Happy Halloween! Here are a few video treats to get you in the spirit of the day.

With spooky poems, delivery is everything—especially for a classic horror ballad.

Why not crash a dead man’s party?

God help you if your childhood Halloweens were anything like Bill Haverchuck’s.

Bet you didn’t know the scariest castle ever once haunted the Jersey Shore.

Some stories terrify with their very existence, like the story of “Dr. Heckyll and Mr. Jive.”

“Think happy thoughts, my children, or the scary man will do his crazy dancing in your nightmares.”

When you hear “Switzerland,” do you automatically think “bloodcurdling”? You will after watching this. (Just not for the reasons the Swiss hope you will.)

As my five-year-old nephew might say: Skeery!

When Beverly Hills Chihuahua makes you ponder Chaucer’s use of the beast-fable, and when the layout of a nearby jungle gym—a roofed octagonal structure joined to a separate rectangular building by a long, raised corridor—reminds you of Charlemagne’s compound at Aachen, then you really do need a vacation. While I hang out with the Viking Nephew and the Levitating Niece, here are some miscellaneous doodads and worthwhile reads from around the Web.

Scott Nokes shows us what it’s like to study Old English at Troy University. Don’t be disarmed by the humor; instead, envy those students the thrill of discovery.

Jonathan Jarrett at A Corner of Tenth Century Europe contemplates books that get passed down from scholars to their students.

Adrian Murdoch notes “the most peculiar classical juxtaposition of the day,” a comparison of Hadrian and Jörg Haider.

Dame Eleanor Hull wonders if medievalists are inevitably “late bloomers.”

Ephemeral New York shows us an ornate Manhattan fountain and the mayor who took a bullet in the throat.

Jake Seliger finds Sir Walter Scott’s novel Waverley more showy than telly.

Jenn at Per Omnia Saecula points out a vivid puppet production of Dante.

New Jersey residents, go see Steven Hart discuss his book The Last Three Miles, even if he can’t deliver those kazoo-playing elephants.

Dave from Studenda Mira sends along a fine travel piece from the New York Times: the story of an arduous Shetland ramble.

Linda takes us to a chapel of St. Roch in France that’s probably safer than the shrine I visited in New Orleans back in June.

On that note, I’m off to help two tiny people reenact a Big Country video.

Medievalists get jaded. Economic meltdowns? Long-distance relationships? Shark attacks? It’s all been done, and we can show you a text, some chunk of rock, or a saint’s life that said the same thing centuries ago. Studying history is liberating; it lets you be fascinated by the world around you but comforted by the fact that so little in life turns out to be truly new.

So when an email this weekend shocked me, I fell back on medieval precedent—but I found it wanting, because if the modern world throws novelty at you, and if a loved one is involved, then nothing can brace you for strange and miraculous news:

“Your niece has learned how to levitate.”

Recently, we here at “Quid Plura?” headquarters have had too little time for medievalism. As Charlemagne wrote to Alcuin after Elipandus of Toledo dabbled in heresy, “these are the days when you wish your bed was already made.” So here to offset the manic start of your week are decidedly non-medieval links.

The New Orleans Times-Picayune reports on the endurance of the city’s foremost vendors (and ertstwhile employer of Ignatius Reilly), Lucky Dogs. “The Lucky Dogs crew has between them a half-dozen Ph.D.’s,” the article claims, “and about as many felony charges.”

University Diaries describes what it’s like to live in the house where Ferdinand the Bull was born.

At Work in Progress, guest blogger Sara Dobie discusses how publishing a book isn’t the end of the author’s work, but just the beginning.

My friend at Ephemeral in New York shows you old-timey drinking fountains, Bay Ridge a century ago, and one massive christening gown.

Eternally Cool finds the residents of Pompeii demanding McDonald’s.

Quizzing readers on a new citizenship test, Der Spiegel asks, “Are you smart enough to be German?”

Richard Wright was best known for his books about race relations, but did you know that during the last 18 months of his life, he composed more than 4,000 haiku?

To have insomnia and a television is to gaze upon a vivid Chaucerian world of advertisements for products of dubious worth: joint spray for pets, miraculous clean-up cloths, electric roach repellents, and magic detoxifying foot pads. Rarely do these products benefit the sleepless medievalist—until now.

Behold: the Weird Scarlet Medieval Cowl Thingie.

Whether you’re prancing around wishing you were Dante Alighieri or just the minion of a cackling madman steering his spaceship toward the heart of a yawning black hole, the Weird Scarlet Medieval Cowl Thingie is the chinsy, pseudo-monastic garment you’ve been praying for. Its fibrous, fleecy folds let you live out your quasi-medieval dreams with panache. Why, if I’d had one, I might have updated this site more often in recent weeks—that is, as long as the air of wizardly authority it lends its wearer didn’t distract me from hurling fireballs at legions of screaming kolbolds. (Hey, you have your quasi-medieval vision, I have mine…)

It’s one of those weekends. I’m preparing for class (as a student, not as a teacher) and cooking up a storm. In the past 24 hours, I’ve made red beans and rice with andouille, Szechuan green beans with ground pork, a Mexican chili-and-oregano chicken marinade, and I’m brewing my own ginger ale. Should this blog suddenly go dark, you’ll know I was propelled to Valhalla by a window-shattering supernova of yeasty, ginger-flecked projectiles.

And so, some links to get you through the weekend:

Gabriele at Lost Fort translates a lovely Rilke poem and provides the original German for comparison.

ALOTT5MA has the latest on the film adaptation of Where the Wild Things Are. (Here’s a rough clip from the movie on YouTube.)

Ever wondered what happened to the ’67 Camaro from the John Cusack masterpiece Better Off Dead? You can find it—where else?—at betteroffdeadcamaro.com. (Turn down your volume first.)

Open Letters Monthly features the fifth installment of Green, the weird and wonderful serialized translation of Sir Gawain and the Green Knight by Adam Golaski.

Scott Nokes has a Morning Medieval Miscellany full of good stuff.

Got Medieval’s got elephants from medieval manuscripts.

The Gypsy Scholar dashes off a poem.

Steven Hart introduces us to a great travel writer.

The Cranky Professor wonders: Should museums be free?

Finally, everyone remembers Dream Academy for “Life in a Northern Town,” but since it’s September, sample their lesser-known but almost-as-anthemic single, “Indian Summer.” That was the problem with music in the ’80s: too many synthesizers, too few beautiful women on oboe…

Medievalism may be in short supply around here for the next day or so, as we at “Quid Plura?” headquarters stay glued to the Weather Channel. Gustav has its eye on the area of Louisiana where my family lives—but they make me proud, as they’re facing down the hurricane with the wit of Ignatius Reilly, the cruel gazes of my Viking nephew, and all the cynicism of transplanted New Jerseyans who won’t be cowed by storms, or snakes, or the giant mutant amphibious rodents that I’m sure hide under my nephew’s bed.

Anyway, with wind and rain bearing down on the bayou, let’s kill time with a Category Three installment of “weird searches that brought people to this Web site.”

literal coat of arms
If that person knows what “literal” means, then this makes for one disturbing image.

exotic bone splitting combat axes
Wield these while wearing your “literal coat of arms” and you’ll be a superlative whirlwind of smite.

review of literature on shelf life of cumin
Good grief, man, how much cumin did you buy?

unicorn spittle
I’m not saying it’s not the secret ingredient in my homemade pierogies, but…

stimulating grendel lessons
I sense a joke about having only one arm, but I’m too much of a prude to make it.

how to catch a predator series starring chris hansen on dvd
If you need this to stimulate your Grendel, then God help you.

frenzied sharks eating themselves
When my book becomes a Sci-Fi Channel Movie, remind me to include this in a scene.

playmobil war of independence
“I was only a boy when they clipped a rifle in my hand and loaded me onto the troop ship. It was my first time away from home, and I was scared, because I’d never been able to bend my arms. I told the sarge, but he just stared at me. ‘Boy,’ he said, ‘none of these sons of bitches can bend their arms.’ No one laughed; they just smiled and gazed into the distance…”

what part of the book beowulf uses anecdotes?
The part where Beowulf and the other Christians hold a tale-telling contest on their pilgrimage to Canterbury. Be sure to footnote me in your paper.

all we have left is the flowers in the garden to remind us
“You got your poignancy in my sarcasm!” “You got your sarcasm in my poignancy!”

i fought your face, and your face won
Thank heaven for my literal coat of arms.

now i’m fine, but i hear all of those voices in my mind
Ignore the ones that tell you to strangle manatees in the nude, please; but spare a thought for the folks in the Gulf, and hope that they get only rain.

Busy week! But enjoy these midweek links, won’t you?

Julie K. Rose has posted the text of her interview with me on the Writers and Their Soundtracks blog. I loved her questions; they made me feel like Jimmy from The Commitments.

Olen Steinhauer is looking for TV shows about spies that do justice to the genre.

Leslie Pietrzyk says, “poets, beware.”

Ephemeral New York tells you where to buy a skeleton in 1916.

Michael Drout has a fun story about his daughter, ancient animal toys, and a Lord of the Rings actor.

Speaking of toys, ALOTT5MA notes the 30th anniversary of the Lego minifigure.

Speaking of Tolkien, Jake Seliger suggests reading his poems in context.

Finally, if you find two weeks of political-convention gasbaggery more horrifying than a fly-infested beach littered with goes-to-eleven boom-boxes blasting digitally remastered recordings of Grendel raking his claws lengthwise across the White Cliffs of Dover (“did he really just deploy that metaphor? Judas priest, I think he did”), then here’s an antidote: Johnny Cash singing “The One on the Right Was On the Left.” Oh dear…

To my surprise, it’s Friday again. Here, dear readers, are weekend links.

Steven Hart writes eloquently about poetry and the decline of New Jersey newspapers.

Terry Teachout visits Willa Cather’s grave and ponders Our Town.

The Rejecter sparks a heated debate about the fan backlash against the novel Breaking Dawn.

“Insufficient vespene gas!” BusinessWeek profiles Blizzard Entertainment.

Kid Beowulf and the Blood-Bound Oath is now on sale. Buy it, all-ages comics readers! Its author needs incentive to finish the Charlemagne-themed second volume.

Finally, it wouldn’t be Friday without Roger Miller, so here’s “My Uncle Used to Love Me But She Died.” If there’s a better song for a late August weekend, I sure as heck don’t know it—although “In the Summertime” with singing watermelons must be a close second.

Oh, the places you’d go! …if only you had time, money, a plane ticket, and weren’t planted in front of your computer waiting for some weekend reading.

Manhattan! Ephemeral in New York finds enthusiastic cheese.

Catalonia! Jonathan Jarrett sees traces of a love story in 10th-century charters.

Angla-Land! Test your dexterity and constitution with a “Dungeons and Dragons memoir.”

Hobbiton! Jake Seliger defends fantasy lit.

Belgium! The Economist tells you how to survive a business trip to Brussels.

Roma! The Cranky Professor offers tips on dining in the Eternal City.

Deutschland! Gabriele presents the weirdest castle you’re ever gonna see.

Iceland! In the Westman Islands, the yearly puffin hunt is on. Flap for your lives, you puckish little sea-birds!

And, because now it’s stuck in your head, here’s the video for “Holiday Road”—and may your weekend offer more depth than this annoyingly catchy song.