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Icelandic saga writers tell of an ancient viking ritual: the Rite of the Blood Eagle. It is a method of execution in which the back of the victim is carved open, the ribs broken, and the lungs torn out through the wounds to flutter in the breeze like wings. Regardless of whether this act was a pagan demonstration of disdain for Christianity (by creating a corpse mockery of an angel), or simply a myth from mis-interpretations of ancient skaldic verse, last week I wrote a whole essay about it and made my tutorial partners sit through multiple gruesome descriptions. You may infer an analogy for how you, the reader, will relate to this blog, or perhaps you will infer that I couldn't think of a snappy opening post. Either way, welcome to The Voyeuristic Stroller; have a photograph of something morbid.

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