But no ones or twos.
Or, like this post, half an appreciation of nifty stuff and half a peeve.
The nifty stuff, first:
Medieval Dice with No 1 or 2 Found on Street in Norway. Dice are really old tech, as it were, and crooked dice of one sort or another are almost equally old. When Og and Ugh were casting knucklebones to pass the time in their Paleolithic cave, it probably wasn’t long before Og figured out that if he shaved down one side of his favorite knucklebone just so, he could up his chances of winning by enough to end up the possessor of Ugh’s best flint hand-axe before Ugh caught on.
Now, the peeve:
The article isn’t actually about finding dice. It’s about finding a die, singular. That’s how it goes: One die, two (or more) dice.
It’s a common error, but one expects better of a science blog. I blame LiveScience.com for the error, because when I followed their link to the source article at Norsk institutt for kulturminneforskning, and clicked on their link to get the text in Norsk bokmål, I saw that the caption for the picture of the crooked die used the singular terning, as would be proper, rather than the plural terningen. (The article itself speaks of dice, plural and die, singular, depending upon context.)
One of my favorite folk songs is “Katy Cruel,” a cheerful ditty from the point of view of a young lady who has run completely out of [bleeps] to give:
Our Ms. Cruel comes from a distinguished (or maybe the right word is “notorious”) folkloric lineage.
There’s the Cruel Mother:
And the Cruel Father:
(Sorry, no video link here, just audio on the web page. But he’s cruel, believe me.)
The Cruel Sister:
And the Cruel Brother:
Hell, if I had a family like that, I’d leave town and take to drink, too.
I’ll admit to a certain amount of partisan rooting interest, here, since the No Story Is Sacred crew are, in fact, my own offspring:
Found elsewhere on the web: Winnie-the-Pooh Noir.
Meanwhile, it’s domain-renewal time again for the Doyle and Macdonald web site, where there can be found links to all sorts of things, including sample chapters from most of our novels and a contact link for our agent, plus a lot of other stuff. Donations toward its upkeep – because web hosting doesn’t come for free – can be made via the Buy Me a Coffee link in the sidebar here.
Fantasy writer Jo Walton is running a Kickstarter for Scintillation, a small convention to be held – provided the Kickstarter succeeds — in 2018 in Montreal.
Jo (who deservedly often has Homeric epithets like “acclaimed” and “award-winning” affixed to her name) ran the Farthingparty convention in Montreal from 2006 to 2014, before time-management issues and the stress of worrying every year whether or not the convention would draw enough members to break even brought the run to an end. She’s coming back now with the new Kickstarter model, which she explains in detail on the project page.
I really really want this Kickstarter to succeed. (Yes, I’ve already thrown in my mite, and will throw more as more becomes available.) Farthingparty was the closest convention to where we live,† and I think we made every single one of them, even the one which we had to do as a Saturday day trip because we were moving one of our offspring into their dorm in Boston on Sunday. I’ve missed it ever year since it ended, and having a new convention we could attend in Montreal would be a wonderful thing.
†Yes. We live that far north in New Hampshire.
From the Sibling Cabal’s No Story Is Sacred podcast, this trenchant observation – now with accompanying graphic – is available for purchase on mugs and more at Redbubble.
Romance writer Debra Jess, who’s one of my editorial clients, just won a Maggie Award from the Georgia Romance Writers for her novella, A Secret Rose, which (ahem) I edited.
From one Debra to another – congratulations! (And thanks for the acknowledgement, too.)
Every once in a while, I run across something that makes me wish for a moment that I’d stayed in Academia.† Like this call for papers:
Inside Out: Dress and Identity in the Middle Ages, the 38th Annual Conference at Fordham University’s Center for Medieval Studies.
Not that I’d have anything to present — material culture was never my field — but my word, the papers should be fascinating.
†Not often, though, or for very long. I got out at just about the same time as Academia started devouring its own young.
My offspring, they have a podcast:
No Story is Sacred
It’s up at all the usual places.
(“Art in the blood, Watson . . . .”)