– A pagan religion that some experts say can be interpreted as encouraging violence is gaining popularity among prison inmates, one of whom is scheduled to be executed this week for killing a fellow prisoner at the foot of an altar. īy KRISTEN GELINEAU, Associated Press Writer Sun Jul 23, 2:39 PM ET but after you’ve met Odin and Thor in the stories, who in their right mind would ever want to worship them? And yet. These are great old stories, and the Norse myths like the Greek myths have influenced our culture in many ways. In my opinion, the more you learn about the mythology, the more impossible it is to take it seriously as a religion.

Warning: this story talks about a murder. Very strange, and a little scary, that this religion is catching on in the American prison system. Another example of how mythology is still a good thing to know about in the modern world! I’ve loved the Norse myths for years, but I didn’t realize some people still worship the old Viking gods. Twist ands weave as they dance in the sun.I saw this in the news today. Their eyes shine brightly and their supple bodies October is now, but springtime is foreverĪnd the Disir call us from verdant vistas. Bradbury should know Freya better than that.

Wrinkles, cracked voices, age-dulled eyes? It’s not too cold to take off your clothes under the cover,Įspecially if you’ve someone to snuggle with.Īnd know that summer lies beyond the snow. Remember to feed the animals, the Disir sayĪnd brew the fine beer that will keep you cheery. They hail and halloo, as though they’d never left Mothers, grandmothers, cousins and kin of old The Disir, those ancient women, call to you.

Or the sighs of lovers moving over the grass. You can hear them better this time of year They cackle and call as though the air was warmĪnd flowers bedecked the barrow in the sun. Stones all icy, but the Disir don’t care. Out in the paddock stand the burial mounds, Turn inward, and keep the fire lit all night.

It’s adult time now – indoors, school books open, To run in the sun and play in fields like children The Disir – creaking bones? Dried up skin bags? Maybe he hears the ones behind her, and fears When frost circles the moon like her necklace,Īnd it’s too cold to make love on the stark ground. Or it wouldn’t be his thumbs that prickle Once green, now brown, like Freya’s cloak.Īnd for tossing on the grass for a love-bed.īrown cloaks, like fallen leaves and bare earthĪre for covering and concealing…for October. Shut your eyes and listen through the dark. As McNallen says, this is his tribute to Freya, the Disir, and Ray Bradbury, their “special bard.”

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