly posts on literary matters.
  • If the blogger regularly posts on academic matters.
  • If the blog updates regularly (at least once per month)
When I first started using this policy, my blogroll's secondary purpose was to act as my own personal "favorites" page. Nowadays, I rarely enter through my own blogroll; instead, I subscribe through Google Reader. In other words, my blogroll is now purely a service to my readers, a kind of suggestion of other sites you might like.

Over the last couple of years, the Unlocked Wordhoard has evolved from a general "let's talk about smart things" blog to a central clearinghouse for all things medievalist. Indeed, some months ago I silently made a policy to blog only on medieval topics,* and the result was that in a few months time my traffic on the site leaped up. This increase in traffic** suggests to me that there was a real need out there for what the Wordhoard has become.

Longtime Wordhoarders might have noticed a few other changes over the last year. I removed the section entitled "Famed Words from the Hoard" (basically a "Greatest Hits" roll) because little of that content was medieval. I've become as conscientious as possible about announcing new medieval bloggers when I find them, in order to support our community. The biggest thing that has not been transformed is my blogroll. Therefore, I am considering making changing my blogroll policy to the following:

Sites included on the blogroll must meet ALL of the following conditions:
  • A site must contain occasional-to-frequent medieval content.
  • A site must be updated regularly.
  • A site must not have been defunct for more than a few months.

Obviously, much of this is up to my own interpretation. What is "occasional-to-frequent?" My first impulse for "updated regularly" would be to say at least once per month, but it would depend. Also, "defunct" bears some interpretation, as a lot of my fellow bloggers are academics who blog infrequently over the summer. And, of course, there's the unofficial set of caveats -- for example, any site dedicated to medieval-themed pornography would not likely get a link.

Since the blogroll has long since become a public service, though, I don't want to change policy without hearing from the Wordhoarders. What do YOU think? Is this too restrictive? Is it a long-overdue change? While I'd prefer comments below, I also invite private e-mails to me on this matter if you have something to say that wouldn't be appropriate for public consumption. Please let me know what YOU think.



*Yes, I violate my own policy from time to time. Heck, if you can't break your own rules, whose CAN you break?
**By the way, for new bloggers out there, don't sweat the traffic issue. Too many bloggers see this as a contest. My original goal for the Wordhoard was to have 50 viewers per month. Now, while I have far exceeded that, I don't think 50 viewers per month is anything to be ashamed of. Don't think you have to blog on the latest celebrity gossip or political scandal just to get readers. Instead, focus on writing good things for the readers you DO have, and sending them to links you think will interest them. End of sermon.

Saturday, July 21, 2007

"Beowulf: Dragon Slayer" No. 2



Synopsis: After having been magically spiriting into a swamp by Unferth, Beowulf and his three companions (Nan-zee, Wiglaf, and Hondscio) are attacked by Swamp Men as they sink deeper into the quicksand. On Nan-zee's advice, they allow themselves to be pulled under. Meanwhile, Grendel and his mother talk about their origins, as descendants of Cain and "Grebnel." Though mental telepathy, Satan orders Grendel to kill any he will at the Castle Hrothgar except for the King, Queen, and Shaper. When we return to Beowulf and companions, we learn the the quicksand was a gateway to the underworld, so while they are safe from the Swamp Men, they are now in Hell. They are immediately set upon by "Medulus," Satan's three-headed watchdog, which Beowulf kills with his minotaur helmet. After sleeping (during which time Nan-zee teaches Beowulf "the art of softness without weakness"), they are attacked by various demons, until they come into the presence of Satan himself, who tells them that he has instigated all this trouble out of boredom, as a game. Beowulf kicks Satan in the ear, and Satan magically spirits them out of the underworld. Meanwhile, Grendel attacks Heorot mead hall at the Castle Hrothgar. Beowulf and friends rush up to find him, but just as Grendel prepares to ambush them, Satan orders him to return to the swamp. In the castle, Beowulf meets Hrothgar, Wealtheow, and Unferth. Unferth begins plotting more ways to kill Beowulf.


This issue is a lot sillier than the first one. For example, magic incantations are simply words spoken backwards, so in the first issue when Unferth magically sends Beowulf and company into the swamp, he says "Artsuh Taraz Hcarps Osla," "Also Sprach Zarathustra" backwards. Fair enough, I suppose ... but in the section issue, the Slave-Maiden of Satan issues forth her final magical curse, "Enoyna! Sinnet!" Yes, that's right, she curses them with the phrase "Tennis, anyone?" backwards. Oh, woe unto any who find themselves invited to a tennis match -- in HELL!


Then there are things that just don't seem to make any darn sense. For example, Beowulf fights the three-headed watchdog with his helmet after complaining that he doesn't have any way to sever the dog's heads. Apparently, his sword has gone missing, and it doesn't appear in any of the panels. Then, he suddenly has the sword again for the rest of the story. Also, there is the idea that they are saved from the Swamp Men by being sucked into Hell. Um, isn't Hell by definition worse than any swamp? At least in the swamp there were a finite number of Swamp Men, as opposed to an infinite number of troll-demons in Hell.


But the silliest moment of all is when Beowulf gets angry that Satan has described them as "toys," so he kicks him in the ear. Kind of makes the Harrowing of Hell seem a lot less difficult when you can wander into Hell and kick Satan in the ear. Please note, too, from the panel, that Satan is a whiner.

Also, disappointingly, the writers seem to have given up on alliteration for the Shaper, and instead have him speaking in rhyme:
They ride the tide of heroes' seas to free a shore of the oppressed!
Those cast aside unchain their pride and put them through death's
test!
A spell is weaved, the die is cast, the battlers breathe their last!
A costly cost if all are lost, a blot on Daneland's past!
The previous alliterative poem was nothing great, but the meter here is terrible, and it gives us the wonderfully craptastic phrase, "costly cost." Yeesh! Let's hope they return to alliteration; they were better at it.
You can find the previous post in this series here.

Sea Stallion Update

News for Medievalists has an update on the Sea Stallion, a Viking longship replica journeying from Roskilde to Dublin, which apparently needs a tow at sea to get it to Orkney on time.

You can follow the Sea Stallion's progress on this interactive map.

"The Kingdom": Fantasy or Historical Fiction?

CBS won a bidding war for a TV series called "The Kingdom," still very early in development. In reading through various articles, it appears that it is still little more than a concept. In that oh-so-Hollywood way, it is being described in terms of other shows, such as a "medieval 'Entourage'" and "a sort of 'Princess Bride' meets 'Entourage.'" Jeff over at Quid Plura? is less than enthusiastic about the "Entourage" comparison, and Matthew over at Modern Medieval isn't getting his hopes up, but as I've never seen "Entourage," I can blithely go about my merry way. Two names have been connected with the project so far: Chad Hodge and Barry Sonnenfeld. I've never seen anything Hodge has been connected with, and Sonnenfeld's is a mixed bag, so I'm willing to hold out a little hope.

One interesting thing about the descriptions is that it is variously described as a "a Middle Ages drama set in Europe's world of castles, kings and typhoid fever" and a "fantasy drama." Now, the new king is named "King Lucas" -- and while I'm not a historian, I sure can't remember any "King Lucas" references in the literature. It seems, then, that the story will not be fiction based on historical events, but that the history itself will be fictionalized -- fine by me. When they describe it as "set in Europe" and the "Middle Ages," though, it implies that the setting will be historical even if the characters are not. When, on the other hand, they describe it as a "fantasy drama," and compare it to "The Princess Bride," it suggests that the setting itself will be fictionalized.

So, will the setting have magic and giants and dragons, or will it have Cistercians and trade guilds and trebuchets? From how early this is in the development phase, I'm not sure even the creators know yet.

Friday, July 20, 2007

Medieval Animatic

Here's a very short animated film on the dangers of infidelity. Or perhaps regicide. Or perhaps gluttony. Hat tip: Stan Cynedom (sorry, I can't get the accent marks in there)

Viking (non-word) Hoard

I really don't have anything to say about the find of the Harrogate Viking treasure hoard except to say this: Hey, look, they're displaying a Viking treasure hoard!

People who DO have something to say:

UPDATE: News for Medievalists has the text of three articles on the hoard.

Wednesday, July 18, 2007

Alfred's Meadhall and Wild West Show

I promised a couple of more posts about this article over at Modern Medieval, and this is the second. A few years before it closed, my wife and I stumbled upon the National United States Marshals Museum in Laramie, Wyoming.* We had no idea it was there, and noticed a sign as we were looking for somewhere to get gas and change diapers (my daughter was still quite young). It was a real jewel, hidden out there; we ended up spending the whole day. What really impressed me was the sheer numbers of locals who showed up to work at the thing on a volunteer basis. There were so many passionate volunteers that I assumed we had stumbled onto it during some sort of special event or festival, but when I asked around I learned that it was just a normal day.





Having had that experience, I completely understand why the fellow in this article finds Laramie to be a good site to build a meadhall. Even if the locals don't quite understand the whole meadhall thing, they at least get the basic impulse. For those of you who don't have the patience to read the article, a fellow by the name of Cyning Meadowcroft is building a two-story Anglo-Saxon meadhall in Laramie County, Wyoming, in order to honor Alfred the Great. The Billings Gazette includes this picture of the progress on Angelcynn Hall to date:


Next time I'm out that way, I'll have to go by to talk to this fellow a bit. The two big questions on my mind:

  1. How did you convince your ex-wife to move back to America so you could build a meadhall?
  2. Your name is "Cyning Meadowcroft?" Like, really? Did your parents name you that, or did you change your name?**


*According to the Department of Justice, it's moving to Arkansas.
** "Cyning" means "King" in Old English, and the pronounciation guide in the Billings Gazette article makes clear that he pronounces it in the OE way.

Tuesday, July 17, 2007

Mirror in the Smoke

One more thing before bed tonight...

I ran across a blog with occasional medieval content called Mirror in the Smoke, by an undergrad medieval studies major at the University of Sydney. The sun never sets on medievalism, my friends.

The Latest on the Beowulf Movie

LLCoolCarl has an update on the upcoming Beowulf movie, along with his trademark wit. I have to confess, I can't share in the messianic confidence Carl and many others place in Neil Gaiman. The only film I've seen with which he's been associated was the bland and overhyped Princess Mononoke. Comic books and novels aren't movies, so I see no reason to get all excited.

So, please, Wordhoarders, desist from telling me that the new movie won't suck because Neil Gaiman is involved. It might not suck, I desperately hope it doesn't suck, but that raspy sound you hear is me not holding my breath.

Disney Princess Legitimacy

You can tell it is summer and all the major medieval conferences are now over, because we seem to have entered the silly season of medievalism. Carolingian over at Medievalisms has a post about Disney princesses, in which she evaluates the relative claims of legitimacy of six princesses: Belle, Jasmine, Cinderella, Ariel, Aurora (Sleeping Beauty), and Snow White. According to her analysis, the strongest claim of legitimacy can be made by Aurora, "as she is royal by birth, by clear lawful marriage, and by the hinted production of a legitimate heir."

One thing I was confused about, though ... in her analysis, Snow White is in the list of "relatively economically disadvantaged women." Now, I haven't seen the movie for a looooong time, but in the Disney version, wasn't she the daughter of the king, with the villain playing dual roles of "evil stepmother" and "usurping regent?" Or have I conflated Sleeping Beauty and Snow White in my memory?

Idyllic Peasants Dancing 'round the Maypole (and probably playing hackysack, too)

Matthew Gabriele over at Modern Medieval had an interesting post yesterday that will probably garner THREE different posts in response, with this being the first. He unearthed an article about a fellow developing Oberkleinberg, "an environmentally, economically and socially sustainable community [...] looking like a medieval village but powered by cutting edge 'green' technology." In other words, he's trying to recreate the image of the Shire that drew so many hippies to The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings.

Gabriele laments the ways in which the medieval is characatured, both as violent and dirty ("There's some lovely filth over here, Dennis"), and as happy and fae. He's right, I think, to smash his head against his keyboard at the ridiculousness of it. Real people lived in the Middle Ages -- real people who lived lives very similar to our own. They were born, faced sibling rivalry, played sticks and dolls, hit puberty, fell in love, some days liked their work, some days hated their work, married, fought with their spouse, loved their spouse, had a brood of children, felt annoyance/pride in their children, began to feel the aches of old age setting in, married those children off, enjoyed their grandchildren, and died. Unlike Oberkleinberg, most of them didn't live in a community "with a constantly rotating population and built on top of a huge underground parking garage" -- though perhaps revolutionary archeological findings will prove me wrong on that point.

Still, let's not lose perspective. The medieval has "always already" been constucted in ahistorical terms. Even in the Middle Ages, the medieval wasn't particularly historically accurate. When I look at Geoffrey of Monmouth's History of the Kings of Britain, I see a text as much invested in mythology as history. The medieval is always the other, and as such acts either as a Golden Age utopia (like Camelot, the Shire, or Oberkleinberg), or as the demonic parody of the present. We construct visions of the medieval because we want to create a foundation for our visions about our present.

What is Oberkleinberg? It is a $56 million land development ... but the target consumer is the kind of person who has a lot of disposable income who feels guilty about it. Saavy consumers are accustomed to the cloying pandering to this market (think Ameriprise Financial commercials), so Oberkleinberg is knocked out of its contemporary context and made strange so that the consumers can experience this development without guilt. Consumers will be paying a premium to make their own ice cream and cobble their own shoes at their time share. What they are really paying for, though, is not the "medieval" experience -- they're paying for the feeling of political rectitude that they get, the same product being sold in the form of Priuses and carbon offsets. Do I think it is silly that people feel so guilty about spending their own money that they have to pretend to be some kind of time travellers to do it? Sure, I do -- but that doesn't change the fact that it is THEIR money, not mine, and if they want to live in The Village, they are welcome to it.

I guess I'm no more bothered by the happy-frolicking-around-the-maypole construction of the medieval than I am by the evil-inquisitor-torturing-a-poor-healing-woman-during-the-Crusades-while-simultaneously-dying-from-the-Black-Plague construction. And, hey, maybe when I retire I'll want to live in a place like Oberkleinberg ... but I'll wear store-bought shoes and eat store-bought ice cream.

Monday, July 16, 2007

A Corner of Tenth-Century Europe

The blog A Corner of Tenth-Century Europe has apparently been up and running for about seven months, yet somehow I've missed it. Don't miss the page on Crusader motives.

hat tip About: Medieval History (thanks Melissa Snell!)

I see London, I see France, I see medieval underpants!

Lately the medieval blogosphere has seemed like it was run by 10-year-old boys, with lots of references to poop and underwear. I had resisted writing about the underwear issue because I did not go to Leeds and have not read the paper in question, but it has become so ubiquitous that it seems to need a smack.

For those not aware of what I'm talking about, apparently in a paper at the International Medieval Congress in Leeds, a scholar argued that the rise in literacy was helped along by the invention of underwear, since discarded underwear could be made into cheap paper. You can get more details from News for Medievalists, plus commentary from Modern Medieval, and a really thorough round-up of news reports from LLCoolCarl at Got Medieval.

Like I said, I haven't read the paper, and I suspect that in its original form, the author is probably much more careful about making such definite claims before a scholarly audience. So, let me offer the caveat here that I am criticizing the argument as it has been reported, not the scholarly paper.

This seems to me a rather backwards, like claiming that the spread of gas stations caused people to drive more, with the invention of the assembly line being of ancillary importance at best. It strikes me as far more reasonable to suggest that the printing press created a rise in literacy, which created a demand for more books, and that underwear was simply one of many sources of cheap rags for meeting this demand for books.

But enough being reasonable. This is the Unlocked Wordhoard, repository of everything absurd, so I want to suggest that the rise of underpants wearing was driven by a market in used underwear, so that the medieval person could say, "well, I'll invest in this underwear because I know I'll be able to recoup a small part of that investment later when I sell it to be made into books."

Yes, that the new meme! Increased literacy caused people to wear underpants, not visa-versa! And I already have proof: Paris Hilton, known non-underwearer, is also not a very literate person. I, on the other hand, read a great deal, and I wear underpants every day. Indeed, when my children were illiterate, they wore diapers, not underpants, but now that they are literate, they wear underpants.

Still not convinced? You are reading this, right? And you are wearing underpants, right? And you do not read blogs while showering (sans underpants), right? Aaaah, we now see that the argument can be taken even further: If you aren't wearing underwear, it is impossible to read! Oh, sure, you can sound out the directions on a shampoo bottle, but not real literacy. I can't remember the last time I read a novel and had no underwear on.

So, in conclusion: Underwear was invented by medieval readers to allow for the creation of longer works like novels. Support literacy: Wear your underwear!

Semper ubi sub ubi.

Friday, July 13, 2007

"Beowulf: Dragon Slayer" No.1

Synopsis:



The monster Grendel rises from the swamps and attacks Castle Hrothgar, angry about the "sounds of life" coming from the men within. The scop (known also as "The Shaper") appears to Beowulf and through a cryptic prophecy tells him of the troubles at Castle Hrothgar. This same scop appears in Hrothgar's court and tells them of Beowulf's approach, just before Grendel's attack. Meanwhile, on the sea voyage to the Castle Hrothgar, Beowulf and his men encounter a beautiful siren luring them into the Underworld. Beowulf defeats the demons controlling the siren, and we learn that she is Nan-zee, a Swedish Scylfing warrior who is nearly Beowulf's match in battle. As Beowulf and his companions (including Nan-zee) approach the Castle Hrothgar, Unferth fears humiliation, and so he casts a spell that casts them into a swamp, where they are attacked by "Swamp Men -- Disciples of Satan!"

In this first comic, it appears that the writers are going to try to include some thematic elements from the Beowulf poem. "Wyrd" is referred to as "the God of Fate," Beowulf says that he will fight for "'lof,' or fame as some call it," and the scop appears to have some central role, though he becomes "The Shaper," rather than God. All that gets abandoned really quickly.

Beowulf himself appears as a sort of general barbarian figure, when we first see him, he is killing, and violence isn't just his main approach to any situation -- it's his ONLY approach. Consider the rather S&M way in which he woos the lovely Nan-zee:



Not exactly the method I'd use, but it appears to work for him. Hey, are you a 12-year-old boy confused about girls? Here's some advice from DC comics: When you meet a girl you like, make fun of her and her nationality, then punch her into the mud.* Chicks dig that.

The idea of a siren is our first hint that this whole series is going to be a mash-up, mostly with classical mythology. As the series progresses, Beowulf encounters a whole bunch of non-Beowulfian creatures and situations. Nan-zee herself is a mash-up, since she is an Amazon-type siren/warrior (classical Mediterranean) rescued by a Geatish warrior (medieval Germanic) from her enthrallment by demons of Satan (Judeo-Christian).

The character of Unferth doesn't make any sense. First of all, his garb is quite strange compared to that of others, making him look like he's dresses as a lizard at a costume party (just in case you missed it, this is called "Beowulf: Dragon Slayer," hint hint). On the one hand, he's supposed to be a some kind of tough guy, but on the other we are told he is "arthritic." His role appears to be the all-purpose bad guy in Hrothgar's court.

Interestingly, this first book seems to have literary pretensions. Though the notes at the end contrast it with "Classics Illustrated" comics, the writers do refer to it as "educational" and "an Epic in Comic-Book form." Also, the scop at one point suddenly launches into a speech that uses alliteration, kennings and oral formulae:

The world-candle burns as the life-sphere turns; To Beowulf, boon of the Geats!
He swings his sword -- his iron-killer lord! His might explodes across this
blue-orb Earth, as rosy-fingered dawn brings peace to the land of his birth!

OK, Caedmon meets Homer it ain't, but you can see what they are trying to do. I wonder how many kids tried writing book reports based on the comic?


*UPDATE: After posting this, I realized that the image was not clear enough to read the page. Here are the six panels in the image:

  1. Nan-zee stabs a bat-demon that was attacking Beowulf.
  2. Beowulf: "You saved my life! Why? Who are you? I thought--" Nan-zee: "You thought like the bull-headed male you are! My name is Nan-zee! I'm a Scylfing warrior who--"
  3. Beowulf: "You?!? A warrior? A woman a warrior? HA-HA-HA-HA-HA! And a Swede no less! HA-HA-HA-HA!"
  4. Nan-zee lays out Beowulf with a hard right to the chin. BOFF
  5. Nan-zee (as Beowulf hits the mud): "As I was saying -- I was caught in Satan's whirlpool when he destroyed my ship! Coming ashore here, I became possessed by his spirits and forced to guard this entrance into the underworld!
  6. Nan-zee: "Finally when --OH!" as Beowulf knocks her into the mud too, and says "Wench!"

Weekend Beowulf Blogging

I've been dormant on the blogosphere for more than a week now, for several reasons, the main ones being that I had a couple of tight deadlines dropped on me, I'm renovating my house, AND an old friend sent me a big stack of literature-inspired comic books, including DC's "Beowulf: Dragon Slayer" from the mid 70s, which I believe is complete in its six book run.

I've been reading these comics and laughing (I don't think I'm supposed to laugh, but I it's pretty silly), so I've decided to share the joy. For the next six weekends, I'll share one comic book with you.

Here's Joshua Carlson's assessment of the series.

Thursday, July 05, 2007

Tuesday, July 03, 2007

Carmen Butcher & Grendel

One of the neat things about the Chronicle article is that medievalists I didn't know have been writing me or linking to me all day. I do my best to keep my blogroll updated, but new blogs pop up all the time, old ones fade, and blogs drift into and out of focus on the medieval. If you've got a medieval or website, please don't hesitate to send me a link.

A gem that I'd somehow missed is Carmen Acevedo Butcher's website and blog. Last time I was at Kalamazoo, the Digital Medievalist and I griped to one another that no medievalists were video podcasting. Apparently, we were wrong! Dr. Butcher has four video posts: three about Hildegard of Bingen, and one about Grendel. Here's the one on Grendel:

Monday, July 02, 2007

Sir Nokes, Knight of the Faculty Lounge

John Gravois at The Chronicle of Higher Education has a print article about popular medievalism among academics, paired with an audio report about just how darn fun the International Medieval Congress at Kalamazoo is. During my telephone interview with Gravois, I sensed that his visit to K'zoo really impressed on him just how lively the academic medieval world is. The word he used to describe medieval studies was "vitality" -- as good a word as any.

Gravois opens "Knights of the Faculty Lounge: From dragons to scholars, one man's journey through medieval studies" with this:

I had a fat chance of finding a Dungeons & Dragons game in Kalamazoo, they told me. It was a harebrained quest. But it was a quest, at least, and that seemed appropriate.

OK, I admit it. I was among the skeptics. I knew that a lot of medievalists had come to the field through RPGs, but I thought it would be their secret shame, one that would remain in the closet during the Congress.

I really should have known better. Just look at his brief (non-comprehensive) list of popular medievalist subcultures:

  • Lord of the Rings fans
  • The Society for Creative Anachronism
  • Renaissance Faires
  • World of Warcraft
  • Everquest
I've participated in all of the above with the exception of SCA -- and I'm attending my first SCA meeting tomorrow night. I should have known that I could be out-geeked by other medievalists.

In the two articles (though there is some overlap, the audio piece is an article in its own right, not just a reading of the print piece), I was struck by how much agreement there is among the scholars he spoke with. Dan Kline, Jeff Sypeck, JJ Cohen, Eileen Joy and I might often be in disagreement about a lot of things (often theoretical), but I found myself in total agreement with what they said here about popular medievalism, love of medievalism, and academic anxieties about that love.

I'm starting to think that the most juvenile part of our love is our denial of it. I'm not a grad student any more -- I can read dead languages, properly handle and transcribe medieval manuscripts, and measure my library by the pound rather than by numbers of books. Who are trying to impress here, anyway?

So, here's my unsurprising confession: I love this stuff. I love the high culture and the low. I love tweed-and-bowtie adorned lectures, and I love playing medievalist games. I love reading academic critiques of medieval lit, and I love reading Terry Pratchett. I love the medieval geek culture of academic conference, and I love the very different species of geek at fantasy conventions. And if you don't like it, you can eat the most famous artifact at the York Archaeological Resource Centre and die.

One clarification: At one point in the article, I refer to "the pseudo-medieval world." The quote is accurate, but I was using someone else's nomenclature. I prefer "popular medievalism" to such terms as "recreational medievalism," "quasi-medievalism," "pseudo-medievalism," and "neo-medievalism" -- but that's just a preference, not a point of angry contention. I do sometimes use the term "recreational medievalism" to refer to a sub-category of popular medievalism, i.e. anything that is for fun but cannot be considered art (such as books, film, etc), e.g. Renaissance Faires, SCA, etc.

UPDATE, JULY 3
Arts & Letters Daily (which I read every single day -- as you should) included the "Knights of the Faculty Lounge" article in their "Articles of Note" section for today. Also, Kate Laity of Wombat's World found a YouTube video from the K'zoo dance.

Sunday, July 01, 2007

Speaking of Vikings ...

... they have apparently decided to give up on the Incas and go raiding on the Irish again. Some folks have build the Sea Stallion, a replica of a Viking longship, and they plan to launch it later today on a 1000 nautical mile trip from Roskilde to Dublin. The website looks pretty basic at first, but it has some neat stuff, such as the ability to follow the progress of the Sea Stallion on a map. You can also watch a video with English narration, but it's a little slow-loading. And, as if it weren't super-cool-awesome enough to be sailing around in a Viking longship, this woman will be going with them. Lumberjacks, blacksmiths, tar-makers, and one really cute biologist ... if a person could literally die from envy, I'd be in serious danger.

On a personal tangent, when I was in high school my great aunt gave me a book called The Sinbad Voyage, about a fellow who built a replica of the type of ship contemporary with the Sinbad myth, and sailed it around the various places found in the mythology. I let that book gather dust for a year or two, because it didn't seem too interesting when the first chapter was about fundraising and such. When I picked it up out of boredom later, though, I found it fascinating -- very cool, very educated, and very macho. I remember seeing the picture of these Sinbad-geeks passing around AK-47s for target practice in case they got attacked by (real) pirates, and I thought that was absolutely the coolest thing ever. Heck, I still think it's absolutely the coolest thing ever.

The only question remaining regarding the Viking voyage is this: Will the value of the Lloyd's Bank turd be diminished by the collective dookies of the Sea Stallion's crew?

h/t Muhlberger's Early History

Saturday, June 30, 2007

Herring Wrapped in a Corn Tortilla

There has been an interesting discussion going on over at Treading Water about a recent find in Norway suggesting some sort of Incan/Viking connection about a thousand years ago.

Color me skeptical. I'm usually riding on the, "hey, ancient and medieval peoples were better travelled than we give them credit for" bandwagon, but this seems to me far more likely a chance genetic abnormality in a medieval Norwegian.