Since he’s most famous for being a Shakespearean villain, this story on the dig for Richard III’s bones would seem to be appropriate in this blog.

A dig under a council car park in Leicester has found remains with spinal abnormalities and a “cleaved-in skull” that suggest it could be Richard III.

The University of Leicester will now test the bones for DNA against descendants of Richard’s family.

Professor Lin Foxhall, head of the university’s School of Archaeology, said: “Archaeology almost never finds named individuals – this is absolutely extraordinary.

“Although we are far from certain yet, it is already astonishing.”

If it is Dick, this will solve at least one of the questions that has made him such a contentious figure in historical circles. As I understand it, the Ricardians (defenders of Richard III) have long insisted that the story that he was a “hunchback” was mostly Tudor propaganda. But if this skeleton shows signs of serious scoliosis, that will… well, it won’t settle anything. But it will be interesting.

Tip: Archaeology in Europe.

I have to apologize in advance for what I’m going to write on the anniversary of the September 11 terrorist attacks.

I’d like to say that the losses are terrible, but they were not in vain, because America found courage in the time of trial to come back and rid the world of a great evil.

But (obviously, I think), that’s not exactly what happened.

There’s been a lot of Monday morning quarterbacking about the War on Terror. I’m now inclined to the view that Afghanistan should have been a short, sharp punitive mission, and then out again. Iraq was the strategically useful war. But maybe that’s just because I haven’t read enough books on the subject from different angles.

It’s good that we punished the perpetrators. It’s good that Osama bin Ladin was killed. I’ve never nitpicked the president over that action, and I don’t plan to start now.

But all my life I’ve evaluated things through the lens of bullying and abuse. Many people think the United States must be the world’s bully, because we’re so rich and powerful.

But that’s not how bullying works. I’ve seen it myself, and I’ll bet you have too. Dominance is not (or not wholly) a matter of size or strength. It’s a matter of how far the various parties are willing to go to get their way. Often a smaller, weaker person can bully a larger, stronger one, because he’s more ruthless and selfish. Continue reading In solemn remembrance →

Caricature Map of Europe 1914 by ~Keithwormwood on deviantART

The artist of this map says it’s “a political caricature map depicting different nations in the alternate world history of the book Leviathan by Scott Westerfeld.” I’ve begun to believe that most of the really good books out there are the ones with maps in the front, and these are just the type of maps I’m talking about.

Here, at last, is the photograph of me that I promised you a few days ago, courtesy of the photographer, Stephan Faerber of Minneapolis.

Aside from being an attractive image of a highly unattractive subject, like those images where photographers get interesting shots out of garbage dumps or decaying buildings through framing, composition, and lighting, this is an unusual photograph in that it shows me smiling. I’ve mentioned before that I generally avoid smiling, because it does no good either for me or for the person on whom I inflict it (P.G. Wodehouse wrote an amusing story on a similar theme). But Faerber seems to be capable of such alchemy, and more power to him.

He gave me permission to use it promotionally, with attribution.

Which is what this post is, I guess.

Two years ago, marketer Todd Rutherford began selling book reviews. Some people complained that reviews could be bought from a service; many others bought reviews from that service. And not just any reviews–gushing, exciting reviews. The NY Times walks us through it:

Consumer reviews are powerful because, unlike old-style advertising and marketing, they offer the illusion of truth. They purport to be testimonials of real people, even though some are bought and sold just like everything else on the commercial Internet.

Mr. Liu (an analyst) estimates that about one-third of all consumer reviews on the Internet are fake. Yet it is all but impossible to tell when reviews were written by the marketers or retailers (or by the authors themselves under pseudonyms), by customers (who might get a deal from a merchant for giving a good score) or by a hired third-party service.

You have heard it said that Abraham Lincoln, Mark Twain, or maybe T.S. Eliot once said, “I would have written a shorter letter, but I did not have the time.” No, apparently Pascal wrote it somewhere and even he may have gotten it from somewhere else. This is one more bit of evidence to support my reluctance to trust unsourced quote databases.

I don’t have any good blogging ideas today, so I’ll share a frustration, because you’re such a good listener.

There’s this picture I really want to show you, but I can’t get access.

The back story goes like this. Last month at Norway Day in Minneapolis, there was this guy hanging around with a great big camera. I’m no expert on photography, but I know the big ones with all the lenses the size of window sash weights generally indicate somebody who makes enough money taking pictures to afford big cameras with lenses the size of window sash weights

He took some pictures, but I barely paid attention to him.

This past weekend, some of us Vikings gathered at our storage location to sort stuff for the trip to Minot, which is coming sooner than I care to admit to myself.

And one of the guys brings out this photographic print, which had been brought to him by that photographer from Norway Day.

It consisted of three black and white head-to-collarbone portraits. Reading left to right, it was me, a fellow named Ron, and Ragnar.

The other guys’ portraits were good, but mine was unbelievable.

I’m in my mail shirt—you can see the top of it—but my helmet is off. My hair is mussed, and I’m smiling.

I’m not sure I’ve ever seen a picture of myself smiling before that looked at all good. I go through life with a serious expression for a reason. But in this picture, my smile looked great. I look like a guy who just won the battle of Maldon (by cheating), and feels pretty good about himself.

In other words, I didn’t look a lot like me, which is excellent.

I took down the photographer’s e-mail address, and contacted him as soon as I got home, hoping for a print at least, and possibly usage rights for promotional purposes.

He has not responded.

I can only assume that he has plans to use my image for his own obscene profit. Women everywhere will wonder who that handsome, mysterious warrior is, and he’ll keep my identity secret, so as not to have to share the proceeds.

Hey, shutterbug, you didn’t build that!

Paul Tripp writes about handling our fears: “Own your fear and run to the only one who can defeat it. Confess that you don’t always remember his presence and glory. Confess those places where you assess situations as if he didn’t exist. Own the fact that you often love your comfort more than you love his glory. Confess that you are sometimes more in awe of people than of him.”

A couple links via Neatorama:

A Japanese company has adopted a radical strategy for success in a world where Japan is rapidly disappearing, as an economic force and as a culture. They do business exclusively in English:

The country has both a dread of English and an understandable attachment to its own ornate business customs. Those idiosyncrasies made Japan a bewildering but envied powerhouse during its economic boom. They now make Japan a poor match, experts say, for global business.

Mikitani took a step few other companies here have dared because, he said, he thought it would help his company expand and thrive. He also wanted to prove a point — that the Japanese, counter to the stereotype, could embrace the risks and embarrassment that come with learning a foreign language.

In another part of the world, a group of masked bandits in armor robbed a French/German Renaissance Faire:

A bunch of people dressed as knights and armed with a sword and an axe forgot to look up the definition of knight. They robbed the organizers of a medieval festival and stole $25,000. Yeah, they’ve apparently been learning knighthood from the likes of Jaime Lannister.

They needed this Englishman (not from Neatorama)–a man who has lived out the not-so-secret fantasy of every historical reenactor:

A Civil War re-enactment enthusiast used the battle skills he learned playing a Cavalier to disarm a knife-wielding robber.

Alf Thompson, 60, sprang into action when the thug threatened to slash a shop assistant’s throat.

Mr Thompson, a member of the Sealed Knot, grabbed the robber’s hand and dragged him over the shop counter.

The grandfather wrenched the knife from the man’s hand and then pinned him to the counter while the shopkeeper dialled 999.

During the brawl, the masked robber drew a second knife – but Mr Thompson disarmed him again before pinning him to the floor and waiting for police.

Someday you’ll read about me doing something similar.

The story will be accompanied by my death notice, of course.

It will be worth it.