In two new collections of Icelandic and Swedish fiction, Norse legends and pagan surrealists wrestle with modernity. As Will McDonald writes, the result is an industrialized present nevertheless touched by the arcane.
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@heygurisingh Frankly, $300 is nothing. I’ve spent $15,000 in the last month on AI consultants I reply to on LinkedIn. It’s the best money I’ve ever spent and I plan to earn it all back babysitting.
@PerryALPHA “I am only taking what is rightfully mine,” she says as she looks upon the massive throne of children’s skulls. “I am Daenerys Pelosi, Mother of Pedophiles!”
The Libsguard take their knee.
@InezFeltscher “Your husband served honorably in the war,” the leftist bureaucrat says. “But his thesis on The Costco Guys was improperly inclusive of Mother and Ashley.”
She cries tears of rage, unable to stop the force of her grip as it crushes the vape in her hand.
@Cernovich “And to you, Mx. Ocasio-Cortez-Rothschild, I award you the Order of Goober.”
She is graceful in her honor (like Padme in the prequels).
“Thank you, Commandante Walz.”
They smile. The empire is in order. Or so they think…
@KevinPosobiec @CMDROpAtLargeCA The night is calm. A junior agent offers Bovino a cigarette. It’s a Lucky Strike, the kind his father smoked. He looks into the cold, Minneapolis sky.
“They may have won the battle,” Bovino says, “but we will win the next battle.”
🫡