Here you will read of my struggles upon the World Tree, where the All-Father gave himself up in the pursuit of knowledge, for I have decided to follow him in this quest in the hope that the secrets of the runes might be revealed to me. What is the meaning of the shapes the Wise Ones draw upon the pulp of wood? Why do they hunch so under dim light and forsake completely the warmth of the mead hall for a shivering scholar’s chamber? What is tautology, ontology, UFOlogy, gynecology? Why is the mead bitter and the face of the Learner sour? If I say I love you, must I have a footnote? If I find a cake sublime, must I fear it also? Who sets so many words and yet says so little? Is there magic in this, or is it the work of trolls, a foul business not meant for men? I am but a traveler here upon this tree and cannot say, but I wait for the answers to these and other questions. Join me and together we will find glory.