Tetherd Cow Ahead

In my collection of newspaper clippings I have this small snippet from a couple of years back:

Just Do What the Chicken Says

Police are hunting a robber who held up a shop at gunpoint dressed as a giant chicken. The wanted man walked into the grocery store in Columbus, Ohio, in the yellow costume and demanded cash from the safe.

“We have guys with fake moustaches now and again but never anything like this,” a Columbus police spokesman said. “The person obviously has some kind of access to a chicken suit, or possibly even owns a chicken suit,” he told local television. “So if you know of someone, please call the robbery squad.”

The man fled on his giant orange feet but was not pursued. He faces several charges, including robbery, aggravated menacing and intimidation.

There are several points of interest here. First, note the perspicacity of the Columbus police: “The person obviously has some kind of access to a chicken suit, or possibly even owns a chicken suit”.

Yep. That would be a fair bet.

And even though I am the first to acknowledge the brilliant audacity of Chicken Man’s plan, I can’t help but question the wisdom of wearing ‘giant orange feet’ whilst making the getaway. Surely he could have just double-parked the Chickenmobile outside the joint?

Then there is the issue of ‘aggravated menacing’. A man in a chicken suit could attract many different adjectives but menacing doesn’t spring readily to mind.

I got to wondering about Chicken Man and whether CSI might have turned up something on the scene with their fancy fluorescent lights, so I did a search. Well waddya know? Looks like he’s been busted. News Channel 5 has the dirt.

We all know how it will turn out, right? They throw him in the coop (probably Alcatraz), where bottled-up rage and frustration work on his bird brain, rendering him insane. Then, exposure to some radioactive compound in the prison laundry mutates and amplifies his avian powers until… oh, need I go on?

Well, faithful Cow-o-philes. Yesterday morning, as promised, I arose at the rooster’s crow and headed off to Sydney’s National Maritime Museum in search of Vikings. I arrived in plenty of time, not really being sure if Vikings are known for their punctuality. I think it is probably reasonable to suggest that being late for a raid on a Saxon village was poor form.

Indeed, there was already a horde of Vikings in full battle dress battering at the door when I got there. Well, I exaggerate for effect. There were one or two insouciant proto-Vikings hanging around the door with their friends. Aside from the beards and long hair there wasn’t much to indicate they were Vikings. I’ve seen scarier at my local pub. It was a bit anti-climactic I have to say. Before I even got a chance to ask them about their references they were ushered inside by museum staff.

I don’t remember ever being taught about the Vikings’ penchant for bright blue duffel bags in school, but I guess I could have been shooting rubber bands at Chris O’Reilly at the time.

There was a brief interesting moment when one of the Vikings carried in a strange wooden box:

Then it was all over. I’m sorry to say, that’s all that happened. I guess it is feasible that the armed naked dancing went on behind the closed museum doors, but alas, that remains only a speculation. Oh, as I was about to leave, I noticed another Viking unpacking something from his car:

He wasn’t exactly a late Viking, since the other Vikings were all technically early but I got the distinct impression that if there was any pillaging and looting going on inside the museum, he was in for slim pickings.

I did find out that the Viking exhibition starts in November and today’s successful applicants would be featuring for a few weeks. It is my further mission then, loyal readers, to go along once the show has opened and this time bring back proper evidence of Vikings alive and well (and hopefully armed and attired in full ferocity) in the Antipodes.

Nurse Myra took great delight in bringing to my attention this Wanted ad from Saturday’s Sydney Morning Herald. It reads:

Wanted

Viking Warriors

Calling all Erik the Reds, Odins, Thors and Beowulfs. Several ‘Viking warriors’ required for two weeks work. Authentic Viking appearance and extensive knowledge of Viking culture preferred. Must have own complete Viking costume including arms and armour. Historical re-enactment experience preferred.

Auditions 9.30 am Friday 28 October 2005.
Australian National Maritime Museum, Darling Harbour. Applicants requested to be in full costume. Please bring references.

Valhalla Awaits. Beserkers† need not apply.

I don’t know what thrills me the most: that applicants must arrive in full costume, or that they are expected to bring references!

Man, I really want to read those references. I imagine a typical one would go something like this:

To Whom it May Concern

Thangbrand Breiðskeggr has manned an oar in my longship for six months and I have found him to be a fine and upstanding fellow, if somewhat strongly smelling. His raping and pillaging skills are eclipsed only by his capacity for quaffing prodigous quantities of ale and his proficiency at knatteleik.

I think I can say that most of us here on the Mjöksiglandi Spörr will be sad to see Thangbrand go, but Odin knows that he is destined for bigger and better things.

I wish him every success in his future endeavours and I am sure that if he can control his temper and avoid further beheadings of his co-workers he will be a valuable addition to any workplace that will have him.

Yours &c
Erik Breiðrböllr

Dedicated readers of The Cow will have by now realised where I’m heading with all this. A bunch of Vikings turning up at the Maritime Museum in costume on Friday, and me with time on my hands as of Wednesday… Yes, that’s right, not only do you get to read about it but I’m going to go get you some pictures.

I was especially motivated when I read the following description of Viking dances on Regia Anglorum:

“Several sources mention warriors performing acrobatic dances (often naked), whilst wielding weapons, usually in connection with the cult of Odin.”

I don’t know about you, but when I imagine yer typical Viking performing an acrobatic dance, fully armed and naked my brain has a sort of vodka-and-curdled-yoghurt-through-the-nose hysterical spasm.

Oh please let these guys on Friday be really dedicated.

†Tsk. You’d think that someone would check an unfamiliar word like ‘berserker’ before cavalierly whacking a spelling error up for all the world to see. Especially when they’re appealing to people with extensive knowledge of Viking culture…

I clipped this article from a newspaper a little while ago. It reads:

London: Divers undertaking routine maintenance work in a British harbour discovered a giant lobster standing guard over a barnacle-encrusted watch. The 60 centimetre lobster, which is thought to be more than 30 years old, was spotted by members of a diving club in Blyth Harbour, Northumberland.

On closer inspection they were amazed to find that the ancient crustacean appeared to be guarding a wristwatch. On their return to the surface the divers discovered that the watch – a Citizen Pulsar believed to have been underwater for at least three years – was still telling the time accurately to within a few seconds.

Moral: It doesn’t matter how carefully you look after the thing you love most, you probably won’t be able to stop some bastard from taking it away from you. And time still marches on.