Good-bye, all my friends—
It’s been good; it’s been fun,
Ah, but everything ends,
And the end has begun.
It’s the last deadline ever
And not to my liking,
But I know I should never
Cross swords with a Viking
Now Fenrir is pacing
And Odin will die
It’s the end we are facing
And no one knows why
We say now, with sorrow,
Goodbye to the gods…
So, see you tomorrow?
I don’t like the odds.
The Mayans had their chance. Harold Camping had his chance(s). One of these days, somebody has to get it right–yup, it’s the end of the world. Today!
“Ragnarok is the ultimate landmark in Viking mythology, when the gods fall and die, so this really is an event that should not be underestimated,” comments Danielle Daglan director of the JORVIK Viking Festival. “In the last couple of years, we’ve had predictions of the Mayan apocalypse, which passed without incident, and numerous other dates where the end of the world has been pencilled in by seers, fortune tellers and visionaries, but the sound of the horn is possibly the best indicator yet that the Viking version of the end of the world really will happen on 22 February [this] year.”
Looks like a fun evening, full of contests, drinking, and beards. These people do the end of the world right.
One of the more embarrassing attempts at marketing.
But, hey, we’ll find out in exactly a quarter of an hour.
But if it’s just the gods dying, why would I care?
It may not be the best marketing in the world but the only embarrassing thing about it is the number of people who think they were being serious. Repeating this as an end of the world claim along the lines of Camping is like running a story “Mice can talks claim Disney”.
If it means no more “Thor” movies, i’m all for it.
It’s also supposed to involve the whole world burning down.
If I remember Snorri Sturluson correctly, every human dies except for one man and one woman.
I feel like I’m missing out on some amazing party somewhere. Oh well, back to the beer-and-movie planned for this evening.
Dammit, Cuttlefish!!!
*breathes deeply for several long moments*
That first stanza had my heart colliding with my larynx and for an endless time I was speechless and had no blood pressure!
*takes long slow breaths and calms down, thanking the Ice Dogs and checking that my hammer is still hung in its given place*
I thought, forgive me, I thought . . . no, it’s so not so . . . foolish of me but the way things have been going around my parts you really couldn’t blame me . . . I thought you were saying good bye, shutting down, rolling up the carpet, dropping the curtain, taking a powder and packing it in.
I feel so silly now, having realized I had let my imagination run away like that.
*it musta been that bastard Loki up to no good again — not the first time he’s made a fool of me*
Do stay, Dear Cuttle. Tell us all that you’ll stay . . .
I’m so sorry, Crudely Wrott– The worst part is, I knew the first stanza could be interpreted that way, and (just to be mean) was planning on titling the post something like “Goodbye, Everybody!” just to get that reaction.
The honest truth is, though, I *have* considered it on occasion (as recently as the beginning of last month–even talked about it with my pal Kylie, who was very supportive), in part because of anxiety issues. There are times when my writing is most accurately seen as part of a constellation of symptoms rather than as poetry. At the moment, though, it’s fun, and I have no immediate plans to leave.
It is nice to know I’d be missed, though. Thanks.
Aww, Cuttle. By the time I read “Cross swords with a Viking” I knew that the myth was what you were referring to. I recalled that just last week or so the advent of the latest ending was mentioned somewhere else in the convolutions of the InnerTubes. So, really, my post was mostly tongue in cheek.
I’m not surprised, though, that you’ve considered your own blogging demise; I have often reflected on the stamina and intent and intensity that must be driving those who can create, daily, worthy writing. That those daily posts are continuously engaging and provocative is something that amazes me. In your case the added rhythm and rhyme evoke extra admiration and appreciation.
I’m not alone in hoping that you keep on going for some arbitrarily long time. If, upon deep reflection, you find that you cannot or simply don’t want to continue any more, well, five’ll get you ten that you surface again cloaked in new camouflage with ink that still flows with a familiar cadence.
Here’s to your mental (and physical) health, and to whatever you need to maintain it. But if you do go away, I hope a temporary break will be sufficient to recharge you. I recall that happening before, and hope that if it happens again it will go the same way.
If the Cuttlefish hides
Without any ink,
Or electrons besides,
Well here’s what I think.
We’ll know that you’re tired;
It’s not that you hate us.
And hope you’re inspired
To suspend the hiatus.
If they knew anything about norse mythology they’d know that Ragnarok has already happened. Just go read the stories! We’ve been living in a post-Ragnarok world for centuries.