Archive for the ‘Vikings’ category


March 13, 2018

I need to do a “computer dump”  and post a lot of blogs and use up a lot of waiting photos.  My monitor is giving every sign of breaking down, and I’m afraid I’ll get caught with no monitor at all in the time between seeing black and getting a new one.   

I was perusing Scandinavian news again, and came across a report that more and more in Sweden (and elsewhere, I know for sure)  are reconstructing the ancient religions and reviving knowledge of the Old Gods.

If you ndon't believe

Yeah!    Looks like Viking warriors to me!    Before Christianity got to Scandinavia.     Only these are modern men worshiping that . . .  thing and the gods represented by that . . .  thing.     Presumably educated modern men.

(Well, no –  modern “education” is not education.  Modern “education” teaches you just enough to become strongly opinionated about various issues.    But that’s for anothoer post when I talk about bulldozers . . . .)   

But we’d expect men in this modern world to be educated.   And women:

if you don't

A Daughter of Freya.      (Of the Odin-Thor family of gods.)

There are some women in Scandinavia who take the Old Gods just as seriously as American women like to take their reconstructed and wholly imaginary version of the Druids and the Celtic gods.  Goddesses, actually.

Years ago  (years and years ago – before the Leftists began to dominate the universities and “reconstructed a wholly imaginary version of history” —  I remember a history professor who demonstrated – from historical records – that wherever there was a matriarchal society with goddesses,  there was extreme human cruelty and oppression, death and the early collapse of that society.

When goddesses are in charge,  it’s not all sweetness, with young maidens running around with . . .

Music Notes Line

      ” . . . .  with flowers in their hair . . .”   

GK Chesterton is one of the greatest observers of modern Western culture, and he writes with humor and wit.       One of his observations is that “When a man stops believing in God, he does not believe in Nothing,  he will believe in Anything.”    (see the men – and women – in the photo up there.)

Now, Chesterton was referring to the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob –  revealed at last through Christ, the Son of God,  Creator.

(Traditional) Christians know and teach that the Creator created everything, all that is real and good and true.   If you reject that Creator,  then according to Chesterton,  you open yourself to any other story –  any other story that you yourself want to tell yourself, or any other reconstruction of wholly imaginary ancient errors.     Including “no gods at all” as some  Greeks and Romans tried.

On March 12th we celebrated the life of St.Gregory the Great.  By all accounts,  contemporary and modern,   he became  “the Great”  because he was Good.   In everything he did he manifested his lifelong subjection to the  Goodness of God.    So much was placed on his shoulders,  but he retained his dedication to the Good.

Again, he was Great because he was Good in his words and actions.

(Reminds me – as an aside_  of de Toqueville’s assessment of  America when it was new,   fifty or so  years old.  His observation was that “America is great because America is good.”     As a whole, in general,  her citizens were good people.)

Full circle back to the Old Gods of Northern Europe:  It is said that when Gregory was still a bishop,  he was walking through a marketplace and saw two young children,  a boy and a girl,  on sale.    He stopped to look at them because they were unusual in appearance,  very fair skin, light yellow hair, and blue eyes.   Like the stereotypical angelic beings.

We know the commonly told story:  “Of what race are they?”  “The children are Angles.”    “Oh, they look like angels!”

“Of what province are they?”   “From Deira”  (Which breaks down into de ira:  the anger of God)    Gregory’s playful response was:  “Then we must rescue them from the wrath of God.”

“And what is the name of their king?”   “He is called Ella.”     “It is well.    Alleluia must be sung to God in their land.”

And so was sent Augustine, a great missionary,  with other Christians to Angle-Land to teach the Angles to worship the Only True God, the True God.

Without Truth there are lies, and lies bring confusion and division and dissatisfaction and all the other things that make us ill in this modern world because most have been led away from God.

It’s either/or.    Lies can’t prevail when the Truth is known.

In our modern world,  the Big Lie was Liberty –  but we lost true freedom.       Now our cultures believe in Anything and Everything, and so far there is no St. Gregory the Great to send teachers to show us the Truth.

It’s not impossible to seek after the Truth and to learn,  but it is well-nigh impossible.


Viking w

You would need the determination and strong spirit of a Viking Warrior!!











March 27, 2017

(Well,  I guess this is a 180 degree turn from my last posting.)

I’m writing today to sort of apologize to my class this afternoon —  No.   No, maybe to tweak their noses a little bit.    (Humor,  guys,  humor!)   You know how one things lead to another  .  .  .

It all started with Gideon.    Of the Bible.     And after he became a mighty warrior,  because he was a little wimpy at first.

Gideon's Army    He won one battle after another and finally saved his people from the Midianite army that was threatening to wipe out the Israelites altogether.  Just one more mopping up excursion – and the last two enemy kings were captured.

Brought to camp.   Tied to a post.    Ready for execution, which they expected.    And then — Gideon called his very young son over and said. “You do it!   You have honors.  Pick up the sword and kill them.”

Gideons Sword

The Bible reports that the young boy refused.  He was afraid.     Now “afraid”  covers a lot of reasons, and  not necessarily cowardice.     I explained to my class  that it’s not as easy as you’d  think to kill a man,  even if the  strong warrior prisoner has been tied to a post and can’t hurt you.

And once you have killed a man,  even the youth would understand this,  you’ve crossed some line;  it changes you.   So why did Gideon think of asking his son to do the killing?

tacitus writing

A little over a thousand years later,  a man named Tacitus wrote the history of ancient times all the way up to his times.  Through him we have a pretty good understanding of warfare and all the necessary practices of war.

Tacitus explains that young boys had to be trained how to be warriors – for their own safety,  for their own self-protection.  Their training included running,  strength-training,  “target” practicing,  and then learning how to kill the enemy — that is,  how to actually kill a man, because that’s what warriors have to do.


The young warriors-in-training were given live prisoners  to practice on.   How to thrust your sword between the bones;  how to hit a vital organ . . .  the best way to cut off . . .  you know,  anything.    These  “practice” kills harden the young boys, in their skills, in their consciences, in their hearts.

This is what Gideon was offering to his young son, training.   That’s what every nation who takes seriously its own self-defense must do for its young men:  train them, just in case.  You’d need to know how to use your sword or your javelin or your (heh  heh)  I added for my class,  your battle-axe  (if you’re a Viking) and need to learn how to crack a skull . . .

. . .   Yes, well,  I must have sounded too enthused because someone gently spoke up to remind me that “we are Christians,  we’re supposed to be people of peace . . .”




Who ever said history was dull?

My enthusiasm may have been a bit pumped up  because I’m  studying the Merovingians, right now,  and the Carolingians,  whose reign was cut short by the Vikings at the very  end of the 8th century on through the next almost two hundred years.       Great stuff!

I’m listening to several lecturers, one from The Great Courses –

great courses

–   and today in my car I  heard an off-the-cuff comment about the Viking named  Thorfinn Turf-Einarsson Hauskaluif    —    Thorfinn Skull Splitter, for short.   The lecturer dryly commented that their names often indicated Viking “procedures.”

We don’t know too much about him.  We don’t need to know;  we can guess.

Fast forward to today –  a century I don’t understand too well.         I have a few questions about the warrior spirit.

But  at least Thorfinn Skull Splitter lives on –  or, at least in name:

OOO skull guy


Yes.  There he is.

OOO Best Skullsplitter


On a beer bottle.     Apparently it’s a good Viking-strong beer,  a dark ale that is 8.2 alcohol by , um,  weight, I think.  A hefty punch!

You can get it from anywhere in the world, but the brewery is in the Orkneys –  that Viking stronghold now under the control of Scotland.

OOO orkney-brewery-logo

But, see?  I have a few questions about today’s warriors.    Today’s men, under the influence –  of  socialism,  such as Scotland and the whole of Great Britain.    Europe actually.

Skull Splitter beer has become  quite popular, and it attracted the attention of the socialist thought-police,  or whatever.   They had apparently discovered the name of this beer and they contacted the brewery.    Well, let me give a quotation from some reporter about this incident:

. . . the brewery was forced to defend Skull Splitter back in 2009 when it came under investigation from a British drinks industry “watchdog” called the Portman Group (which has the power to issue a nationwide ban against the sale of any alcohol product that steps afoul of its guidelines), who commissioned a report that concluded the beer’s name and labels were too aggressive. Apparently they felt that drinkers would read the name and then enter into an uncontrolled primal enthusiasm for drunkenness leading to the loss of all faculties except fervent engagement in all manner of ribald, reckless, and destructive behavior. And some good ol’ medieval axe-swingin’ violence, of course.

See?   I have a few questions about this current century . . . .




RED-GREEN for Father Hamel

July 26, 2016

Here is Father Jacques Hamel,  (martyr)   Rouen, Normandy,  France:

Father Hamel

Well, he doesn’t look like that any longer.   R.I.P.

(Nous sommes France!)

Bar wavy

Today is a day for anger.   For me.    Good causes for ranting.   Days like today I want to be a Man and put on my Viking armor, pick up my Battle Axe, and DEFEND my family, my clan, my tribe – because no one else seems to be doing so.

The Swedish blood in my veins boils.  Not just because the “Chicago”  of Europe is  now Malmö, Sweden!    Rape and murder capital of Europe.      Not just because Swedish girls are told to protect themselves by wearing bracelets that tell their attackers-from-foreign-lands to   “Be Nice.”

And not just because Swedish girls are now being told maybe they should wear a burka, when going out.  Wear a head scarf if you don’t want to be attacked.   In your own land!    Right in front of the noses of the men and leaders whom their Viking forefathers would be ashamed of.

Pahhhh!      These Swedish men would be afraid of their own Battle-Axe!   And that goes for all the liberal Swedish females who are trying to be  men-leaders.

Bar wavy

A whole violent political movement has declared war on the Western World,  Europe and North America, specifically.     They have declared it many, many years ago.    And since there has been NO response from the Western World,   they have had to repeat their declarations of war many times – and they have had to demonstrate their declaration of war, over and over again.

No, they don’t think we’re deaf.     They think  we’re are weak and effeminate.   We cannot pick up the challenge.      We are theirs for the taking.    And nearly every day we hear of their “Taking”  — with knives, machetes,  bombs,   and guns of all kinds.

Not clean kills either.    I’ve told you before it’s very “messy”  to slice through a  throat and cut someone’s neck off.    It takes practice and lots of strength.   That’s why I showed you photos of the little toddlers being trained to take off the heads of their teddy-bears *. . . .

But I don’t need to show you photos of the aftermath of brutal rapes and beheadings and disembowelments and burnings and drownings and crucifixions.   They’re all over the Internet.

Because they want us to know.

Because they’ve  declared WAR against us.    It’s in their book. 

So from now on when I write about these Warriors of the Crescent Moon god,   I will write about them in Green.    Their chosen color.

And when I write about the Deaf People in the Western World who ask us to be kind and forgiving to these Warriors,  I shall write in Red.    I will indicate dhimm-witted people by Red.    (Dhimmi-witted, that is,  because that’s what we subjugated people are:  Dhimmis.)

These Crescent-Moon Warrior Extremists killed Father Hamel today;  terrorizing him and the people in the church,  just as their ancient leader said to do.  He wrote in their book to use Terror in order to conquer **,    and he left them his explicit examples.     These Warriors humiliated the good priest and the people inside,  during the solemn ceremony of the Holy Sacrifice of the Mass,    then jumped up on the altar,  then yelled things in their language,  then sliced through Father Hamel’s throat.

And then they published threats of further similar deeds to churches in the UK and in the US.

father burning statue

SOON!   It says.   And that’s our Statue of Liberty on fire.      Because the whole world should be a caliphate of the Desert-Warrior Crescent Moon god.     Submit!!   Or die.   Do you NEED a citation for their authority?      Koran (Surah) 33:36:    “It is not for a believer, man or woman, when Allah and His Messenger have decreed a matter that they should have any option in their decision.”      You don’t HAVE an option.   The Crescent Moon god has decided for you!

And what is the brave response to this threat?

Some political leaders in Europe are asking us not to “make this a religious war.”    “Not to make this a war between religions.”      It’s not.   It’s a war of political and territorial conquest.    And we are being conquered in the current phase of this centuries-old war.

The archbishop of this area in France,  the one who is in authority over Father Hamel and is supposed to be his “shepherd”?

He speaks about his “sadness” at learning of the killing.  And then:  “The Catholic Church cannot take weapons other than those of prayer and brotherhood among men. I leave here hundreds of young people who are the future of humanity, the true ones. I ask them not to give in to the violence and become apostles of the civilization of love.”

Fight back, you young men and women,  with “prayer and brotherhood”?      You want prayer?   There is a young nun fighting for her life today –  also knifed in that church today.  Pray for her!

A Cardinal-Archbishop (of Manila,  Tagle)  expresses his grief,  prays for France,  and then says:      This “unhappy incident will help us understand in what way we can carry out the Social Doctrine of the Church,” he added.

Social Doctrine is needed?

The pope “asks the Lord to inspire in all thoughts of reconciliation and fraternity in this new trial, and to extend to everyone the abundance of His blessings”.

Reconciliation to . . . ?

The man that was put into the office of our presidency  (the US)  and who was raised as a Sunni Muslim in Malaysia said recently:   ““For Muslims across the United States and around the world, this is a time of spiritual renewal . .  .”   as he celebrates a major Muslim holiday.

Oh, speaking of “recently” –


Lots of deaths missing from this timeline,  but they were making  a limited point.

“Points”  have to be made about this war that has been declared against us.    We all have to think clearly about this. ***   “Points” are being used to attack us.   Maybe “points” have to be used in response.

My Grandpa fought in World War I.  My Dad fought in World War II.   My cousin fought in the Viet Nam War.      I always wondered when the next “hot war”  would come,  when we were being attacked and killed.


Bar wavy


.*  teddy bears  School.


. **     One place, for instance:     Qur’an 8:60 states: And prepare against them whatever you are able of power and of steeds of war by which you may terrify the enemy of Allah and your enemy and others besides them whom you do not know but whom Allah knows. . .

.***    Maybe it’s time I rearrange and add to my side links . . .     link to a few sites that keep us informed . . .  .



June 30, 2016

Those of you who know me know that I am not a fan of responding to enemy attacks with teddy bears, flowers, and candles.   Oh, yes – and holding hands.

Well, I’m not fond of “bracelets” either.

A few months ago there was a study of crime in Europe – and Sweden was declared the Rape Capital of the World.   Mild mannered,  recessive/submissive Sweden:  Rape Capital.    It doesn’t  go together.  But it turns out that the million or so Colonizers-Who-Don’t-Look-Like-Swedes have so much contempt for mild manners and submissiveness that they regularly attack, beat, rob, and rape the people of the country which is giving these colonizers free homes, free food,  free medical care, and free schooling.

That’s the situation.

Here’s Sweden’s official Remedy:

Bracelets in Sweden

According to the news reports,  festival season is coming up soon, and many young Swedish women and girls will be out in public.    (Yes, they know enough now to stay INSIDE their homes in the evenings and in the nights according to other news articles,  but this is a public  celebration . . .you know,  for fun? )

So to keep the Swedish women safe,  the Stockholm (Swedish) police have issued . . .  bracelets!       Yes!       And the bracelets mean business!      Those bracelets say: “Don’t molest me.”

In Swedish.

bar dissolve er

The Swedish blood coursing through my veins is not coursing quietly right now.

Apparently modern Swedish  police”men”  think that a  violent crime can be stopped by the victim’s bracelet,  with a message, written in Swedish.

Which the Colonizers refuse to learn –  because,  contrary to Western wishes,  they do NOT assimilate,  according to actual observers.

They take possession of whatever land they are permitted to live in.


Yellow and blue.  My two favorite colors together.    On the Swedish flag.

I would like to  reintroduce to these descendants of Vikings . . .  a thing or two.



June 9, 2016

Well, it’s been 60 degrees inside my house for the past couple days.    I feel the cool air more when I move through it.    If I keep moving, of course, I warm up, but my first inclination is to find a nice cozy quilt-cave to wait out this cold spell.    (Was  it just yesterday that I called my goldfish the Sissies?)

So,  me –


It’s fleece jackets, quilts, and books for me for a while.   And thinking.  (If you lived in my head, I think . . .  I really think you’d have a lot of fun.)

The thinking that my mind does comes from many angles, and sometimes the thoughts converge.     Today:  (1)  –  It’s Thursday, and I’m reminded by my common daily prayers that this is the day of the week that the Last Supper occurred;  and Christ told us:  “This is My Body.”   and then (2)   just a week or so ago was the Feast Day of Corpus Christi,  reminding us to think about  what This Is My Body really means.    And (3)   Thursday leads to Friday, the day which Jesus actually gave His “broken” Body in self-sacrifice for us . . .  which leads to Saturday,  Our Lady’s Day, alone with her thoughts,    and then Sunday . . . what it was all for.

Thursday to Friday to Saturday to Sunday . . .

Like climbing a  beautiful mountain,  beginning with Thursday leading all the way up to the summit of Sunday!       (Because we don’t just “remember”  these things;  we’re supposed to internalize them in amazed wonder . . .  and gratitude, if we really understand everything.     I’m running out of years, Dear Readers,  to get this right.)

(4)   So – my Dad?   My poor Dad?

A long, long time ago I enrolled in Arizona State University.  Wa-a-a-a-y   across the country.     My parents,  in a surprising gesture of generosity,  offered to drive me out there — because they needed to see that part of the country too.

LP  station wagon cr

I was 19 years old and the proud  “owner”  of two baby sisters, 2 and 4 years old that year.

We posed them in front of all the interesting scenery during that trip.

LP  sisters i front cr

I put them on top of everything,  so I could take their picture;  rocks, barrels, roadside signs,  touristy objects,   fake mules  :

LP Sisters on Top cr

And we, the whole family,  traveled through strange-looking territory:

LP strange places cr

Funny,  I do actually remember taking all these photos.   Like the proverbial  yesterday.

My Mom was often busy taking care of the little ones,  and that left my Dad and me free to explore the sites more intensely.      We were strong and adventurous.     I was 19, as I said,  and my Dad was an “impossibly” young 38 years old.

I thought he was invincible.

Somewhere along the trip we came to Long’s Peak, Colorado.      14259 ft.

Long's Peak

And there were signs all over about Hiking Trails and Climbing Long’s Peak —  and it sounded like a good adventure.     I don’t know if we went right to the very peak, where the mountain comes to a small point,  but we came pretty close.   I remember seeing signs for  “12,000”  feet and then “13,000”  feet, with arrows pointing onward and upward.

Here,  if you want to do it:

Long's Peak Trail

At about that 12,000 feet sign my Dad said something I thought I’d never hear him say:  “Let’s  stop and rest for a  little while.”

Oh, sure –  a chance for me to take lots of photos!      But my Dad didn’t.

And then, we went farther on,  higher and higher … until my Dad said something again.   Something like “Do you think we’ve gone far enough?”    He  sounded very much out of breath.

(Something I understand now whenever I visit my grandchild who lives  in the high altitudes of the Sierras.)

I said I wanted to take his picture, a photo of his accomplishment, so he put on a smile:

LP  Dad on Peak 400 cr

Right after that photo,  he plopped down hard on the ground – and shook his head in a rather frightening way but he didn’t say anything.   And I looked at him and he looked kind of funny.   The skin on his face was blotchy, white patches and red patches.  I’ll never forget those colors.

We had climbed longer and farther than most of the other people on the mountain that day.     It occurred to me that my Dad was in trouble and there was no way I could get him down the mountain and back to our car by myself.    My mind just went blank at the thought that my hiking enthusiasm  … might … have ….   killed him!

I should have been watching over him!   I should have been aware!

Well, he recovered.   He was young and strong – Viking stock.    We made it downhill and back to my rather concerned young mother . . . .

My Dad and I have talked about this incident occasionally.   He remembers how he felt,   but most of all what he remembers, and what he talks about,  was how glorious it was near the top of Long’s Peak.   What magnificent scenery.   How  beautiful, how lovely —  an amazing, thrilling adventure with no regrets.   And he was glad I had gone with him!

Climbing a mountain –   like  Thursday, Friday,  Saturday, and Sunday.

Honestly –  the thrill is so similar.  So real.   so life-and-death.


February 24, 2016

“When a man doesn’t see something, he cannot fear it.” (  from The Thirteenth Warrior)

“Fear precedes valor.”   (me)


You have looked through binoculars.   You know the little wheel that you turn (slowly)  to bring things into focus.

Well, it happened to me today.   I was watching my favorite movie (2nd favorite?)  this morning,  “The Thirteenth Warrior.”

Muslim and previking

I believe the western world needs a good dose of this movie – perhaps “thirteen” consecutive viewings . . . until you get it. 

As I watched,  I was thinking of the history of northern Europe,  the timeline,  and these Scandinavians in particular.

And it was like my “binoculars”  clicked into full focus on this timeline.

What pushed the wheel was the juxtaposition of this movie with three recent news* articles  concerning Sweden –  the probable location of “The Thirteenth Warrior.”

1.  One headline read:  “Swedish Police Admit That There Are 56 No-Go zones”  for them in Sweden.   Swedish police are NOT ALLOWED to go into many places in Swedish cities and towns.    (Oh,  this goes on in other European countries too . . . )

2.   Then I remembered this recent  photo:


Yes, the pre-Vikings in the movie wore “skirts” – or more properly what we’d call kilts — allows for much greater freedom — uh,  in battle, that is.   These are NOT kilts.  These are Swedish men (I think;  other northern men have imitated them recently)  – and they are showing their “solidarity”  with women.   They are marching down the street in women’s skirts and hose, in public,  while their own women are being attacked and raped – and killed  by . . . “foreigners.”      (I will spare you some of the photos)

(Doesn’t take much valor to talk and make signs.)

These “foreigners”  are the invaders who have publicly declared more than once  “YOUR WOMEN ARE OURS!”   And the northern European white men run for their . . . skirts.

3.   Headlines yesterday:   “Study shows that Swedish men will not come to the aid of a Swedish woman who is being raped.”


Now please take note:   It is true that the foreign invaders of Sweden are from southern countries and are part of the barbaric Muslims which exist today.   Therefore they feel superior to any other race or religion or society.   (But it is not their religion, necessarily, which makes them barbaric.  At the time portrayed in this movie,  the Islamic world was advancing in culture and literature and visual arts and science . . .  a little bit – until it was brought to a halt….)  —

muslim among the vikings

Now, by contrast,   the hero-narrator of “The Thirteen Warrior”   IS a Muslim, one who is cultured, refined, educated, civilized.   His intelligence and valor saves the pre-Viking society from a barbaric enemy.

Presumably these (men in skirts)  are the descendants of the Warriors in “The Thirteenth Warrior.”       Although the movie takes place in a time of around or before  800 A.D.,   the roles and functions of people within their societies have not changed.


Any man is made greater by his piety,  his patriotism,  and his valor.


So what about that Scandinavian timeline?

The pre-Viking Warriors in the movie had patriotism,  they fought for their patria – their families and lands.   They had piety;  they had a simple, unwavering faith in their gods, and knew their place before the gods.  And they certainly were brave.

The movie takes place before St. Olaf came to them.  Before St. Urhu came.  Before St.Bridget and St. Catherine,  and all the other Catholic saints were born,  named and unnamed  –  but when the Faith came,  Scandinavians were no longer the  uncivilized, barbaric  “Vikings”  of our historic imagination.

Until another king came along — and by decree took the Catholic faith away from them — well, I  know how it happened in Sweden.   This king**,  with no piety or  patriotism, preferred the   approval of Important Men of   Northern Europe to the south,    and the wealth and the status that their approval gave them.   In order to be “in league” with them, literally,  he had to give up his faith and the faith of his countrymen.

Might makes right, eh?

And so we have the devolution of society today.   Patriotism is whatever your ruler says it is.   Piety is — a troublesome idea from the past.

And valor?

Why?  Why bother?


This isn’t the end of our story, I don’t think.

It’s hard to put human nature down for long.   And human nature is made for piety, patriotism, and Valor!

.          Bar Cross in middle


*Because   the Rulers of America have given up our right to the Internet,  it may soon be illegal according to international law to link to news stories.    I will begin now, by refraining from giving you original sources.    I will “paraphrase” from personal knowledge and memory.  (56 places?  53 places?)

**Gustav Vasa    You could look up how he and his kind did this.

The word “fear” of course is the healthy, necessary fear one must have for those determined to conquer you.   But what you don’t know about the enemy,  you cannot fear.

This movie is similar to the book by Michael Crichton called Eaters of the Dead –  which in turn is inspired by Beowulf, which informed the character of Europeans for many, many centuries.

We have apparently forgotten . . . much.



December 8, 2015

(An impassioned rant today)

This is what men fight for:    “Mom, hot dogs, apple pie, and baseball.”

And granddaughters.


That’s my Grandpa and me, a long, long time ago.     Grandpa fought in WWI.         Navy:


One of those men is Grandpa –  I think in the middle, back row.    He served on the USS Utah in 1918.  Transport ship.

On the deck of the Utah in the Atlantic.


Swedish descendant of the Vikings.   I think he enjoyed his time in the Navy.

Then the ship was decommissioned   and brought to Pear Harbor.

USS Utah

There she is.  No longer seaworthy,  but doing her part in keeping the Navy strong and keeping American defenses strong.   Protecting grandchildren — as well as moms and sisters and wives and daughters.

She was used as target practice at the Pearl Harbor naval base.

Until December 7th,  1941.

shps blow

I hope children in school are taught the details of our military strength,  of the attack on us that day,  of the many men who lost their lives that day, and of the many thousands of men who rushed to sign up to defend our country in the Navy, the Marines,  and the Army (and Army-Air Force).

But I fear children have not been taught why we fought in those days.    There is no other reason why a generation or two of people, under age 45,   have not raised a mighty protest at the news last week that young women are going to be placed in Combat  situations.

Combat.   A fine waste of womanhood — because they can’t do it!   They can’t do what men do in battle.  Women have aptitudes and skills and courage and determination and certain abilities that are needed by any society,  and even in some places in the military — but they can’t do combat.

Unless you think that being a soldier just  means “pulling a trigger.”

The strongest and biggest, most well-trained women still have 40% less upper body strength than men.

The strongest, biggest, most well-trained women still have the lung capacity of a 50-year-old man.   Nothing wrong with 50-year-old men;  it’s just that we don’t expect them to do the same work as a strong, young 22-year old warrior.

Women don’t produce much of the hormone needed to be aggressive enough in battle (combat) situations.    There is a level of aggressiveness that is needed in battle — that would horrify most  peace-time Americans.

Our  Marines just spent many millions of dollars  (36 million)  to  determine whether women can perform as well as men in combat situations.      They can’t.     36, 000, 000  — spent on what our grandparents and parents already knew.    The Marine Corps also spent a lot of money to produce female infantry  officers.     No woman passed the course.

Shame on political philosophies which ignore human reality.  Shame on the nation that puts its women in “combat”  situations.   Shame on the society that dishonors its own women.    Shame on the political agenda that weakens our military readiness.    Shame on the generations who allow themselves to be indoctrinated into “gender neutrality.”

Men are important for certain things in a society.  Women are important for certain things in a society.   Men are not women.  Women are not men.

Mankind has known that instinctively —   but as we know,  instincts can be (almost) bred out of an oppressed society.    Political Correctness and Distorted Role Models are hammered into people.

December 7th – and a movie?    I would highly recommend The 13th Warrior.     Don’t fret that it is a classic tale written down in the early Middle Ages and handed down orally from centuries before that.   I suspect it’s based on actual history and it’s very relevant for today.  Perhaps even an antidote for the effeminacy that has been inserted into our society.

Watch it for the comparison of a civilized culture  (the Moors),  a half-civilized culture  (the Vikings).  and a primitive, rather uncivilized culture.    Observe the differences.

Sure, there is blood, gore,  battles, fear, death,  and  mysteries,  but there is also the defense of what is important to human beings:  courage, intelligence,  determination,   comradeship,  earned respect,   men of good character who communicate across cultures.

A brutal, savage attack brings out the best in the men and the attack is repulsed. . . . and civilization can continue to develop in that area of the world.

Best lines of the movie:   The refined and cultured Moor asks, “I don’t suppose we have a plan . . . ”      The rough Northmen:  “We ride until we catch up to the enemy and then we kill them all.”

That’s a virile, courageous answer.   That’s what’s needed when men are called upon to be defenders.     That’s what protects “Mom, apple pie, hot dogs, and baseball. ”   Or whatever is your way of life.

Women,   children,  families,  your tribe, your clan, your ethnic group,  your nation, your empire — whatever it is,  you protect it in order to continue on with the best your society offers.

December 7th, 1941 – Pearl Harbor Day,  when America also was attacked — and men rose to the occasion in combat.

(Please don’t play the marxist conversation-stopper game:  “But what about the . . . .”       “But what about women, don’t leave them out; they can do things for the war effort too…”    Of course they can.   That wasn’t the point. )

Let us keep Pearl Harbor Day as a “Day of Infamy,”     yes,  but also a day to be proud of our fighting men who answered their country’s call.   Our enemies meant to defeat us,  but our soldiers pushed back and fought back.

I wish we would stand up and push back and fight back and take our country back.    If not, if we don’t blush with shame at out Rulers’ agenda for us,  to confuse us and weaken us  with their agenda of “gender neutrality,”  we’ll lose it all.

In the real world,  men are not women and women are not men.




December 2, 2014

“The lady”  would be me — and Son gave me the most fun part of the job!

Tree Pulling Event

My job was to tug on this yellow rope until the tree fell down.   Well, to tug on the rope in order to steer it while it fell down.

Son — sometimes known as Chainsaw Man —  appeared yesterday ready to take down that last doomed  pine tree before the professional crew came.   He sawed through the trunk —  and I tugged  —  and suddenly the rope went slack as the distance between me and the tree rapidly decreased!   I have a  feeling the tree fell where it wanted to.      But I helped it.


I’ve never seen anyone zip through a tree so fast.  This was late yesterday afternoon, which means darkness was coming fast,  but Son made that whole tree  practically “disappear.”

And then, early this morning,  the Crew arrived.


A whole bunch of noisy trucks, and one of them had to squeeze into a narrow space on the side of my house.

I wondered how they’d drive a heavy truck back there.


They made their own “road”  and backed slowly into that narrow space to take down a dead wild cherry that threatened my garage.


We had several tall trees to take down and two to trim overhanging branches from.


Really, really tall trees.


And then the big one, our longtime “friend”  —  Piece by piece it came down, each piece dropping to the ground with a great thud.



And there it lay . . .  in giant pieces.     It was blocking the view right as you go out the front door.   It did seem like an obstacle.   It was getting crowded out by the bigger oaks around it.      But…       For thirty years.    For thirty years I’ve had to peek around it in order to see straight out….    It was always there, in the way.     There’ll  be a big void there now.     A big empty space.

I can’t put it back.    And it’s what we wanted, when we weren’t feeling sentimental.

It was fun pulling down trees.     Just not the one that was ten feet from my very own front door.

Son and I worked late into the evening to move these big logs out of the way —  I mean,  to move all this firewood out of the way.


This was a noisy day.      Truck engines.    Roaring chain saws of all sizes.      Impossibly loud chipping machines turning the branches into tiny bits.     Thuds.  Cracks.  Crashes.   And then there was Son, bursting into the house, with his outside voice:   “Where’s my axe?”   “I can’t find my axe.”    “Have you seen my axe?”       “I looked all over for it.”     ( Truly,   a man without an axe.)

I was going to offer him my Blue Axe,  but . . .   it’s lady size.    I came out to the garage with him.    He suddenly lurched forward and shouted out: ” There it is!!”     He picked up his huge axe.  It’s size would have embarrassed my Blue Axe.     He turned to me with a big happy smile:   “I looked there before and here it is!!!”

Spoken like a true Viking Son.

Chop!  Hack!   Bang!   Thud!   Chips flying all over.       We’re in business again.      A man and his axe.

Viking Axe



November 30, 2014

(First Holiday)   –

Well, the “transition” is partly the drive home from my parents’ home in Florida, where my parents are “no more”  to my home in the Far North, where I am “more.”      That is, God has decided that there would be some more of me here on earth, and I sit, now  in the foggy wonderment of gratitude.

Meanwhile,  two holidays have occurred.     I’m honored to have been within 20 miles of the very first site of designated thanksgiving on these shores,  near this river, here, in Florida:


thanks river site

This was one of the sites in North America where it was reported that there are precious living souls that have never heard the name of Jesus,  and good young men rushed off to bring material help and spiritual aid to the native peoples.    After a propitious start,  a Thanksgiving to  the Most High God was decreed, and that was near St. Augustine, Florida, in the mid 16th century.

thanksg priest

On my way out of Florida I decided to stop at a history museum to see what I could learn about this era.   It was the Brevard Museum of Science and History.    The building didn’t look like much from the outside,  but inside I was entranced and captivated by the informative displays — i.e.  “I learned a lot” !

thanks river site

Near that river in the  photo above is a large area of bogs:

windover bog

Desolate, dark, swampy areas with compacted biological and mineral matter  —   Perfect for preserving the details of life as it existed long ago.   If you were a scientist digging into those bogs,  you would see exciting, promising walls of bog like this:


Really!   If that doesn’t excite you,  you ought not to be an archeologist or a paleontologist!

Slowly, with toothpick and toothbrush, and other such fine tools,  the scientists uncovered the details of life among the native American people here in Florida.    I was looking at the Windover Tribe.    I’m afraid I moved slowly from area to area with open mouth and slack hands at my side – not conducive for much picture-taking –  but I managed to take  a couple photos, out of great respect for these people:


Actual cloth  woven by the tribe (preserved in bog color, of course).  The weaving was exquisite and of great variety, more variety than we have in our clothes today.

And then there was this child, lovingly and carefully buried:


She is about five years old and she is buried with some toys.   They cared about her.    She is buried  in a water grave;  literally laid to rest under a few feet of water,  covered,  the body tied down with those triangles of sticks,  covered again, and weighted down by rock so tide and predators won’t take her away.

These water graves were not used anymore by the time the missionaries came to the Florida shores,  depicted in this mural:


Here is the truth about what those first missionaries found:     Archeologists found that the people were about the same height as the Europeans, averaging 5 feet 6 inches to about 5 feet 8.    They were subject to many nutritional deficiencies and  degenerative diseases, often including degenerative arthritis and tooth infections leading into the jaw.  Ouch.

The Windovers were one of several small tribes up and down the coast of Florida, and there is evidence of deep wounds,  bones scarred and shattered by arrows, spears, and clubs;  and so in spite of the standard obligatory museum statements that the natives were “peaceful” and lived in harmony with their world,  evidence supports the conclusion that they were no different from people who live anywhere in this Fallen World.    They waged war, and as Columbus had found a few decades before,   they  kept slaves, they murdered and tortured each other to quite an alarming degree.

There is evidence of fear, superstition,  and magic.   Here is just one glass-enclosed case of their personal-size,  hand-held idols:


It is to these people that the missionaries came.

thanks mass among

Yes, of course,  other kinds of Spaniards came,  but the Church decreed in several papal bulls that the indigenous people were not to be harmed, and that their culture was to be respected and kept intact.   On pain of excommunication.    (The Vatican had about as much power over the Conquistadors as the Vatican today has over the likes of a Ted Kennedy,  Nancy Pelosi,  or a Tony Blair…. or other names we know who publicly claim to be Catholic.)    But even villains have souls;  and is there anyone beyond hope?

I’m becoming rambly now.    Rambly:  my mind is beginning to ramble, because I’m a historian by nature, and I know of myriads of cultures and societies that have come and gone on this planet;  like these Windover people.    Like the Rus Vikings in my own heritage,  no longer Christian,   degenerated now into a bunch of bewildered Swedes who are being beaten down  (literally, physically)  and overwhelmed and overcome by the African Muslims who are busy overtaking Sweden .

If I can ramble one little step further:  I love my Swedish heritage,  but  without the knowledge of God,  they are subject to all the ordinary evils of this world, including confusion,  weakness, , and displacement.

So I arrived home with the knowledge of another small society which some great young men had attempted to impart the knowledge of  the One and Only True God.       Then it was my opportunity to give thanks, with my very small family,  with turkey, stuffing, and sweet potatoes, happy that though we may be just  one temporary culture along the stream of Time,   there is preserved in us the knowledge of God.

…and happy to learn and obey this:  “In every thing give thanks: for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus concerning you. . . .”   (I Thessalonians 5:18)

So thanks to all those missionaries who settled both coasts of Florida;    and northwards up the Mississippi;  and southwards down the Mississippi;     across Mexico;  upwards along the coast of California;  downwards along the Pacific Northwest coast;   all along the Great Lakes;  down the St. Lawrence River;  Upper New York state;  Vermont;  New Hampshire.

East; West;  North;  South;  and right in the middle of our nation,   the missionaries brought the news of Jesus Christ. . . .

. . . .   the missionaries soaked the ground with their blood.

Perhaps we do have a mission in this world.

Deo gratias.



September 6, 2014

axe silh


Son can have his blue chain saw (yesterday’s post)   — but I found my own weapon today!

Well,   that’s a garden tool.   At least it was in my hands.

Sometimes Life gives you overwhelming challenges, daunting tasks that you’re not sure you even have the resources to get through.     Sometimes it’s physical challenges, when you know the task at hand requires possibly more than you can give it.


This was my mission today,  the aftermath of our tree felling.   The brush is actually taller than it looks in the picture.   And bigger.   And a lot more than it appears.   I had no idea what to do with it,  where to put it,  or how to begin,  but I knew I had to do something, because I live in a neighborhood, and people would . . .   not like this idea for new landscaping.

Son had begun sorting out the pieces of the tree he had taken down, so that gave me an idea how to proceed.


Then I remembered the Blue Axe that I had bought when I was out West this summer.   For the next four or five hours I cut and chopped and sliced and hacked and cracked the bark and splattered the sap all over….

And my imagination took me back to Viking days when every Viking had his own special battleaxe: carried it with him wherever he went, slept with it, ate with it… sliced, hacked, cracked and splattered things with it.

I enjoyed using my axe.  At the end of the day, I was hot and tired,  every joint in my body had been jolted, when one hand got tired I used the other so both hands have blisters,  but I’ve got all my fingers and toes tonight,  so I think I got pretty good with that axe.

My mind was busy too,  but I’m not going to draw any lessons from this day’s work for you.  I’m usually rather “bookish”  —   five hours is more commonly spent with a really good difficult book in front of me, learning many things  — but today  I learned by stretching myself, physically,  and practicing something new.

blue axe

I got in touch with another part of me and learned some other kinds of things.   Something else in my blood.





U.S.S. UTAH – Remembering

May 25, 2014

One family’s Memorial Day:

A photo taken from the forward deck of the U.S.S.  Utah  –  (1918)


Perhaps it was the Viking in my Grandpa’s heritage that made him choose the Navy.   That water rolling over the deck stirs the blood!


My Grandpa was off to fight The War to End All Wars.   The Great War.   The War to Turn Back the Huns – who marched towards world domination and threatened the freedom of citizens in Europe.      Woodrow Wilson was elected on the promise that he would keep America out of the war – did you know that? –  and Americans believed him.   But he was a world socialist at heart,  a believer in one-world government,  and so we all – collectively –  fought for that particular common good.   I’m not angry about that war.    Those issues belong to my grandparents and great-grandparents.


All I know is that my Grandpa thought he was doing a good thing, and so he became part of the crew assigned to the U.S.S. Utah.   In these pictures he was on his way to France to supply the battleships.   He had some “duty time”  in Paris, that I’m sorry I never thought to ask him about.   Instead, I asked him  what he and his friends did on the ship.   He told me he spent most of his time on board below decks –  a waste of far-seeing blue Viking eyes, in my opinion.   He worked with dangerous and dirty machines in the dark, but the real danger came from the German boats that had the U.S.S. Utah in their sights at times.


These are  some of his friends.   I can’t decide if my Grandpa is in this picture.

Why did they go?  They were protecting their families back home.


And I think they truly were.   Dictatorships had arisen.   Was it worth it to fight against Napoleon?     Was it worth it to fight the Franco-Prussian war and prevent a German/Austrian takeover of Europe?   Was it worth it to fight against the ambitions of Hitler?     My Grandpa and his friends would have thought so.


Life was waiting for them back home – if they made it back home.   The girlfriend was waiting for him.   Good, pure, moral, loyal, and capable of running their future home and raising their future children.    Together,  they made it through many serious difficulties and dangers, but they worked hard and became a family

And when that happened,  then many years later,  my Grandpa could tell me some things about those days of war.



My Grandpa and many others made it home safely.   The U.S.S. Utah was safe for a while.  And then it was sunk – at Pearl Harbor – at the beginning of another war.

So, this is one family,  one person at least,  remembering the dangers and sacrifices the men of our military made to keep us free and to give us a life we call “normal.”



October 22, 2013

My last posting was called Bias to the Normal.   Normal, my foot!    Nothing about the last 48 hours has been normal!


A mother goes berserk when her son is lost.    I knew the flight pattern that would take him from The Netherlands to his home.   I posted a screen shot of it in that last posting.  I knew how long it would take him to drive home after that.     But he didn’t arrive.

And for the next 24 hours or so,  absolutely no one knew where he was.    No communication with him.     Nothing.

Nothing but a very overactive imagination on my part.   I imagined a whole lot of things that could happen to him.     Hour by hour by hour. . . .

When frantic frequent prayers brought no results I turned to —

SAMSUNGYeah. . . .I opened up a brand-new picture puzzle.    I had to do something to stop pacing and start breathing again.    Did nearly the whole puzzle that day.

At a certain time, I turned to that most meditative of prayers and lost myself in the Gospel story for about twenty minutes.    You know the part about Our Lady “losing”  her son Jesus for a few days in Jerusalem?    I nearly lost it there, but I can say I now understand.  I understand.  I understand this Fifth Joyful Mystery.


When Son finally appeared at my door,  I felt like a robot;  couldn’t move.    There was the reality standing before me.   I had had him kidnapped and murdered;  jailed;  mugged and bonked on the head;    sick and unable to identify himself;    in Pago Pago after having gotten on the wrong plane with no way of getting back;    detained and lost forever by Airport “Security”;     chopped up and buried someplace after a fight in Detroit over his beautiful black GTO which had been waiting for him….

Well, I was right to worry about one of those things.   Son came in and sat down and proceeded to talk, non-stop, for the next few hours.

After two missed flights – (TWO!   have you ever heard of anyone missing two flights in a row?)  –    and I’ll spare you all the details, all the roadblocks that the world seemed to throw in front of this young man —  he finally arrived, once again, at the airport looking rather unkempt,  very much lacking in sleep,  hungry,  agitated,  hot and sweaty,  unable to focus on anything except hoping to get  on the plane.

Now imagine that you’re  Airport Security and you have someone standing in front of you who looks agitated, unfocused, sweat running down his face,  impatient with questioning,  all  alone,  can’t find his baggage claim ticket to prove he had checked some baggage –  and he looks like a Viking –  tall, blond, blue-eyed, and muscular…..and he claimed to have no problem with all the extra money this is costing him…..and he didn’t connect with all the questions…..

Miraculously,  they let him on the plane.  Miraculously,  he was not “flagged” when he landed in America.  MIraculously,  he made it home.

I asked him one question.   About when was it that you were being questioned by the authorities?    I didn’t say anything then,  but his answer told me that it was at the same period of time that I had my rosary in my hand.

Who says working a good picture puzzle can’t calm you down enough — so that you can then think to do the right thing!!!!

Deo gratias.


September 13, 2013

13 goth

I find the whole idea of triskaidekaphobia mildly fun.   As a child, I wanted to participate in all the “fear”  about the number 13,  but it was like Halloween frights – just not really real.   I      (a contemporary woman with Viking blood flowing in her veins –  genealogically speaking, of course)   was interested to find out that Loki, that mighty god of destruction that frequently appears in warrior tales, is considered the 13th in the list of Norse gods.

Well,  okay.   Doesn’t do much for me though.

Jacinta2     Today is not only Friday the 13th,   but it is September 13.    On this day in 1917 there was a Fifth visit of the Virgin Mary to the three children in Fatima, Portugal.  (The Fifth on the 13th.)     By now, many  people had heard of these monthly visitations,  and in September tens of thousands of people had gathered for what they hoped to be an apparition that they also could see.

They didn’t see much.  Maybe a  flash of light.   And the vision?    I know what was said was important (keep praying the rosary so the war will end soon; some people in your village will be cured, some won’t;   you three children:  lighten up a bit on your mortifications),  but mainly, this visit seemed to be all about announcing the next one, in October, the really, really big one.

So no big theatricals.   Just daily prayer, daily faithfulness, daily perseverance.

But  there is a fun-scary link here between Loki and Fatima, in my mind, provided by mu Friday morning class.

Today, they were discussing  the Readings  that many of you will hear on this coming Sunday.  The first one involves the story of Moses at the time that he was up on the top of Mt. Sinai, receiving instructions from the Lord God.    He was gone for so long,  that the people, who had been led out into the desert by Moses  thought that Moses was dead.    Dead and gone.   And without having yet received much instruction,  some of them reverted back to the gods of Egypt whom they knew well.


God literally interrupted His conversation with Moses and said “You’ve got to go now. The people who came with you are down there sinning greatly – they’ve  become totally depraved, and I’m not going to be able to work with them….”   (loose paraphrase.)

Knowing this meant their destruction,  Moses began to plead with God to not destroy them.   He appealed to God, he reasoned with God, he begged God to be merciful….

Well, that lit the fires of imagination, as often happens with this class.  And they speculated,  what if Moses had not worked so hard to intercede?    Moses could have said,  “You’re right.  Put an end to them.”

And God could have waited until some other “Abraham” came along,  some other group of descendants from that person,  another tribe of people through whom the Incarnation would happen,  some other “Moses” to lead them….  We could still be waiting for this process to develop.

And I could still be fearing Loki, the 13th god of the Viking pantheon.

And my country would be living in a state of ignorance about Christianity, with no knowledge of Christ in its schools and government and public square.

Fearful indeed.


September 17, 2010

J’Accuse….   So begins one of the  most famous letters ever written —  and one of the most significant.   As a matter of fact, if we re-called to mind ( or learned ) the issues of L’affaire Dreyfus and considered the implications of that Affaire, we American’s would probably be in a much better situation today to rise up against those  who rule us with injustice and deception,  robbing us – literally – of life, liberty, and the pursuit of Happiness.

But we don’t, as a nation, show any signs of rising up to defend ourselves right now, as the U.S. Constitution instructs us to do.

Archeologists discovered and studied  this Viking skull.    The man died fighting,    as you can tell by the hole in the side of his head.       I think about him once in a while.   Did he rise up and fight and die honorably, defending himself and his family and his land?   Or did he die because he wasn’t ready to defend himself when he was being attacked?   

It makes a difference.

Interesting that the US  Constitution is a document guaranteeing our freedom and the USS Constitution is a battleship that fought, successfully, to defend our nation against the enemy.

The Pen may be mightier than the Sword (or ship’s cannon), but if we don’t rise up and use our Pens – or their equivalent –  in the defense of liberty, does that make the need for the  Sword more likely?


July 20, 2009

  I write for my ancestors today;  or the great-great-grandparents of my ancestors.


I have no photos of them, of course, but I suspect some of the men in my family look a lot like them.   Well over six feet tall.   Light-colored hair.   Deep blue eyes.   Lots of muscles in their arms and shoulders.    I look at my grown son and sometimes think: “Popeye!”     ( Good thing he doesn’t know that.)    Although he is a kind and caring medical professional, I saw a strange, glowing happiness in his eyes recently, with a sledgehammer in his hands, pounding down an old wall.    I’ve seen him pretty happy with a chainsaw too.   He looks at things directly and honestly.   I think he would have made a good warrior.  

Well, I have a feeling these ancestors of mine were pretty direct and straightforward in their actions.  Keenly aware of duty and danger.  Loyal to the family (clan) and courageous.    And religious. I don’t think they expected a long life here anyway.   Death comes frequently for babies and young children, for the injured and the sick, for the fishermen at sea, and for the warriors.


Does it sound like I’m praising them?   I’m merely admiring their strength and their good qualities.    This picture is not a Viking warrior.    This is their god.    Thor.    Thor is a bit lesser than the One True God-Most-High, but a god anyway.    A barbarian god.

The first written record we have of the Vikings is from about the last decade of the 8th century.  Christian men of England saw them approaching in their longboats.  The Christian men thought they were similar to themselves and must have come a long way to do some trading with them.   They “welcomed” them and “dialogued” with them and tried to understand what they were saying.  

There were few survivors.

Viking Attack

I want to bring my “Serious Series”  to a close this week.   It  is my observation that there is another kind of invasion going on in this country.    A certain international faction is invading with a ferocious barbarity – not with warfare, but with a series of relentless steps that have us surrounded, weakened, and soon to be defeated.  

I would like to shout out to my countrymen that the barbarians are here!   Defend yourselves!   Defend your familes!  Defend your country!      But it will not happen.   My country is in no mood to defend itself.

Just not in the mood.


July 7, 2009

I’m motivated to write this “Serious Series” simply because I see contemporary evidence of this process, just everywhere I turn.    I have been describing the takeover of  nations by a certain international faction.  They were at work in the 19th century, and in the 20th century,  in such nations as Russia and China and numerous smaller nations,  they have been successful everywhere.  They are patient and they learn by experience

I used to think this faction was the sum total of totalitarian forces.    But I don’t think so anymore.     Caritas in Veritate has shaken me to the core – literally.   I feel pursued.   Perhaps it’s an overreaction.    I can be that way, sometimes. 

Chains of Peter

Chains of Peter

Some of us read the Daily Martyrology.   It’s a sobering and yet joyful exercise.  A few days ago the martyrdom of several men was mentioned.  After their suffering was briefly recounted, it was mentioned that they were direct disciples of St. Peter in Rome.    I thought to myself:  “It must have been rather dangerous to have known Peter in those days.”

To have associated yourself with Peter, while he was at Rome, would have been to place yourself on a Criminal Watch List.

And so it goes today.    Anyone who associates himself  with the traditional and unchanged teachings that have come down from Jesus, through his Apostles is now out of step with the world.   

This time I’m not “overreacting” — Read the recent words of the man in the White House.   This is a screen shot:

Criminalizing normalcy

He is speaking, of course, to a group of people who find erotic thrill in shameful acts that result in tearing the delicate flesh of their sexual partners, and other acts resulting in injury, disease, depression, rage, loss of economic producitvity — I speak in material terms only, because one can read material statistics that support these results.

The structure of human society passed down from the Creator of humans results in freedom and dignity and peace with the Creator and with one’s fellow man.    That is not something the materialists put in their statistics.

Nevertheless, such teachings are “outmoded” and “unjust” and “unfair.”    And such is the pronouncement of the “head” of this country.   

Miguel Pro

Miguel Pro


Here is Father Miguel Pro, Hero and Martyr, just a few short minutes before he stood up, arms outstretched, blessing the soldiers in front of him, and accepting the bullets that provided his martyrdom.   

The spiritual forces that impelled those bullets are the same ones at work today, as the many-headed Hydra, appearing as now one faction, now another, now one set of beliefs, now another.

The only things they have in common is opposition to the freedom Americans were given in the Bill of Rights.   Freedom is “messy.”    Free people may choose to be independent and self-governing.   

How about that, my Viking Ancestors?   Your chieftans were “first among equals.”   Viking DignityYour traditions gave rise to the legal systems which defended the freedom and dignity of each individual.   You would tolerate no tyrant who called you a criminal on arbitrary and changing grounds!


July 2, 2009

Those deer have sure been a distraction in my last two posts!   I intend, now, to go forward with my Serious Series of how an international enemy faction takes over a nation.   This faction has to (1) silence their enemy, and then once they are voiceless, (2) define the enemy in such a way as to make them seem unattractive, out of date, and obstructive.   Before I go on to the 3rd step, criminalizing the enemy group, I thought I’d look around for any evidence of what’s happening, here and now.

I found so much evidence, that I need only present to you:   ALL the media!    Or so it seems.

In order to slow down the progression of my latest hobby, that of collecting bookcases (oh, yes, not just books, I need whole new bookcases),  I sometimes often go to the library and read their books.  (Let them worry about storage.)    Here is one that just jumped off the shelf at me.   Since my Swedish ancestors are ever my audience, I thought it would be fun to visit the Old Country and see what’s left.


Not much, it turns out.   Not much of the historic Swedes.  I guess this was a contemporary nature/travel book.   That’s okay.   It’s pretty up there.   Mountains, lakes, forests, coastlines, snow…and reindeer.   But they made a pretense of including Sweden’s history.   There are 364 pages in this book;  pages 21-29 are given over to the 1,500 years after Christ.

Looking down on a reindeer herd in snow

Looking down on a reindeer herd in snow

Actually, the Rus Vikings and their descendants spread out from the Swedish peninsula into western Russia, governing and trading from Kiev.

Map Kievan Rus yellowedDuring these centuries Christianity was introduced into Sweden (with strong opposition from the Norse gods!) and for 500 years the Swedes were loyal to the Church.   The country grew and became strong and spread widely.  (Follow the yellow)

But times were changing.    Soon nationalism, capitalism, parliament-ism, and Protestantism brought about a series of costly and bloody civil wars and warring alliances.  Although they were “players” in Europe, their nation and their influence contracted drastically.    This period of time begins with what this book called “the Age of Freedom”  when Sweden was ruled by “enlightened” monarchs.  (p. 39)     uh…    (Notice:   “apart” from the Church, they become “enlightened” and “free.”)

This downward trend continues today.   If you read Swedish newspapers, the articles and commentaries ask such questions as, “What is a Swede?”

Today the Swedes are known as “nice” people.   Bland-nice.  Silenced-voice nice.   The favorite sport of their growing Arab minority is to board a public bus and rob all the Swedish passengers.     When asked by foreign reporters why they keep doing this because Sweden has been so “nice” to them, these young thugs reply:  “Because the Swedish people are nice – and they let us!   Besides, this is our country now.l”

Yes, nice people are easily silenced.    And people who have lost their religion forget that they are people too, with worth and dignity and personal rights.   So I have shown my Swedish ancestors what has happened to the modern world.    As evidenced in this book, the entire Catholic experience of Sweden was made nearly invisible;  and the   effects of Chrsitianity were entirely ignored.    Nothing to think about here…”Move along…nothing to see here.”


June 29, 2009

Second in my awful “Serious Series” —  Steps in the Takeover:

We kids used to hear this all the time:  “Stop!  Look!  And Listen!”       — One of those things that grown-ups said to us, and we knew there was some sort of wisdom behind it.  Maybe we even practiced it once in a while.

I don’t feel so good about that saying anymore, though.   Who has time to Stop!  in our busy schedules?    Who can pay enough attention to really Look! honestly at what we are seeing?    Who will take the effort to Listen!  to what is being said and compare it to our inner common sense — and admit that something is very wrong?

The “New and Fun” way to be informed!


Verbal engineering precedes social engineering.   Words don’t have the same meaning as before, and the changes are being imposed upon us at a more rapid rate than the normal organic changes in spoken languages. 

And so we get to Step Two in the takeover of a nation, used successfully in the past two centuries by a certain political faction intent upon tearing down the existing world and constructing a wolrd according to their own purposes.   Oh, yes,  “change” is the slogan of revolutionaries, but they don’t tell us  that  first they have to tear down our nation in order to impose their “change.”

The frog hides in the weeds — or the weeds are tossed onto the frog.   Frog Hiding 1Their First Step I wrote about before is to make their chief opponents invisible to the rest of society.  

They do this by inflating the amount of people who agree with them by suich means as carefully crafted opinion polls or media atttiudes;   by Bookdropencouraging and financing only the information and entertainment that agrees with them (as in my Mom’s Book of the Month Club),  and by ignoring groups that don’t agree with them.   Ever wonder what happens to your phone calls and emails to our government?

     The Second Step, then, is to Describe-and-Demonize the groups that stand in their way by the use of publicly-spoken official words.     This is a little more actively aggressive and targeted step against their enemies. 

Lies work real well, and so does exaggeration and distortion.    People who aren’t targeted rarely have the time to question the accusations.   Marie Antoinette did NOT say:  “Let them eat cake”  but this propaganda was quite effective against the royal family.   The Tsaritsa Alexandra did NOT have a secret phone line to the German government, but that deliberately spread rumor inflamed the Russian people. 

In both cases, the campaigns of villification led to the deaths of the monarchs, but it also led to the deaths of countless other innocent citizens.   Politically-motivated lies can have deadly consequences.   If you have time, look up the treachery against the Vendees of France.   Yes, offers of “tolerance”  and “compromise” can have deadly results too.

We were warned about all this at the beginning of the 20th century.   These three children were at the heart of the warning:

Fatima three children

From what I observe and from what I hear people say, our existing society is under attack.  We are in the way of those who wish to be our Overlords.   We were warned about this — and as a society, as a Church, for all practical purposes we did nothing.

Fatima Newspaper

This is a photo from a newspaper at the time of the warning.    The newspaper actually told the truth and showed photos.     The message was ignored, silenced, described as “doom-and-gloom”  and then demonized and lied about.    To the advantage of the Overlords.

I said before I don’t like this Series that I’m doing, but there is anger growing in me.   I don’t know if it is the anger of helplessness or the anger of seeing so many people do nothing in the face of growing tyranny, or if it is the natural anger that comes from grieving a serious loss.    There is Viking blood coursing in my veins….Would my ancestors tolerate such a defeat?    Perhaps it’s time to go pick up my “pen” and go a-viking!


June 3, 2009

Hilda Larson SharpenedDear Hilda, Daughter of Vikings, Great-Grandmother of me,

How am I doing?   I reference you as I go about my daily life.    You are the reason I like to say the word Fortitude, not just Courage.   Being  the strong mother of the farm, way up north, took strength and fortitude such as you had but I’m merely practicing.

I have assigned myself different duties than you had.   My guide is the ancient “ora et labora”  and I have to study and learn more than you felt compelled to do — but my world knows far less than your world knew —  and it is urgent because their softness and ignorance is destroying them.

But maybe some of our duties are the same.    You had a huge black iron stove that burned wood but it could bake, roast, simmer, keep warm, ferment yogurt and make the yeast rise – all at the same time!

I have a small fancy, easy stove, but I like to think we have produced similar things on our stoves.

Pasties Stove

I also have a smaller table.   Don’t laugh….this is all I made…but it was enough for guests.   

A kitchen – like a heart – must always be open.


May 31, 2009

It is Pentecost.   Looks like…   Sounds like…   Feels like….

Fireplace Best Web

Our fireplace looks so hot, and when the fire is  intense, it sounds like flames and hot wind roaring up the chimney;  and it feels like we’ve got something powerfully dangerous just barely contained in its place.

Fire is  intense, insatiable, burning, consuming;  encompassing everything in its area of influence.    In a human it would be called “fervent.”    That is what the in-coming of the Spirit of God looked like and felt like to the eyewitnesses at Pentecost.

First there was sound.   I like to think of it as the nearing-approach of the power of the spiritual realm  ripping into the physical, material realm.    It sounds like the force of a 60 mile an hour wind roaring through tall trees overhead.

But it feels not like wind.   It feels like holy power.  Those in the Upper Room and those outside near the Upper Room could sense something had arrived, something that was going to make a difference.

And then there was the appearance.   This coming of the Holy Spirit, coming where He wanted to be, to the witnesses looks like Tongue-Shaped Flames of fire.

WHY FIRE?   Because God’s desire for the people he made is a powerful, intense, burning Love,  to the point where He was willing to be consumed as a Holy Oblation for them.     When He said on the Cross, “I thirst,”  it was not just His physical body speaking, it was the fervent, all-consuming desire of God for the return of allsouls back to Him.   If  His  heart on the Cross were an animated drawing, It would be erupting in Flames of Love.

And now, at Pentecost,  the Holy spirit “connects” Himself to the souls that choose to return to Him.   It is a fervent, actual, very real potentionally powerful connection.  If you choose to follow Christ, this Power is bigger than you are.

When my ancestors accepted this Flame, it changed them from barbarians who spread out to go a-viking into a civilized people who spread out to civilize other parts of the world.        A powerful Spiritual Force indeed.