Ze Spirit of Nurvai

Well, once again I'm back here. And if we assume that my words don't have a chance to mean anything unless you read them, that means that you've come again.

WELL, I TELL YE THERE'LL BE NO BUTTER IN- Oh. Okay. I guess that was a bit of an overreaction.

Of course, since this is early in the month and I'm therefore out of practice, tonight was once again a night of writer's block. Do I write about the couple yelling on the street about how she never says she loves him or her parents and that's why he won't apologize? Of course not- that would just be awkward. What about how I voted today and felt cheap because I voted for one guy because his name sounded like a pizza place that I went to once? Well, that would just be trigger warning central and cause all sort of chagrin and bashfulness.

"BECAUSE THERE WILL BE NO CHAGRIN AND BASHFULNESS ON THE NIGHT. AND THAT GOES FOR EVERYBODY-THERE WILL BE NO CHAGRIN OR BASHFULNESS ON THE NIGHT." Sir Ian, what are you doing here? You're wonderful, but you're stealing my show.

I could talk about trivia, but I believe that I've already promised to never do that except for the times in which I already have. There's still the list of worst possible means of delivering a break up message, but I just finished a two-parter, and I wasn't pleased with how it went. As such, I have once again consulted the sage and wonderful Kookaburra (name changed to protect the not entirely innocent, but who really is innocent these days, really?)...

Potatoes said it first, man.

... No, I'm not above shameless self-promotion like that), but back to the point I was getting to before the ellipsis, I have consulted the brave and inimitable Kookaburra, and it has been declared that I shall write about a topic I have not undertaken before this very night. I know some of you are a bit surprised. You object, saying, "But you've talked about everything! Nazi zombies, beards, crazy landladies, THE LADIES, potatoes, everything!" Ah, but it was made clear to me tonight that there remains at least one topic into which I have not delved, nor have I devoted to it my ample (and supple) assets.

That topic, of course, is the Vikings.

Images will be courtesy of this tall glass of water. If you haven't read her stuff, it's worth checking out of the library or possibly using as a gag gift for an open-minded compatriot.

Okay, fine, that last bit was a lie. I devoted many assets to the Vikings in the 6th grade for Ms. Berry's social studies class, and it resulted in my obligatory middle school B for the year. I couldn't find the images I wanted through the school's parental blocks (which was silly, because most of those sites were fine, but nooooooo, they hadn't been properly vetted by whoever the fuck does that for public school systems).

If only I had titled my presentation "The Very Virile Viking." Good enough for USA Today's Bestseller list? Good enough for 6th grade social studies. Not that I'm bitter or anything.

And, yeah, we've got Thor (and his sequel, now with less Branagh), but where is the Viking, really? I mean, the last non-comic book movie I can recall about Vikings was The 13th Warrior, which I never even saw, so I can't even confirm that it HAD Vikings. (However, it DID have Antonio Banderas, who is almost an adequate substitute, at least for camp value.) I don't really get the Scandinavian Sanction going on in Hollywood right now (new ideas for the name welcome as long as they are placed under the sole purview of Yours Truly, Copyright Regaling the Asylum 2013, All Rights Restricted To This Blog Unless Substantial Sums Surrendered Subsequent to Said Stealing, Because Like I Said, Alliteration Is Awesome (but assonance is less so)).

Let's talk about it, shall we? Adorable. As if you had any say in the matter.

1. Star power.

Well, there are admittedly Viking CHARACTERS out there. Thank goodness, because if they weren't around, I don't know how we'd manage to fight off the Frost Giants and protect the Rainbow Bridge. I'm rubbish at wielding a seax effectively.

As opposed to the Very Virile Viking, now in orange.

There's obviously Chris Hemsworth (of so much Thor fame), but there's also Alexander Skarsgard (because even with an International keyboard setup, I can't make that friggin' circle over the a. It would make talking about Angstroms so much simpler, since, you know, I do that so often, what with being a scientist and just generally getting to throw around circles over a's like that), who looks like the first Very Virile Viking, but with doe-ier eyes and probably more personality. While we've got Alexander, we might as well snag Stellan, who might not win any beauty contests but could portray some variety of Viking warrior king (because they had kings, right? Of course they did. Who did that not-quite-failing report in 6th grade, after all!) with an intensity to match... um... a troll? A troll hunter? Sure. Yes. That sounds right. There weren't Grendel hunters since the great post-Heorot hunt of... um... Helm's Deep? So it'd have to be trolls. And everybody knows that there are trolls up there- Disney World said so! Not just Disney World- Epcot, AKA educational Disney World with beer.

If you can't trust God's golf ball, who can you trust?

So, yes. There's star power. BUT IS IT ENOUGH?

No. It's never enough. These are fucking Vikings. What sort of question is that? Go into a corner and think about what you've just said for a little bit.

2. Writing

Okay. You've got me. You need a story. You need dialog. You need some sort of believable character arc that these folks can go through and grow as people.

Like this guy who can. Um. Take off those chains?

 Okay, aside time. I actually read that book years ago, because wouldn't you? Okay, maybe you wouldn't. However, apparently books have trailers now, and I've hopefully embedded the trailer for VIKING UNCHAINED BY SANDRA HILL IN THIS VERY ENTRY. Exciting, I know. Take a gander.

WHY WOULD YOU NOT READ THIS? I mean, the trailer is a train wreck of terrible awesome. The concept is something I could only DREAM of coming up with on a night where I'm in rare form. AND SHE HAS A FRIGGIN' SERIES AROUND SIMILAR CONCEPTS.

Maybe this aside has shown you something. Namely, Viking movies don't need real plot. There are Vikings. They go fuck shit up. Maybe they become Navy SEALS. I'd watch that. Hell, I already watched Navy SEALS, and that was pretty terrible. Throw Vikings into it? I'd watch it again in a heartbeat.

3. Music. Duh.

Let me tell you about Othello. Okay, fine, let's narrow that down. Let me tell you about a particular film version of Othello. Okay, fine, that's too esoteric and boring. My point is that it sucked.

Oh, you wanted more? Okay, okay, okay. There were some pretty solid actors (Anthony Hopkins, Bob Hoskins, and probably somebody else, but who cares because we've got Othello and Iago taken care of) and a legit script (some guy named Shakespeare who I guess has done some okay stuff before sorta, but he's no Sandra Hill).

But who is, really?

It was terrible. Just terrible. A big part of that was that a.) the mic setup was abysmal, so you couldn't hear them half the time, and b.) there was no music. Music is important, guys.

How is he even playing the guitar with that cannon hand?

But for a Viking movie? Man, you need some pretty amazing music, don't you?

That's why we have Viking metal. Okay, again, probably not the right term, but I'm told by sources that are in fact people (or so their words claim) that there are entire groups of people devoted to playing songs about Vikings. Since I can't name a single one, they must not be that popular, which means that the right to their music are probably super cheap. This, in turn, leaves more money for badass Viking fights between Alexander Skarsgard and Chris Hemsworth over the troll's beautiful daughter, played of course by Christina Hendricks.

Because, see, she's wearing a hat like one that was in a book about a girl outsmarting a troll. Very Viking.

See, afterwards, though, they all learn a valuable lesson about how Mrs. Hendricks is, like, her own person and isn't just a prize to be won. Then there's a high five as they all go to pillage the New World and leave a colony that will die out until some Italian fuck gets sent by the Spanish to discover Syphilis. While guitars shred in the background to guttural stylings of bearded men, of course (and, hey, they can even be in the movie). We could even call it The Norse King's Daughte-

DAMN YOU, SANDRA HILL!