YSaC, Vol. 971: I’m not making this up, you know!*
Opera time!
For those of you who are opera novices, a good place to start would be Mozart’s “The Marriage of Figaro.” The plot is entertaining, it’s not too long, the tunes are pretty and you’ve probably even heard one or two of them before. (Yes, that IS a woman in drag. The part was originally written to be played by a castrato, which means what you think it does, and so things have to be fudged a bit in modern productions.)
After that, you can move up to some of the Italian classics like Verdi or Puccini. They feature hummable melodies, moving plots, and expect you to believe that a three hundred pound woman who has been bellowing at the top of her lungs in Italian for three hours is wasting away.
Only when you are thoroughly prepared should you approach probably the most complex operas, those written by Robert Wagner. In between episodes of “Hart to Hart,” Wagner managed to pen a seventeen hour long opera cycle involving giants, dwarves, naiads, dragons, Valkyries, spears, magic helmets, and three kinds of real cheese.
At one point, the hero of the cycle, Siegfried, successively falls in with Brunhilde (his aunt), the remaining Valkyries (also his aunts), and a couple of Norns. (guess) With all of these aunts around, where is he to keep them?
Tall Oak jewelry armoire full of great aunts
dont know much about this but i have had someone come look and they say that alot of people collect this vintage jewelry. all kinds of jewelry this box is loaded with goddy jewelry.. lots of rhintestone and jewelry that has some markings. please call theo at #########
I think that any ring forged from gold stolen from river spirits and contested over generations by the king of the Norse gods, his various more-or-less incestuous progeny, giants, dragons, and at this point, the Cirque de Soleil definitely constitutes “Goddy Jewelry,” don’t you?
Thanks for the link, Nichol!
*note: I may have actually made parts of this up.
Which part does Stephanie Powers sing? And which ring does she wear?
Also possibly awesome: the seller’s name is Theo, which is a prefix indicating deity. Nice.
I bet that jewelry is high and mighty
I hate it when jewelry gets all high and mighty on me. The worst is my mom’s earrings. When they get high and mighty, they start singing gospel.
She didn’t make it out of previews. Her interpretation just wasn’t working and she was replaced by Bugs Bunny.
I found Elmer Fudd’s performance to be much more compelling. I really felt he needed to “kill da wabbit”
They spelled armoire right
And they knew that the Alot of people collects vintage jewelry.
Not just anyone knows the collection habits of the Alot of people.
Soylent GreenAlot is made of people!I hear that Alot
Speaking of which, there’s a new Hyperbole and a Half today.
I already read it and enjoyed it. I love the simple dog. I wish I saw random neon colored geometric shapes everywhere. I think my neighbor has a simple dog with similar perceptions of the world. The only issue is that it is a rottweiler and thus big and scary looking.
Yes, finally! I’ve been checking periodically about once a week or so but no luck. She’s been getting a lot longer between posts, but they’re always worth the wait.
Er, that is to say, the frequency of her posts has been decreasing, not that she has been physically becoming elongated in the interim. Which would be kind of funny.
SQUEEEE!!!
I can believe that Alots like jewelry. I can just imagine an Alot wearing a nice pair of hoop earrings.
I wonder if the Alot of family ever met the Alot of jewelry. I’m sure they’d hit it off right away!
You know, I have to get rid of one soon, and, of course, I’m going to list it on CL. God forbid I do it in a hurry, and late at night and misspell it….
Rest assured, BD, we be watchin’ for it.
When wilt Thou sell the jewelry?
O God of great aunts, when?
Safe in a tall oak armoire,
Vintage, but loved again.
That was quite goddy.
I’ll be humming that for a spell now, Dave. 8)
Back later, off to watch Gaud(y)spell so that I’ll have something additional to hum.
Turn baaaaaaaaaack, old aunty;
Foreswear thy foolish armoires!
Old now is goddy jewelry,
And none may count her great rhintestones!
BAAAAAAAH..DAHH..DA…DA…DUM
(why yes I did perform this solo in God(dy)spell, why do you ask?)
I now have an earworm and I am singing the words you guys are supplying instead of the real ones.
You are the ring of the world
you are the ring of the wooorld
but if that ring is in an armoire
it can’t be something something
you’ve got to stay polished to be the ring of the world
Stupid armoire rhyme and limited editing time
so now I go and rhyme.
That.Was.Awesome.
Rhintestone: The chemical exuded by cheap jewelry that makes old ladies grow facial hair.
Or excessive nose hair.
Please let those markings be lion stripes. That would make my day.
No, silly, the markings are obviously auntie stains.
Michael Caine does though (know ALot of people)
[corey] in UK standard joke about MC is that he constantly says “not a lot of people know that … ” [corey]
sorry – my mac put this in the wrong place …should be earlier in the list of snarks. mea culpa and mea ignoramus technology interweb thingy
Wow, honestly.. that was a long setup for that ad.
But well done!
I’m waiting for my U.N.C.L.E. cabinet, tho.
Didn’t the man from U.N.C.L.E. contact you? The cabinet is on backorder.
I had to settle for a Mission-Impossible-style cabinet instead.
T.H.R.U.S.H. destroyed the purchase order.
ewww, you had thrush?
Yeah, those little birds will peck anything and ruin it.
Well, given that one of the men from UNCLE is on NCIS, does that mean that Napolitan Solo (obligatory “He shot first”) is now in Narnia . . . ?
Capn, that’s one hell of a crossover, and could lead to dangerous slash ideas.
Only if you are interested in a reverse mortgage late at night
I’ve been wondering where my great aunt could have gotten to.
My aunts weren’t so great, so they can stay in the cabinet.
Since I am pretty sure neither of mine would ever read this page, I am with you Windy. They would both be much more enjoyable in an armoire. Actually they would probably kill each other.
That might be an ending the rest of us would enjoy.
I’ll get me coat.
“The thing’s hollow—it goes on forever—and—oh my Goddy—it’s full of Aunts!”
A quote from “The Not-a-Lion, the Witch, and the Tall Oak Jewelry Armoire”?
“2011: A Spark Oddity”
Auntie, Auntie, trapped in the oak armoire,
Full of rhintestone, goddier than a star…
He’s putting an ad on Craigslist,
But there’s going to be a strange twist…
Please call Theo,
‘Cause he don’t know,
A damn thing about jewelry…
*computer brain shuts down*
“No, Ham, I cannot open the Pod Bay Door.”
Damn you Fenrir!
*Shakes fist*
The aunts go marching one by one Hurrah, Hurrah!
The aunts go marching one by one Hurrah, HURRAH!
The aunts go marching one by one,
The oldests puts her hair in a bun,
And They all go marching into the oak armoire
To adjust their grey wigs, BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The aunts go marching two by two Hurrah, Hurrah!
The aunts go marching two by two Hurrah, HURRAH!
The aunts go marching two by two,
Aunt Mildred makes her dumpling stew,
And they all go marching into the oak armoire
To find their yappy dog, BOOM BOOM BOOM!
The aunts go marching three by three, Hurrah, Hurrah!
The aunts go marching three by three, Hurrah, HURRAH!
The aunts go marching three by three,
Aunt Betty smells a bit like pee,
And they all go marching into the oak armoire
To crochet their bobble hats! BOOM BOOM BOOM!
EVERYBODY NOW!
It’s posts like this that remind me to get on my high horse about the fact that us Native Invaders (New Englanders) pronounce the word aunt properly and the rest of you unwashed masses confuse it with the name of an insect.
That sounded kind of high and mighty…..pronounced like you have a pipe stuck up your nose….AAHHHHHntee…
🙂
IF, your new name is “Captain Buzzkill.”
Oooh boy, I always wanted to be a Captain! Who gets to be my Tennille?
Also, Captain Buzzkill is the name of my side business as an exterminator.
I shall be your Tennille
Well played, Sir Sparklington. Well played, indeed.
Actually, it’s still totally singable as Taco wrote it even when it doesn’t rhyme with an insect. Try it!
*ahem*
You mean ‘the rest of you AMERICAN unwashed masses’. Those of us of an Antipodean, European, Grand Britannic or other assorted colonial tendency also pronounce the word correctly, thankyouverymuch.
America =/= the world.
And thank goodness we don’t. There’s quite enough to worry about just in this country alone.
*discovers flask is empty*
But we were also a (mostly) British colony, once upon a time.
Well, we ARE trying our best to make it so, one invasion at a time…
We were the naughty child.
Yeah, I heard as how you guys have hills full of cannabilistic mutants, an entire state full of Oompa Loompas (who lure your kids to their lairs and then turn ’em into chocolate!) and an eeeebil overlord who keeps trying to give people free healthcare.
*Fills up flask. Steals flask*
As a Canadian, still technically a British colony, I pronounce it like the insect, and will continue to do so for as long as I live in this hill.
Today’s box entrants are brought to you by the letter L and the number 2. 8)
High five, Lola!
High five!
*misses*
Yeah, I’m a dork like that.
*Walks through door only to be hit by Lola smack dab in the forehead.*
Wow, thanks. I wouldn’t expect any other welcome back. Now I feel at home again.
If you hear a ringing in your ears that’s just the TacoThong.
Do not look towards the jingling noise!
*passes flask and ice for injury to Meredith*
PUBLIC NOTICE
Please do not number 2 in the box. There is a toilet for that. In the event that said appliance is clogged with jingly panties, the attendant will distribute shrubs.
One is inclined to point to the Victorian Poetry Reading Room of this http://www.ibras.dk/montypython/episode41.htm
This link is just for Sister Lyle, no one else click on it!
Unless, of course, you wish to.
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gFwgblszf6s
I didn’t see it until just now! I haven’t been feeling well so my snark-o-meter was low. That is awesome! My little zoological bones are a quiver with amusement!
Ack! Clever post except that the clip is from _Marriage of Figaro_, not _Magic Flute_!
(Though you are right about _Flute_ being a good first opera. Check out Bergman’s version done for Swedish TV).
Another that I’d recommend for first-timers is Strauss’ “Die Fledermaus”. It’s cute, it’s a short three-act operetta, and you can also sometimes find it being performed in a literal English translation of the original German.
I must be weird in this regard. I only like the operas where everyone dies.
Preferably, early in the first act.
I’m the opposite. Whether it be opera, movies, books, tv, whatever, my first question upon getting a recommendation is, “Does anybody DIE in this?”. Holdover from being raised by a mother who thought that things with tragic endings had “meaning”. I’m scarred.
I bet you love Hamlet!
He did say he was making some of the stuff up. (I just don’t think that was supposed to be part of it.)
I think it’s alright to make stuff up about opera. Its kind of like when you watch telemundo and make up words for the soap opera characters to say.
My Spanish is, despite efforts, utter mierda, so I tend to make things up, too, whilst watching novelas. I have a good friend who did/sometimes still does telenovela acting and sitting with him is the best way to watch of all – he’ll tell you what they are saying, the backstory, and gossip about the actors, particularly if he’s worked with them.
I’ve been trying to read Les Liaisons Dangereuses, en francais. Sometimes I get tired of looking up words and just make stuff up in context. At least I know the story from when I was younger and apparently thought Cruel Intentions was worth watching multiple times…
Speaking of Cruel Intentions:
*Jingly Jingly Jingly*
*Runs away*
*JINGLY Jingly Jingly jingly…*
My Spanish being rather less than your French, I’ve been doing the same with the first Harry Potter, since it’s simple and I know what’s going on and can figure it out from context. Still, if I don’t have a dictionary to hand, I’ll either make stuff up or get a headache (or skim before I realize I’m not really paying attention).
“Harry and Ron do WHAT NOW?”.
Welcome back, Meredith!!!
Hi Meredith!
*Jingly Jingly*
Oh, crap – you’re right, of course.
Aunty Em, Aunty Em! I just had the strangest dream! I was in this armoire full of gaudy jewelry. And you were there! And Aunty Amelia, and Aunty Beatrice, and Aunty Claudette, and Aundy Darleen, and Aunty Francesca!
Sis, did you click the link I found just for you? It’s up there somewhere.
http://www.yousuckatcraigslist.com/?p=6477#comment-103965
There ya go, Windy.
Thanks, GC. Did anyone click the link? The link in the post in your link.
It’s an armoire of Ents, not Aunts. That’s why it’s tall oak jewelry!
“Auntimatter Containment”
“It was February at the Noodle Damage Club.” Spat said.
“No, it was January at Rorschach’s Bar & Grill,” Breema retorted.
Spat and his wife had been talking about their relatives and how they first met, which had inevitably led to reminiscing about how he had met her, an event he realized unexpectedly that they remembered differently.
“No,” Spat replied. “I’m quite sure of it, it was February at the Noodle Damage Club. I remember because I’d been going there for some time and hadn’t seen you there before. You brought me a ground bear burger and a Jersey Water Beer, then I started hitting on you.”
Breema shook he head. “You didn’t see me there before because I’d just quit my job at Rorschach’s and started working there. We had met the month before at the grill. You ordered a big plate of fries and gravy topped with custard.”
“What?” Spat exclaimed. “I’d never order something like that, that’s disgusting!”
“You were drunk.”
It was Spat’s turn to shake his head. “Even drunk I’d never order that.”
“You were really drunk. You told me I was pretty, tried to pay with your metro pass, then wrote your phone number on the back of your hand and tried to stuff it in my apron.”
“No, I didn’t!” Spat was flustered. “I’ve never been that drunk in my life.”
“You said you finished the last half of a bottle of tequila. Then you ate the worm, which you liked so much you asked if they sold plates of just the tequila worms, and when they told you they didn’t, you said you left to come here, where you asked me if we sold the same thing, and when I said we didn’t you made this cute little disappointed moan and ordered the fries and custard.”
Spat shook his head vehemently. “I absolutely did not!”
“Did.”
“Didn’t!”
“Definitely did.”
“Did not!”
“Fine,” Breema finally said. “Go ask aunt Alice. She was the one who made your fries.”
“Fine, then, I will.”
Spat was just as stubborn as his wife, which was what both attracted him to, and frustrated him about her sometimes, but on this point he was certain. Whomever that man was Breema had served that revolting meal to may have looked like him, but it most certainly was not him. He didn’t even like tequila, much less alcohol-soaked worms. The very thought made him gag a little as he made his way up the stairs of his house to settle this.
He walked into the guest room which was furnished with a bed, a full-length mirror, and three chests-of-drawers. He walked over to the dresser beside the window and opened the top drawer.
“Spat!” his uncle said as he popped out of the drawer. “What, you never call, you never write? When are you going to let me out to visit?”
Whoops. Wrong drawer. “Sorry, uncle Mustard. I was looking for aunt Alice.”
“Oh, sure,” Uncle Mustard said sarcastically. “Everybody comes to see Aunt Alice, never your poor uncle Mustard. You know, my feet get cold from being so close to the window — but fine, I’ll just lay back down here until you’re ready to grace me with a proper visit.”
“I’m sorry, uncle, we’ll visit soon, I’m kind of in the middle of an argument that only aunt Alice can settle.”
“Fine, fine, you go have fun with aunt Alice, I’ll just be here quietly waiting. And shivering.”
Spat sighed as his uncle lay back down to let him close the drawer. Second from the top, he remembered. Sure enough, aunt Alice popped out.
“Spat, my nehpew!” she enthused. “Oh, it’s good to see you again, how long has it been? What, two, three months? Spatty boy, you need to visit more often, we miss you!”
“Thanks, aunt Alice,” Spad said, trying to assuage the incoming guilt. “It’s nice to see you too, but we had you down for dinner two weeks ago. Remember? We played Checkers with Ritz Bits.”
“Oh, well,” Alice said. “It seems like so much longer, what we being cooped up in this little drawer. You should get us some armoires or something, much more spacious.”
“We’re looking into it,” Spat replied. “Hey, look, Breema and I are having a little argument that I hope you can solve for us.”
“Oy, you two, always arguing about something. I swear sometimes I think the only things keeping you two together are the things you think the other is wrong about but can’t prove yet. So, what is it this time?”
“Well,” Spat began. “We were talking about how our relatives first met, which led to how we first met. I happen to know that we met at the Noodle Damage Club in February of 1998, but she insists we met at Rorschach’s Bar & Grill where you two worked in January. Who’s right?”
“Oh, honey,” Alice said, amused. “You’re both right — and you’re both wrong.”
“Wait, what?” Spat said, confused.
“Oh, you two did connect at the grill, I remember that. Custard on fries! I’d never heard of such a thing, but you ate it all! You were so drunk and I felt so bad I drove you home, stopping halfway so you could throw up at the side of the road. I also remember Breema telling me about how you hit on her at the club — that’s when she finally relented and agreed to go out with you. But the first time you two met? It was at some Christmas party in December of 1997. I don’t know whose it was, but you both must have known someone there because you were both at it. The both of you got so drunk you switched clothes, only you couldn’t figure out how to put on her dress or bra in your state, so when she called me to pick her up to drive her home you were sloppily following her around like a lost, stoned dog wearing only her panties. It was shameful! But I would have felt bad if I left you there tottering on the sidewalk half naked, so I drove you both home.”
The revelation was a little shocking. Spat simply didn’t drink to such excess, and here it was revealed that he did so not once, but twice. However, he supposed it was possible that he got drunk enough that his restraint and reason went far enough out the window that he ended up going full drunkard to the point that he lost his memories of the night before. Which was probably just as well given the situations it seemed to get him in. Thanks, aunt Alice.”
“Don’t be a stranger, now! I expect another visit soon!” Alice said as she ducked back into the drawer.
So Spat was wrong. He hated being wrong. It did explain the fur-fringed red velvet panties he found on his living room floor that hungover December morning, however. He had always wondered about those, as he didn’t remember having a woman over who was wearing them, nor did he remember buying them. Nevertheless, the important take away from this was that Breema was also wrong, and that made him feel better about his own wrongness.
Spat padded back down the stairs. “So,” Spat said to Breema. “Apparently we’re both wrong.”
“Wait, what?” Breema said, surprised.
“Yeah, that’s what I said. But apparently we met even earlier. December ’97, Christmas party. We were both hammered. Aunt Alice drove us home.”
Breema’s eyes looked skyward as she tried to recall the event. “Huh … yeah, I think I remember that. Cheeba’s party. I don’t remember you being there though — but then that night is pretty hazy.”
“We swapped clothes.” Spat said matter-of-factly.
“What?” Breema exclaimed.
“Somehow I ended up in your panties and nothing else.”
“Oh, God,” Breema blushed. “That’s embarrassing. I’m glad I don’t remember that.”
“You and be both,” Spat agreed.
“So then we were both wrong,” Breema said.
“It would appear that way, yes. I don’t know how we kept bumping into each other — or I guess I kept bumping into you, but under the circumstances I’d almost believe it was fate.”
Breema smiled a little. “Funny, that. Maybe you kept seeking me out unconsciously.”
“Or barely consciously,” Spat quipped. “By the way, uncle Mustard says hi.”
*Dons the TacoThong*
I approve of this story!
*Jingly Jingly Jingly*
Oh no. When did we add bells to the TacoThong?
Windy started it with her reply to my rather transparent April fools prank.
Ah. I thought maybe it was something from Christmas. That’s probably just because VS actually DID have underwear (not a thong though) with bells on it for Christmas.
The good thing about there being bells on the thong is that you can always tell when Taco is…
I’ll be in the corner.
I think that should have been “Ewe and Bee, both.”
Cruddles. You are correct, of course, that this was a mixed ovid-apian marriage as you so astutely interpreted, and that was an unfortunate double typo. I can only blame it on my fingers, which are sore from having accidentally slammed them in the dresser where I was visiting my grandfather.
I also liked “nehpew”. I assumed it was an comment about Spat’s olfactory malfeasance…
How, exactly, does one enthuse?
Doh! And ScribeFire didn’t even underline “nehpew,” and my (admittedly poor) proofreading skills didn’t pick it up either.
Also, “enthuse” is a perfectly cromulent word. It is the root verb from which one enthuses or had previously enthused, which is the act of expressing something with enthusiasm, I enthused enthusiastically.
I enthuse frequently, usually over things that my grandsons have done. It’s less ooky now that they’re in middle school though… less bug/bug guts involvement. They’re more into which girl is crushing on which brother now since they’re two years apart.
Anna Russell lives!
Ha! What a randomly perfect opportunity to present you all with the YouTube video of my most recent choir concert, in which I have a solo in the Les Mis Medley! I sing “Castle on a Cloud”; I think the medley starts about 20 minutes into the show…if you were to skip ahead and just watch me instead of watching the whole thing (which is quite entertaining but it requires an hour and a half of your time).
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=MyuvHHc52cM
The reason it’s perfect is because the whole point of the show was to do funny numbers, mostly from musicals and comic operas and the like. Except for Les Mis, we weren’t exactly funny with that. I’m still not sure how that got in there, but whatever, I got a solo out of it. 🙂
beautiful
Aw, thanks! 🙂
Sorry Sparks, no sale.
Too much rhintestone makes me go bald.
Brumhilde wild Valkyrie
deep in protected slumber of fire ring
to lay guard upon thee as ye be prize
ay to he of valor in strength to surpass
ardent barrier of Loge
nay cowardice to flee in plight
as being undeserving
Brumhilde ye frau bold
beeth as thee taketh
on to combat thine hero
victory onward road of Valhalla
Brumhilde thou be cast to fate
as defiance on thy lover to
thine Siegfried offspring
to ye siblings
Brumhilde audacious ever to face fire
Siegfried was in capture of thee
oh, woman of nobility rage of passion
be on to ye as bodies a flame force
desire upon other for true adoration
in rebellion
Brumhilde dearest amongst else
yet betrayed to greed indeed be ye
ast thine Siegfried does wrong on to thee
for drunk in triumph of glory
it taketh leave on to memory that be
desires past to new worlds in wealth
to adore Gertrude in place of thee
in matrimony
Brumhilde tricked be ye
as in slight of hand thou be robed
of ring so much cache to thee
as to arise wrath on thee beloved
to treachery of betrayal as to reveal
weakness for benefit ever wicked Hagen
Brumhilde grief be on to thee oh woeful one
as sorrow upon thine soul taketh ye to plunge
on flames of Siegfried riding steed gallant
in end to all for time present be Gotterdammerung
CD, that is epic. Nicely done!
Color me in quiltish (silly gravatar, waiting to send confirmation email)
I’m giddy for having free swag certain to cause some lurker-envy in a couple days.
Slightly disquieting, though, that it bears this caution:
[Formatting and typsetting kept from original]
How apt, it’s nearly a YSaC contender all by its lonesome.
Slightly inapt in being neither flask nor coffee capable, though.
Could have just said “For water use only. Not a flotation device”
Slightly concerned about that having to Retain all information, though; hard enough remembering what I do now–that, and the “starts out thin [coff], gets thicker in the middle [coff,coff], then gets [coff,coff,coff!] thinner [COFF!] again [cof] at the far end [coff].
The first opera I ever saw was Cosi fan Tutte, which is also a good one for beginners, I think. I was genuinely surprised to find out it was funny.
The opera company where I live, like many of them, projects an English translation above the stage. So, so helpful.
I also really liked Faust and Norma…but I must say that both of them have the kind of plots that could only happen in opera!
Me describing Faust to a coworker: “So this guy sees a beautiful young woman in the market and falls in love, and then sells his soul to the devil for her, and eventually she is taken bodily into heaven….”
The first time I saw Cosi Fan Tutte it was done in a bar, in English, and at the end they (accidentally) dropped an entire tray of champagne flutes, which shattered and spilled bubbles all over a poor wee lass in the front row. *snerkle* Sadly I do not think any other opera experience will be quite as fun(ny).
Much of opera’s appeal is its confrontation of tragedy. Jen’s experience of Cosi fan Tutte brought that to a new level to some random people… that’s awesome 🙂
I have no time to read or snark today, but I had to say that this:
Is quite possibly the most awesome thing I have ever read. Hart to Hart FTW!
Lola and Lara, line up side by side by side by side by *slap* Sorry. Punchity Punch Punch!
G’Night, Joe Green!
Um…I’m pretty sure you mean *Richard* Wagner, not Robert. Unless, of course, that was one of the bits you were making up.
Nerd moment over.
I just realized that this is the first time I’ve ever posted on YSaC. I’ve been a lurker for a few years and the first time I decide to leave a response it’s to correct something. I didn’t realize it, but I must be one of those people the internet hates.
(That was, indeed, one of the bits we were making up.)
I’ll stick to my Gilbert and Sullivan, thanks.
“I am the very model of a model major Craigslist post
I sell all things like jewelry and devices for making toast
I don’t bother with spellcheck because that is to much work for me
And I have got a red table for sale you can take it for free!”
cool! thanks for sharing!
I put Dan in the box. Apparently my secondary role here at YSaC is straight man. 8)
I hope that there are some great aunts to keep him company.
I’m a maaaaan – in a box.
Dan, don’t move around too much, or I might “accidentally” hit something “Important.” Punchity Punch Punch!
Good Morning, Valkyries!