PZ mocks the elves - he has doomed himself.
The elves will not be mocked.
Elf festival for summer solstice
Ok folks, so Iceland adopted christianity from Europe, peacfully, by democratic vote, intellectual debate, possibly a touch of bribery, and the threat of invasion and conversion by force;
we took on the monetarist deregulation superstition from the US, and paid the price;
we even let our children watch Disney's corruption of the classic myths.
Through it all we've been remarkably tolerant, pluralistic, forbearing and understanding.
But now PZ, in his zeal, has challenged the essence of our being, the question of the elves.
Well, of course they are there, look:
This is the elf home southwest of Reykjavík.
If you look carefully, the road takes a slight swerve and narrows as you pass it.
In the '30s, Álfhólsvegur was laid to the then outlying village.
When they got to this point, they were due to dynamite the rock, but the funds for the road ran out...
A decade later, the roadwork resumed but the machinery broke and tools disappeared, until the workmen decided to reroute the road around the rock.
At the end of the '80s the road was refurbished, and asphalt laid, and the road was to be straightened, but the drillbits broke.
So, the road layout was changed, curved around the rock again, and narrowed to control speed.
Then all was well.
There was a development permit there as well - lot 102 - which abutted the outcrop, but the owner surrendered the development permit and the lot is now protected, along with the rock itself.
See, you don't fuck with the elves.
Now, you might argue this is rural superstition, but in town, Reykjavík itself, there are five formally protected elfhomes:
Árm´laskóli - the belt of rock and sloping hill northeast of the school along with an outlying rock are left undisturbed. Two hills and three rock outcrops are listed on the antiques registry and protected from development by town ordinance.
Grásteinn - on the road out to the President's residence.
A few years ago Icelandair provided a seat (saga class of course) for an elf that needed to get to the west-Iceland settlement in Canada - affairs of the heart, dontcha know, and, no, I don't know why he didn't just teleport or fly or something, maybe feeling a bit under the weather.
Björk sings of the "Elf in the Hill"...
Classic.
Strangely familiar, eerie.
Now, you might argue this is all superstition and nonsense, and you would be right;
but then you would also miss the adaptive utility of it all
- ignoring the propensity of fevered and frightened imaginations on dark stormy nights to invent hidden humanoids with mystical superpowers, who are more handsome, richer and stronger than us, there is utility in getting superstitious unscientific populations in leaving certain areas near built up areas protected, or to avoid pushing developments into superficially attractive spots that are historically vulnerable to disaster - like the curious propensity of elf glens to be on historic avalanche tracks.
Or there is the imperative to be nice and gentlemanly to strange beautiful women you might meet, 'cause you know if you betray an elf woman she'll curse you and turn you into a bad tempered whale, which then comes to a bad end, up a mountain...
Just consider the tale of the temptation of St Ólafur, or have they forgotten it in Minnesota?
Oh, and it brings tourists.
Mock all you want (actually it is kinda funny), just don't try to mess with the rocks.
Ok?
'cause bad things happen when you mess with the rocks.
And if you piss the elves off, they can deal with you themselves, you know, being magical with superpowers and all that.
'course most of the time they're above such quibbles and petty human things, you'd have to have caught one in a really bad mood for them to actually, you know, mess with you.
But, hey, why take the chance... (yes Pascal's influence has reached Iceland).
As for Magnús and his "school"
Poor chap thought he had photographed elves...
as if!
Guy doesn't know his classics, obviously, sooooooo 19th century.
Like Icelandic elves would be some kinda half-assed tinkerbells?
I blame Disney.
And the elves, they're obviously messin' with him. He probably tried to move the wrong rock, or ran past an elfhill and taunted them...
Don't worry, the Bishop of Iceland has condemned him for superstition... you're in good company.
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