[Exi-east] A scaldic tale, in prose
exi-east at unreasonable.com
Sat Jan 3 03:02:31 UTC 2004
In the days since lost Sasha, Bostropians have gathered infrequently.
Extropians of the Boston region, that is, not followers of Nick
Bostrom. Which we might be as well, but I think one such would be called a
Bostromian, although Bostrompian has more of the flavour of Swift and
brings to mind Modest Proposals.
So we met on Boxing Day, we fellowship of nine, in the grey afternoon of
the north lands. Two of the Wise, Steve Witham and Simon! Levy, from the
First Age of Extropians, had stepped out of primordial time and memory to
lend their counsel. Simon! did not bring his fiddle, as promised, but
other minstrels fretted and plucked.
Unexpectedly, the ranger Lorrey joined our encampment as we sat to our
spicy string beans and skittles. We cheered his fine tales, grateful we'd
provisioned enough food to stoke his mighty girth.
We all concluded that northmen should not be so long apart, and vowed to
bring our clan together with each new moon or, at least, as the season
changes. And extend a greeting to our cousins in the western lands and over
the sea to send word of their travels hither, that we might have further
occasion to feast.
The party main broke after a dozen hours, all but Mike, who remained until
just before dawn, when he slipped into the last traces of frozen night.
-- Your Chronicler.
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