No, seriously. Alright, I slept pretty late on Saturday, then made it to a cafe for “breakfast” around 2pm. After that, some friends and I took a stroll through the park beside which the cafe resides, and we encountered… just look at the pictures.

Charge!

It was the greatest day.

I talked to the leader of the ragtag lot and he directed me to their ragtag website. Turns out it’s some summer camp for kids who are smart bargainers: “OK Mom, I’ll go get some fresh air, but on one condition!”

It looked like an absolutely awesome time, and the leader was kind enough to 1) welcome our profuse picture taking and 2) invite us to play along. We accepted. Duh.

Now, I know it looks like I spent the afternoon kicking the crap out of little kids and girls, but this was a much more complex scenario than that. There were like two other dudes my age, one of whom wouldn’t stop reading a Terry Pratchett book, even while swordfighting. I liked him.

The best part is that my friends and I lingered in the park long after they’d all gone home. It looked like someone had left their gear (one blood-tipped foam spear and one shield) there, so I scooped it up and took it home. So it wouldn’t get stolen.

Now I guess I’ll have to go back to Clark Park next Saturday from 1-4pm in order to return it. Damn.

Special thanks to Leigh for letting me use her exquisite pictures.

By the way, before anyone pipes up that this doesn’t look like real LARPing, go to hell. You’re weird for knowing that.

Last night was Paganfest, easily the best metal festival I’ve ever attended (which, to be honest, isn’t saying very much, as the U.S. isn’t exactly big on festivals). It was a good time. As the venue website declares:

HEIDENFEST

* Nur fürs Paganfest: Met- Ausschank (Trinkhörner sind erlaubt)

[translation]

PAGANFEST

* Only for Paganfest: Mead bar (drinking horns allowed)

That’s got to be the greatest exception ever. Drinking horns were indeed allowed, and how. I was only of the only people there without one, and also without full pelt garb.

Step one: get into a sold-out show

I arrived late to the show, with my Finnish comrade, due to a minor mishap. Having heard from everyone multiple times that there was no way in hell we were getting in without tickets, as the festival had been sold out for weeks, we decided to give it a go anyway. First we tried the back entrance, and acted ignorant when asked for tickets. “Well, we thought the line out front was for people with them, so we figured we’d come back here to buy them. No? Go back out front? OK, no problem, man.” The whole time we were scoping out places to hop the fence, but security was quite heavy, especially around the easily hoppable sections of fencing.

Tuomas isn’t very confident with his German—although his English puts my German to shame—so I decided to do the talking with the security guard at the main gate. She said, “No. No way in hell, without a ticket. This has been sold out for weeks. Yes, I know you guys really want to see these bands, but my job is to make sure that no one without a ticket gets in. Sorry.”

Fortunately, I’m majoring in making friends. I talked with her for a little bit, and spun some bullshit like, “I know it’s completely out of the question for us to get in, but is there anyway we can at least just buy a T-shirt for the festival? We love these bands so much and we just want to be able to have something from the show, even if we don’t get to see them.” That definitely struck a chord of empathy with the guard, and I let it resonate for a bit before trying anything else. She said that maybe if we came back in an hour, there would be merch outside that we could pick up, possibly even at a discount. She recommended another club, with a beer garden, where we could go to kill time.

I of course said this was a wonderful idea, and thanked her profusely. Then Tuomas and I fell back a little bit and discussed our options. I translated my conversation with the guard (into English, not Finnish!) and also explained that I thought there was hope. We were already a little buzzed from the beers we’d had at my place before heading out, so we figured what the hell, let’s hang out and see what happens. Several minutes later, the same security guard comes up to me and says in a low voice, “Leave now. Come back in 10 minutes. Perhaps my colleague can help you.”

We booked it. I set an alarm on my phone for 8 minutes so that we’d be back in just the right amount of time, and Tuomas and I started talking about the bands playing. We were laughing that I hadn’t understood who was playing, because I’d always pronounced the bandname Týr as teer instead of the proper toorr. While joking around and taking stupid pictures of each other, the security guard came up to me again and said, “There, that’s my coworker. Talk to him. He’s on the phone now but when he’s off he’ll help you.”

We hovered so close to the guy we were practically hugging him. As soon as he snapped his cell phone shut, he looked us up and down, then gestured for us to follow him—quietly. We get in through the Guest List Only door, and he introduces us to a colleague of his, who wants money. She says, “That’ll be 28.” Not bad at all! I hand her 40. The guy says, “No, that won’t do. It has to be exact.” Well, shit. I didn’t know what to do about that, and I figured I was just about to get ripped off 12 bucks. Funny thing is, I didn’t really have a problem with this. But a suggestion is made that the woman break my bills, giving me a 20, a 10, and then another 10 in coins. Then I paid the 28 exactly. I still fail to see the point of this, but who the hell cares, because it got me in. Tuomas gets the same deal, we tip the nice man 5 bucks, and we’re on our way to forging through the crowd, trying to get near the stage.

Finding a place in the crowd

The people at this show were all-out diehard fans of folk metal, and it showed.

I think my favorite was this dude, whom I headbanged with throughout most of the show, until I was elected to crowdsurf and thrown over the front rail. (That was during Ensiferum, so I’d gotten a lot of pictures by that point, and it was OK by me. Plus, I loved those guys.)

While still standing near the back upon arriving, Tuomas treated me to a few beers as a thank-you for my rapport-building prowess. Again, as we’d arrived late, we’d already missed Equilibrium and Eluvietie (about whom I’ve heard great things), but we were able to catch Týr setting up, and their set in full force.

The bands

Týr

I love these guys. Their Ragnarok album blows me away every time I put it on, and it’s one of those epics discs that you have to listen to in its entirety, the whole way through, every time. The crowd dug them, hard.

Absolutely epic. I’ve also thrown up a video of the last part of Hail To The Hammer, in which the sound quality is even lower than above, but the crowd’s enthusiasm is even greater.

Moonsorrow

I’ve been dying to see these guys live. I haven’t listened to any Moonsorrow for years, and so as soon as they started playing, opening with Raunioilla (which Tuomas kindly informed me means “Upon The Ruins,” a freaking killer songtitle), I was taken back about 4 years, to the time I used to spin that CD every morning, walking to classes.

As is to be expected from these guys, they were only able to play about 3 or 4 songs during their 45-minute set, but that worked beautifully. Each song has such flowing dynamic contrast that they really worked the crowd, shifting from headbanging to clapping to singing and then back again.

Here’s a brief clip from Raunioilla, by far my favorite song of theirs. I say “brief” when it’s actually the first 3 minutes of a 13-minute song, so beware.

[audio:raunioilla-intro.mp3]

For the record, I freaking love bands who give a mic to everyone in the band. (Yes, even the drummer is wearing a headset.)

Korpiklaani

I was so not ready for these guys. I’ve called them “fratboy folk” before, because pretty much every one of their songs is about drinking, rather than fighting, but I’d failed to realize what this was going to mean to a crowd in Munich. Singing about beer is without a doubt the best way to win the hearts of a crowd in this city, and Korpiklaani wielded the crowd like the gods they are.

To get a good idea of their sound, check out this quip from their Wiki page.

The music of Korpiklaani ranges from the violin-and-guitar paean to the Finnish god of fermentation Pellonpekko, to the “typical” trollish metal “Wooden Pints”, to “Crows Bring The Spring”.

Yeah, that’s about right. Dancing galore. Wannabe vikings, arm-in-arm, spinning round and round and shouting at the top of their lungs things like, “Beer, beer! Beer, beer!”

And, of course, they’re not afraid to get down and folky. I wasn’t expecting it, but the bastards went ahead and did a live rendition of Shaman Drum, of which I only caught the end on camera.

It was far more haunting live than it seems here. As I was making the video, I wanted to make sure to cut off the explosion of cheers from the crowd as the song ended, which I thought it would make for better resonance on video, but I was completely wrong. The crowd reaction would only add to the experience. Ah, well.

Ensiferum

I finally, finally got to see Ensiferum live. It’s a damn shame Jari Mäenpää wasn’t with them, but the dude from Norther did a pretty damn good job on vocals. The opened, of course, with Iron, and the crowd went nuts. Unfortunately for Ensiferum, Korpiklaani had absolutely drained the audience with all the dancing, so the first few Ensiferum songs were met with relatively tame enthusiasm. Still, Ensiferum cleaned up.

My sole complaint regarding the new vocalist was that during the solo for Iron, he didn’t play the original. He referenced it in his sweeps, but he brought in too much of his own technique. I’m still torn as to whether this was a shameless appropriation of a classic song by a newcomer who can’t fill Jari’s shoes, or a reverant reticence to mar a beautiful, untouchable thing with his own playing. In my opinion, it’s more appropriate to lay insufficient offerings at the altar of a metal god than to build a new altar, which it seemed to me like he was doing.

This was partly made up for, though, by one of my favorite moments from the whole night, when Ensiferum fulfilled their duty as headliners and played part of a classic metal song. Being from the North, it would have been completely inappropriate to toss yet another tribute onto Dimebag Darrell’s burial mound. I’m glad they didn’t. They went the extra mile and played the main riff from the father of all battle metal songs, The Trooper.

While the band did play a stellar setlist, they left off Treacherous Gods, which thrilled me—because they did it as an encore. I made a video of the whole song, but it’s pretty poor quality, so I won’t embed it. I’ll see how it turns out upon YouTubeification, and might throw up a link to it later after it’s finished processing.

Probably the highlight of their set was the crowd singing along to the bridge of “Lai Lai Hei,” but sadly I don’t have video of it. Take my word for it, though: it was awesome.

The land of hope and glory

I know this was a disastrously protracted post, but I couldn’t help but gush about this show. I encourage you to listen to all the bands’ material at length, as everyone who played (well, I can’t vouch for Equilibrium) offers absolutely stellar folk metal.

Stay folk.

Give me some time to recuperate from all the awesome, and I’ll throw up a lengthy post, replete with fawning and photos.

Until then, fuck kvlt, stay folk.

A age old battle rages amongst the stars. Kainan’s people have been fighting the Moorwen, fierce animal-like creatures for dominance. When his space craft crashes into the fjords of ancient Norway it’s with dismay that Kainan realizes that he wasn’t the only survivor. A second passenger, a Moorwen also emerges from the wreckage and into the time of the Vikings, intent on causing harm to those it perceives have wronged it. As the Moorwen kills everything in its path, Kainan has to try and get the feuding tribes to work together long enough to destroy the beast before it destroys them all.

I pretty much fantasize night and day about harnessing the raw power of the Viking hordes and unleashing it upon my interstellar foes, so I’m definitely gonna see this movie about 14 times in theaters. Then I’ll buy the special edition DVD (and Blu-Ray and HD-DVD) that ships with prop toenails from the pre-production alien mannequin.

There’s also a sweet trailer that’s really dark and doesn’t really show any footage, yet still made me fidget around in my chair and knock stuff off my desk in idioglottic rapture.

I like how the demon/alien is described in hyperbolic terms as the utmost evil because he sorta maybe kinda might hurt the Vikings. Now that’s good writing right there.

I’m going to walk around for months now, gutturally muttering, “…that fell… from the stars.”

Almost all English-language calendars, going by astronomy, state that winter begins on the winter solstice, and ends on the spring equinox. Calculated more by the weather, it begins and ends earlier….

Can’t argue with that, can you? So, winter. It looks good on this city.

Took that on an auxiliary campus for my university, where I have my e-society class. I have to train across down, then walk a couple kilometers from the train station. On the day I took this pic, I blasted lots of Viking metal through my headphones, as I scanned the treelines for armies in lying wait, ready to charge across the snow and do battle before attending the day’s lectures.

That’s a beautiful one I’m sure will wind up in liner notes for an album of mine one day. Yes, I still believe CDs—er, albums—will have liner notes. Geez, getting off track here. Check out this picture of Marienplatz at night, all spruced up for a Christmas market. (I think this was on the walk home from getting my glasses fixed.)

And this last one I took from my balcony, looking toward the campus buildings. It was a beautiful snowstorm.

Now excuse me while I go listen to metal about snow.

Now, no comments about the language skills of engineers. OK? Let’s play fair. Onward.

Jim obviously was trying to avoid having the paper be interpreted as drawing upon or otherwise endorsing “intelligent design.” I told him I thought the edit was ridiculous and he should have left the initial phrasing as it was. This launched a debate about definitions, he opting always for “pattern” and I for “design.”

For example, were I to be going on a stroll (IRL, not along the shoulder of the information superhighway) and pass a rock formation, with all sorts of strange swirls on the surface and between layers of the rocks, I’d probably say to a companion, “Man, check out those crazy designs on that rock over there.” Jim, of course, would say “check out those crazy patterns on the rock.”

Now, in my opinion, a pattern necessitates repetition across multiple instances, meaning that I’d have to see several rock formations before I’d be in a position to identify a pattern. But I understand Jim’s conviction that “design” requires forethought, and therefore nothing natural can be “designed,” given his lack of belief in an omnipotent creating (or designing) entity. Fair enough.

Basically our disagreement boiled down to how much credit we each were willing to bestow about the intelligent design camp. Jim thinks it’s worth fighting against, and actively pre-empting whenever possible. I, on the other hand, prefer the method of acting like it doesn’t exist, because it’s just so damn silly. I look at it like this: I wouldn’t be caught holding a debate on the logical merits of intelligent design, just like I would try very hard not to let anyone see me swatting at faeries as I walk to class every day. Sure, faeries are rad and everything, but, like, they don’t actually exist, and I’m not going to pretend in public that they do.

Jim called me out on grossly misinterpreting the demographics of the great nation of America, and maybe he’s right about that. At least he and I could agree that although the form of something, like a pine tree, with its branches, needles, trunk, and pinecones, might look designed or patterned, there certainly was no entity which said “it must be so” and then it was so. Atheism is in, after all.

While we’re at it, let’s examine some corollaries to this statement.

Well that one certainly holds true in most social circles. But let’s calibrate our testing mechanism, because we need to be sure of the accuracy of the results.

Boom, case closed. Can’t argue with that.

I know the first 30 seconds of the vid are boring, but they’re characterization. Hang in there.

Certainly has me thinking about the Amon Amarth concert my bros’ll be seeing in Philly soon. Oh, and I found a remix of it which I post for my bro Will, because he loves pirates almost as much as he loves Vikings (and is wise enough not to bother with ninjas, who are lame).

And in case it’s not obvious, this is in Germany. It’s Berlin’s Fuckparade, I believe from 2006.

I wish I could like just not own so hard, and let the n00bz beat me, but the Viking code is that “I CANNOT LET UP.” For proof, there’s an Amon Amarth song about it:

From Across The Rainbow Bridge:

Why cannot death just set me free!

Countless armies have I attacked
Not once have I backed down
And though I’ve spilled a lot of blood
I never once received a mortal wound

I’ve raided shores in many lands
I cannot count the men I’ve killed
So many friends died with sword in hand
But the warrior’s death was never granted me

I dress myself in battle clothes
Alone I make the final ride
My sight is blurred, by whipping snow
I seek to end my life

I want to walk across the Rainbow Bridge
And see my fathers in the golden hall
They beckon me to join their feast
In my dreams I hear their call

That’s like exactly how I feel about everything I’ve ever done. Anyway.

About a month ago I picked up C&C3, but that was really just to help my German. I haven’t played it too extensively, but honestly the profuse dialog and radio chatter in the game has definitely helped my language ability. Although I admit that hearing “Einheit verloren” still doesn’t cut me as deeply as “unit lost.”

Given my sociological bent, I really should be scooping up an MMO, especially one that isn’t Second Life, as that seems to be the only thing academics are willing to write about. I recently read link-heavy coverage of new MMO Tabula Rasa on an anthropology-and-gaming blog I read, Terra Nova, but it doesn’t seem like it’s for me. In fact, it’s actually geared for n00bz, and my trusted review site gave it a lukewarm 7.5.

Terra Nova has also been posting a ton about Eve-Online, a game which has always appealed to me, but which I never did pick up. At this point I’d feel too much like a tool hopping into Eve, as the game feels to me very dated. I’ve already felt a little dirty for playing BF2 for so long, and never even getting BF2142. Where the hell have I been?

Speaking of BF2, I just noticed there’s a new version of Project Reality out, which adds some cool stuff like an Apache. And version 0.7 is shaping up really nicely, I read.

Last, for a bit of nostalgia, I’ll slap in a video review of UT2K7, which there’s no reason for me to pick up, either, because I would just drive everyone around in my gigantic schoolbus.

Miss you, J.

He fought Grendel naked. It in all honesty does not get cooler than that, ever. And so what if it’s a little gay to hang with your bros while naked? They are Vikings. Everything they do instantly becomes the paragon of masculinity.

When we left the theater and came outside, around 1:30am, there was snow everywhere, about two inches of it. It was the kind that packed beautifully into snowballs. Since pretty much the whole movie was shot in a snowy landscape (occasionally a scene was inside, meaning snow was briefly not visible), it was a bit much for me to come out and be reminded once again of that Viking lifestyle.

So I stripped naked and began brawling with strangers on their way home from the bar. I picked the ugly ones, so it was just like fighting Grendel.

Snowball fights the whole way home, with choruses of “ICH… BIN… BEOWULF!” ringing through the streets of Munich.

I want a dragon for a pet just so I can raise it to adulthood and then battle it.

I’m very much looking forward to how (or should I say whether?) the cinematography complements the CGI. From the previews I’ve seen, the target audience is definitely gamers, as every shot selected for the trailer had a distinct feeling of being lifted right from a video game cutscene.

Speaking of video games, in searching for fun images to stick in this post, I found an animated GIF of the warrior from Diablo 1. I’m really happy about this.

Well, here’s hoping Neil Gaiman didn’t totally hose this one.

• phone grope
• crazy viking motherfucker
• Odin (“Odin can beat up your god.”)

Apparently I slept through my Operating Systems class. How did I forget I had that today? It’s like my favorite class. Best part is Carl was there without me and had to explain to the prof that I had our lab assignment, all printed out in color and placed in a nice plastic folder, looking positively pimp.

Gotta run to the housing agency, as today is the deadline to provide them with my certification of enrollment. They say they’ll kick anyone out who doesn’t prove they’re currently enrolled. Happens.

It’s snowing and it’s beautiful.

I should take a moment to mention that the tour name is a reference to one of their 1337est songs, off, of course, the Versus The World album:

Amon Amarth – Thousand Years Of Oppression

After a thousand years of oppression, let the berserks rise again
Let the world hear these words once more:
“Save us, oh Lord, from the wrath of the Norsemen!”

It’s actually a pretty deep song, because it’s about the rejection of Christianity and its proselyatization by sword, but it incorporates post-Christianity Norse imagery as the archetype for what is to be guarded. For example, the song opens with a passage about Oden hanging from Yggdrasil the world tree, pierced by his own spear, the sacrifice he underwent in order to save the world by what he learned of the nature of creation and destruction.

Anyway, the tour diary up right now is decently badass for something hosted on MySpace, and I recommend you check it out. If you do, you’ll get to see pictures like this:

I promise you, there are many pictures like that.

Like, there’s no other way to say it. Vikings are so freaking badass it makes me want to gut people with grossly oversized swords. I feel like the kid from Real Ultimate Power, but I’m actually serious. I fucking love Vikings with all of my being, and then even more. (I was gonna say that I love them more than I love breathing, but when you’re a Viking, you can’t always love breathing. So maybe I could have said that I loved them more than I love the prospect of drinking with Oden in Valhalla, but that’d be a lie.)

Seeing Amon Amarth live the other night (pics here) definitely made me consider running away to become a Viking. I would have a plundering ship and name it Flessskinnjoldrmangandrokthurkapjlodrojr. I’d have some Viking jawn pieces I’d roll around with and we’d point at people and call them Normans and then burn down their cities, wherever they may be.

What I don’t understand is why anyone ever opposed the Vikings. If anything that badass attacked me, I would take that as an obvious sign of my having failed at life, and I’d just flex my whole body and scream while waiting to be decapitated.

Now, just showing Amon Amarth lyrics without also showing the swords and tall dudes with long hair and insane drums and furious vocals is a bit half-assed, I realize. But bear with me, and check these out.

From “Cry Of The Black Birds”:

Charge your horses across the fields,
Together we ride into destiny!
Have no fear of death, when it’s your time:
Oden will bring us home when we die!

From “Runes To My Memory”:

When I am dead, lay me in a mound
Raise a stone for all to see: Runes carved to my memory!

From the timeless “Death In Fire”:

The wait is soon at end. Always charge, never bend!
Morning is here, make your stand
Live for honor, glory, DEATH IN FIRE!

Total war is here, face it without fear
Age of sword, age of spear
Fight for honor, glory, DEATH IN FIRE!

See the fire rise, flames are raging high
Soon all will burn and die
Burn for honor, glory, DEATH IN FIRE!

Storm of lethal flames, only death remains
Ragnarok is closing in
Die for honor, glory, DEATH IN FIRE!

The bridge from “The Pursuit Of Vikings” (see video below):

Oden! Guide our ships
Our axes, spears and swords
Guide us through storms that whip
And in brutal war!

From “Down The Slopes Of Death”:

Down the slopes of death he rides
The eight hooves pound like drums
Darkness reigns the crumbling sky:
Invasion has begun

From “Across The Rainbow Bridge”:

I dress myself in battle clothes
Alone I make the final ride
My sight is blurred by whipping snow
I seek to end my life.

I want to walk across the Rainbow Bridge,
And see my fathers in the golden hall!
They beckon me to join their feast
In my dreams I hear their call…

Hell, just read all their lyrics: Versus The World, Fate Of Norns, With Oden On Our Side.

At the show last night, I was fortunate enough to catch the first minute of “Death In Fire” on video. It’s pretty intense, because the crowd erupted in battle moshing when they announced the song, and so it took me a while to extract my camera from the depths of flesh below shoulder height. But that worked out well, because the camera bursts forth from the crowd right as the intro guitar riff comes in, like a a sword ripping out through a Norman’s back.

Check out the Death In Fire video. If this doesn’t make you bang your head, you need to see a doctor.

[qt:/blog/pics/video/aa-dif-intro-small.mp4 320 256]

And not as grand, as this was the closing song, and everyone was exhausted, here’s the bridge from The Pursuit Of Vikings.

[qt:/blog/pics/video/aa-tpov-bridge-small.mp4 320 256]

UNDERSTAND YE YET, OR WHAT?

He plans to get it before the big concert, which is a goal I wholeheartedly support. (Amon Amarth are one of the greatest Viking metal bands in existence.) Please keep in mind that this tatt is in addition to the sweet runes already gracing his forearms:

I choose friends wisely.