Ben Domenech describes how Steve Jobs embodies the American Dream.

The essence of American optimism is founded in a belief that the world we pass on can exceed the one we inherited. We are not prisoners of an all-encompassing destiny, and neither are our children. This is not a uniquely American inclination, mind you, but a human one – but not all cultures acknowledge or honor it. It was here in America where such an experience was uniquely understood from our inception in our creed. We create, as we were created, and know all who are created have worth. So they have an equal claim to life, to liberty, and to the pursuit.

Courtesy of Furious D, here’s a little film trailer for a low-budget production of H. P. Lovecraft’s “The Whisperer In Darkness.”

Honestly, isn’t that a great trailer? Aren’t you interested in seeing this movie?

I know I am, and–here’s the thing–I hate H. P. Lovecraft’s body of work. All that nihilism, and the whole the-universe-is-more-horrifying-than-you-can-imagine Cthulhu Mythos, is to me not only depressing and demoralizing, but full-out blasphemous.

But this trailer is irresistable. The people who made it (and, we assume, the film) are having so much fun, first in telling a story they enjoy, and then in re-creating the whole atmosphere of a 1930s horror film, that all their love shines through (which is ironic when you’re dealing with Lovecraft material).

Bravo.

And so the 2011 Norsk Høstfest is over. I got home yesterday night, exhausted as usual, though this one was actually less strenuous than most. Crowds were noticeably smaller, though the attendees had money to spend and the venders did fine. Personally, smaller crowds don’t bother me a bit.

No pictures, I’m afraid. Brought my camera, but never used it.

Much of the relative easiness was because we had two teenage boys to help with the sword fighting, so I only had to do a couple fights per show. Gradually I got used enough to the battle axe to do some crowd-pleasing shield hewing, but my victory tally stands at one. (I think I’d have won more if one of my teenage opponents had understood what constitutes a “hit” in axe fighting. We do not allow chopping at bodies with axes. That would be… irresponsible.)

Had an interesting encounter the last day. A young man came to me and asked if I knew much about Norwegian folklore. I said I probably knew as much as anybody in the group. Then he asked me about an idea about trolls that had been expressed to him by one of the festival vendors. I said I didn’t know where that person had gotten such an idea. I’d never encountered it, either in the myths or the folk tales.

The young man’s response was odd. He asked me if there were anybody else in the group who would know. I found this irritating. It sounded as if he was just looking for someone to reinforce his opinion. I referred him to Ragnar, who (oddly enough) referred him back to me to buy my books. He bought all three that I had for sale—or rather his mother, who seemed to be attending him, bought them for him.

Then I figured out what the problem was—or at least made my guess. I suspect the young man has Asperger’s, and I just wasn’t speaking his language. When I said I didn’t know where the idea came from, he took me to mean I knew nothing about the subject.

I fear he won’t make much of my books if that’s his problem.

Which makes me feel a little guilty, though when I think about it, it’s not my job to tell people whether they qualify to buy my books or not. (Except for small children. I generally don’t sell them to children.)

Final observation—I don’t much like Country music, but I never get tired of “Ghost Riders In the Sky.”