by Rudyard Kipling It was not part of their blood, It came to them very late, With long arrears to make good, When the Saxon began to hate. They were not easily
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It is with heavy heart that we report that our good friend and MOTW Poet Laureate, Ian McLeod, has passed away. He was too young, and he will be dearly missed. Offer
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There are two great classes among writers: those who are echoes and those who are voices.
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For him Februaries came in two flavors: and the savory one he’d only tasted once. Food, like most Februaries, like this one, tasted like ash by that point. A heart is a
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Editor’s Note: Make sure to check out the other posts at The Last Redoubt I’ve gotten copies of Thune’s Vision and Shagduk from the two respective Pilum Press Kickstarters, and oddly, it turns out you can now even
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Editor’s Note: Den Blonde Ulven shares a book review. Stalin’s War is a book authored by Sean McMeekin. It is a revisionist’s history of World War II which makes a convincing case
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I wish I might become like one of these
Who, in the night on horses wild astride,
With torches flaming out like loosened hair
On to the chase through the great swift wind ride.
Said England unto Pharaoh, ‘I must make a man of you,
That will stand upon his feet and play the game;
That will Maxim his oppressor as a Christian ought to do,’
Editor’s note: The following is extracted from Hills and the Sea, by Hilaire Belloc (published 1906). The town of Wisbeach is very like the town of Boston. It stands upon a river
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Editor’s Note: We are happy to present a narrative by Den Blonde Ulven I recently took off a few weeks from MMA training, in which time I remained rather unkempt- unshaven, complete
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