Lawnmower Boy

So I;m getting on my bike at work, ready to ride home, and I joke to myself that I'm getting ready to survive the zombie apocalypse, because, you know, why don't people in zombie apocalypses have bikes, or wear motorcycle leathers for hand-to-hand protection, or have slings so that they can bust zombie skulls with everyday rocks, etc, etc....
 
When it occurs to me that they do. It's just that zombie apocalypse fiction focusses on the morons who haven't figured this stuff out yet. They make for better stories. They're trying to kill zombie hordes (and each other) with katanas. That's drama. All the sane people over in Bike Town ever do is  plant stuff, harvest stuff, make stuff, build stuff all day every day. Bo-oring. 

So I;m getting on my bike at work, ready to ride home, and I joke to myself that I'm getting ready to survive the zombie apocalypse, because, you know, why don't people in zombie apocalypses have bikes, or wear motorcycle leathers for hand-to-hand protection, or have slings so that they can bust zombie skulls with everyday rocks, etc, etc....
 
When it occurs to me that they do. It's just that zombie apocalypse fiction focusses on the morons who haven't figured this stuff out yet. They make for better stories. They're trying to kill zombie hordes (and each other) with katanas. That's drama. All the sane people over in Bike Town ever do is  plant stuff, harvest stuff, make stuff, build stuff all day every day. Bo-oring. 

So I;m getting on my bike at work, ready to ride home, and I joke to myself that I'm getting ready to survive the zombie apocalypse, because, you know, why don't people in zombie apocalypses have bikes, or wear motorcycle leathers for hand-to-hand protection, or have slings so that they can bust zombie skulls with everyday rocks, etc, etc....
 
When it occurs to me that they do. It's just that zombie apocalypse fiction focusses on the morons who haven't figured this stuff out yet. They make for better stories. They're trying to kill zombie hordes (and each other) with katanas. That's drama. All the sane people over in Bike Town ever do is  plant stuff, harvest stuff, make stuff, build stuff all day every day. Bo-oring. 

You know what the problem with politics is these days? We have a solid wing of engaged supporters for a party that doesn't dare call itself by its name!
 
That's why I bring you --The Bipolar Tweaker Party!
 
Slogan: Get back at everyone who is holding you back in 2016! (I'll leave the rest of the pitch 'till after you go check to see if someone is trying to steal your car.)
 
I, uhm, I, I'm sure I had that thing in my bag. That's why I've been standing here rummaging through it all the time you were gone. How long was that again? Wow. Is it 1 already? Wow. Just let me-- it's for allergies.
So. Anyway. OMG. I'vegotthepoliticalpartyOMGnomorepartisanthingbipartisanOMGitsalltheJewstryingtogetustosupportPutinISISIslamicpressurecookerbomb911insideNealBushOMG
 
Anyway. Breathe. It's gotta be inhere. The thing. My wallet. Oh? You'll pay for my espresso?Awesome.Okayhere'stheelevatorpitchOMG.
 
Breathe. Are you sure no-one's trying to steal your car? Someone tried to steal my car the other day. Got in somehow, but couldn't start it. I could tell. They rearranged my glove compartment. Now I can't even find it! That's why I wear these tinfoil gloves. So the NSA can't tell what I'm typing.
 
Sopitch. "Get back at everyone who ever tried to hold you back." Wait? I said that? Sookaythepoint
 
Breathe. I'll slow down. The longer pitch? The world is a scary place because people are plotting against you. Yes, you. Even members of your family. Do they tell you that you need to cut back, that you've been talking crazy, that it's possible for you to be on time for work and school every day? They're crazy. They're all crazy. That's why they say that you're crazy. They do, you know. Behind your back. Well, vote for the Bipolar Tweaker Party, and you can get back at them. You see on TV theawesomeexplodyjetswooshyArmyNavyAirForceSealTeam6? Awesome. China's gonna get that stuff when we're in charge. So hard so fast rush rush shock and awe like anonymous sex in the washroom at the club. Oh, you bet they are. Them and the North Koreans. That's for stealing our good job that we had back before we had to go on Ritalin for our ADHD and then the doctor said we couldn't be on it any more because of heart murmurs and now we have to score it in the back of the club every Wednesday night and what do you mean we have to be in class on Thursday morning, too?
 
So the point is, after we 'splode China, we'll 'splode Mr. Areshat principal and that stupid boss and Dad with his, "Oh, I think you've had enough for tonight" crap. And we'll get that ex of ours. We'll get everyone. Then everything will be awesome. Vote Bipolar Tweaker Party 2016! Or whenever you have elections in your country. (Or city. I hear you, Ford Nation!) If the JewsArabsRussiansIlluminatiChinese1%percentersmoochersKoreans let you. Have elections, I mean. If not, there's always pressure cooker bombs.
 
Gottarun. Very important text message. Meeting a guy in the park. For reasons. Not because he's got oxycontin and I've got these teeth whitening strips I just lifted. Nope. Not because of that.

So it's still only illegal in Massachusetts, right?
 
Asking for a friend.

That's one small step for an organisation, one giant leap for an... 
 
Hold on. I'll come in again.

That's one small step for an organisation, one giant leap for an... 
 
Hold on. I'll come in again.

So it's still only illegal in Massachusetts, right?
 
Asking for a friend.

Basic
 
The Book of Three Rings
 
Dweomercraft for Apprentices
 
The Book of Changes
 
The Lazy Man's Guide to Enchantment
 
Diabolism for Dabblers
 
The Book of Prayers in Common
 
The Prayer's Handbook
 
The Lore Plain
 
Authentic Thaumaturgy
 
Approved Practical Catechism
 
Orthography of Phydaux
 
How to Do that Hoodoo So You Do it Well
 
Holbytlan
 
Codex of the West
 
Low
 
Common Clerical Errors
 
Justice Incorporeal
 
Dangers Interdimensional
 
A First Bestiary
 
 
Intermediate
 
The Book of Forty Kings
 
The Arduous Grimoire
 
A Field Guide to Forces
 
Analects that Confuse Us
 
The Bell Book
 
The Codex of Silence
 
The Book of Changes
 
The Monstrum Manual
 
Handbook of Alchemy and Metaphysics
 
Libram of Useful Herbs
 
The Joy of Hex
 
Auric Onager
 
Pictorial Key to the Law
 
The Classic Way of Virtue
 
The Limb of Gold
 
Which World?
 
Doctrine and Ceremony of the Great Work
 
Book of the Undead
 
Seer's Catalog
 
A Second Bestiary
 
Scroll of Saving
 
 
Advanced
 
Uncommon Clerical Terrors
 
The Book of the Well Done Cow
 
The Book of Splendor
 
The Donjon Mystic's Guide
 
The Book of Changes
 
Metamagical Themas
 
The Cryptic Codex
 
The Jade Tablet
 
The Tome of Mausoleus
 
A Brief Mystery of Tomes
 
Circles of Arepo
 
 
Forbidden
 
The Tome of Horrors
 
Scroll of the Bones
 
The Sorcerer's Codex
 
The Incunabulus of Diabolotry
 
The Club of the Month Book
 
The Complete Idiot's Guide to Necromancy
 
The Suzerain in Saffron
 
Oracle of the Thousand Hands
 
The Unspeakable Cult of the Unpronouncable Name
 
The Seven Hobbits of Highly Defective Purple
 
Occult Blood
 
Book of Fifty Shadows
 
Songs of the Barred
 
The Zornwil Effect
 
 
 
Lucius Alexander
 
The palindromedary appears in Circus of Words

A Foundation For Any Possible Metaphysics
Basic Introduction to Ontological Translations in a Four Element Manifold
Elementary Pneumatological Induction
Vector Magic
An Introduction to the Use of Tensors and Quaternions in Necromantics
Some Partial Differential Hexes

If you're from anywhere. Mustard, relish, onions. Other people like other things, and other people are wrong.

the neighbourhood kids are outside again, performing unstructured play-related activities.
 
Twenty-first century childhood: you're doing it wrong. 

the neighbourhood kids are outside again, performing unstructured play-related activities.
 
Twenty-first century childhood: you're doing it wrong. 

Rented Thor: The Dark World. 
 
Takeaways: i) it was okay.
ii) Natalie Portman sure is good looking!
iii) Darcy needs her own movie.

It's been said many times, but bares repeating in regards Battle of New Orleans:
 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=fOFUbrQWK_A

Dear Customer:
 
Do you have chronic understaffing at your work place? Are you short of help and unable to get the most basic things done while on the clock? Have you never noticed these things elsewhere. If so, I certainly appreciate where you're coming from. (Mars.)
 
If you have noticed these things, I have some questions for you:
 
i) If there are lineups at every checkstand a mile deep, why do you think that standing in front of the "closed" sign at Customer Service is going to improve things? Do you think that there's someone hiding behind there who will jump out and congratulate you for figuring out the secret way around the lineups? (Although you might just want any one of a million things that our inexperienced cashiers can't do, and I am trying to be understanding here. If I am not as patient as I might be, just imagine that I have been called away from putting the milk and meat orders away in the coolers to do this for you. Because I have.)
 
ii) I presume that you will have noticed that there are no bakeries/flower shops open at this time of the night. Your local supermarket has flowers and cakes! So far, so good. But, and this might be a bit of a logical leap here, if your local flower shop is closed because it can't provide proper service at this hour, do you think it likely that your supermarket will have someone available who can "wrap this up very nicely, like you would present to a performer after she comes off stage?" It's not that I don't appreciate your needs, and am not willing to at least try. It's that I have three new merchandising ends to build tonight, and the only question is how late I have to stay to get it done.
 
iii) Presuming that you haven't thought the above through, have you considered revisiting your assumptions before you wade through the lineups to get to a cashier to demand your special wrap job? Because it would not be completely unreasonable to have this hypothetical special-flower-wrapping person trained as a cashier, so that they could be on the tills, as opposed to being free to do an ultra deluxe flower wrap for you. 
iv) I appreciate your coming to tell me that your cashier is slow and incompetent. Have you considered the possibility that we would not have hired a 55 year old with who can barely speak English with crazy-person-ticks if we could have found someone better? There are many excellent sources of information about public policy issues that might help you understand why we couldn't find someone better, and those same sources will help you direct your energies and attention in productive ways, such as writing your MP. I suggest that hectoring the night manager is not one of those productive ways.
 
v) Speaking of fighting your way through the lineups to bring your very important concern to someone's attention, but if that said person has to be paged out of the depths of the store, and emerges sweaty and holding a box cutter, perhaps there exists some benefit-maximisation-algorithm that you can run that would suggest that this is not the best way of proceeding with complaints about out of stocks. I mean, certainly if the item is not on the shelf, go for it. If the item you found is a 12 pack of toilet paper, and is not completely to your satisfaction because there's a little tear on the bottom of the packaging? Now, we are wandering into the territory of the somewhat unreasonable.
 
vi) I understand that the bakery department loses almost 20 cents an item when gourmet donuts are confused with regular donuts, and I would be the first to concede that putting self-serve boxes out for customers to use is going to result in those mistakes as well as general wastage. Still, consider the possibility that customers will respond to this not by shrugging their shoulders and deciding that they really didn't want to box up some donuts (which, again, I'm not seeing as a business optimisation strategy, but never mind) but, instead, calling for customer service.  This will result in their getting boxes (probably more expensive ones) and a lot of time being wasted. Are we really going to save that much money?
 
vii) It would certainly be deplorable if people were to use rainchecks stashed at the tills for illegitimate purposes. I can certainly see how storing them at customer service might slightly reduce such abuse and lead to savings at the margin.  But it is worth considering the possibility that either the night manager will have to waste a lot of time handing them out, or that people will go without, and be disgruntled, instead, and never shop at the store again. Have we really thought the business case through satisfactorily?
 
viii) Dear The Street: I understand that you set profit expectations in service to the shareholder. I understand that this is how capitalism works, etc, etc. But, and here you're going to have to follow along with me on a huge logical leap, what if there is a correlation between hours cuts and low sanitation score results? Oh, I know, it's far more likely that it's just laziness that leads to dirt and cross-contamination, and that you can just keep on cutting labour targets forever, knowing that if you tell the frontline staff that cleanliness is a priority, that it will be done. (Unless they're lazy.) But what if there is a correlation? I know, I know, I'm repeating myself. It's to get your attention, because this crazy hypothetical actually has some consequences that might be important to you.
 
You see, if this crazy theory is true, cutting hours to meet financial targets might lead to your food being poisonous. Just a thought.
 
ix) Somewhere, someone in the ranks of middle management is typing an email right now that says that "Your request for additional decorating/meat-wrapping/food-service/relief-management" help could not be filled.
 
We understand. Sometimes, there is no-one to do the work, either at the store or in the chain, and the consequences will be felt through the chain. Classically, one solution to this problem, to talk like an economist, is "raising the bid for the item to its clearing price." That is, if you offer to buy something, and no-one offers to sell it, you increase your offering bid. Now, imagine that "labour" is a "thing," and that its "price" is "wages." What we are seeing here is that the store is offering to "buy" "labour" with an "offer." That is, with a "wage." And no-one is offering a supply of "labour" at that "wage."
 
What I am saying here is that classical economics offers a solution to this problem.  

The Lockheed Cl-1201, nuclear powered flying aircraft carrier/cargo plane, the largest aircraft ever proposed. 1120 foot wingspan(about the length of a Nimitz class CVN), 560 feet long(2.5 times the length of a 747). Total weight 5625 tons. In the flying aircraft carrier configuration it would have carried it's own air wing of 24 fighters(apparently full size!)
 
Happy to have finally found another pic of it after glimpsing the image years ago while flipping through a book.

Once upon a time, a grocery chain decided that it had had enough with all of that working out exchange rates and bothering about the US-Canadian border. "Canada is run by oligopolies," it decided. "Eventually, one of them will buy our Canadian division, because that is the way that Canadians do things, the silly people. In the mean time, we can save muchos dineros by not spending on frivolities such as upgraded IT that the new owners will just have to tear out and replace with their stuff anyway!"
 
And, lo, so it came to pass. And the new owners said, "Well, between the time when we actually integrate our IT across our new division, we should look into this whole 'tap to pay' thing, because the EFT readers at store-level are on their last legs anyway, so it will get us extra custom without really costing us anything." One little boy said, "But what if there are problems with backwards compatibility with the twenty-year-old servers, like there are every time we have this brainstorm?"
 
Fortunately, a sharp glance from the CEO proved sufficient to silence the little boy, who was well aware of what Lovecraftian horrors await behind codewords like "we wish him luck in his next assignment," orm unspeakable horror to end all unspeakable horrors, "resigned to spend more time with his family." 
 
Surprisingly enough, however, the little boy was right. There were backwards compatibility issues. Specifically, unless all tills around the store were manually signed off before 'store close,' and then left signed off for an hour afterwards, the entire store EFT payment system would crash at some point the next day, rendering the store "cash only" until the next business day.
 
Because, you know, that is a totally acceptable consequence for falling short of a no-fault process.
 
On a personal note, I am very grateful that I have not crashed the store since we discovered the fault. The one time I did it before that was fun, though.

You ship Tarquin, too, Hermit? I sure hope he ends up with Miko, so those two crazy, misunderstood kids can sail off into the sunset somewhere together.

Even if she really is a "dishonest, manipulative, ignorant schemer", which I don't believe, that still just makes her just another internet troll and that doesn't make her deserving of death threats and rape threats.  If there are guys out there getting significantly more harassment for the same "crimes", they don't deserve it either.

Notice that Lindisfarne did not become a Viking outrage until the 12th Century writings of Simeon of Durham. Before that, one had the inconvenient problem that our sources were a letter from Alcuin to the effect that the monks of Lindisfarne had it coming to another abbot with issues with the See of York, and a reference to it happening in the first week of January in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. January is not, in the North Sea, the raiding month, and while Alcuin might have been a saintly churchman, he was also very much a man of the world and a proponent of York's oft-disputed authority over the monasteries of the northeast coast. 
 
Now: Simeon of Durham, who first proposed to emend the Chronicle to read "June" (still a little early for raiding, which usually happened after the crops were brought in) instead of June. There is a great deal we do not know about Simeon, but we do know that he was a monk and member of the chapter of the Palatine Bishopric of Durham, the overmighty ecclesastical ministate that contested authority in the old Northumbrian lands with the men who sat at Bamburgh, whom we know to  have been ancestors of Scotland's royal Dunkeld dynasty, and suspect to have been their ancestors in the line male, as well as of the Percys and perhaps Nevilles. (And, for that matter, the Armstrongs of Armstrong-Whitworth.) 
 
Durham's claim to Palatine status, and to its lands, depends not on ancient charters, for no charters of this era exist for the northeast. (Yet another dog barking in the nighttime in this story.) Rather, it depends on Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English, which records the donation of vast estates to Lindisfarne by the early Northumbrian kings.
 
Now, you might detect a problem here. Lindisfarne is not Durham! Lindisfarne is a fortress-island only five miles from the great royal citadel of Bamburgh across the water, clearly under the gaze of its citadel, and formidably protected by a castle on its own mount that was probably the site of the Anglo-Saxon monastery. Durham is a port town on the river Wear, just down from Newcastle-on-Tyne, the kind of staples export town that became important in the world in the eleventh century. How did we come to confuse Durham with Lindisfarne?
 
Answer: the bishopric of St. Cuthbert, patron of Lindisfarne, was translated to Durham in the tenth century. We have the story:in 863, the Great Viking Army killed the two contesting kings of Northumbria and established themselves at the Archepiscopal city of York. As tolerant as they were of the Archbishop of York, these Vikings conceived a dislike of Lindisfarne, and, in good time (875), decided to sack it.
 
Forwarned of the Viking menace (which, in fact, never materialised), the monks of Lindisfarne fled their seat. Wandering here and there about the northlands, after 7 years, they came to the town of Chester-le-Street, where they lay in exile for a century. (By cleverly hiding on the main road north, they evaded Viking attentions. Who would think to look for them there?) Then, and the end of the 10th Century, they decided that Chester-le-Street was bad for the visceral humours, and relocated at  Durham, burying the body of St. Cuthbert there. Although by that time they had misplaced the miraculous relics of the other numinous saints that were in the island, such as Aidan and Oswald, the latter ending up at Glastonbury amongst the booty of Edmund's raiding in Northumberland in the 930s. 
 
So by this time, you might be detecting an ironic subtext in my historical gloss, and be wondering how it is that the body was that of Saint Cuthbert? Simple: in the presence of, amongst others, Simeon, the stone catafalque was opened in the middle of the 12th century, and found to contain, besides an incorrupt body (a fairly common miracle in the era, when there were a lot of dead saints, all of them miraculously incorrupt) and more importantly, a stole and prayer book of seventh century provenance.
 
Now, pause for a second to savour the image of heavily-thewed monks, fleeing in panic from the Holy Isle, with a stone catafalque on their shoulders. Slosh, slosh, slide thump comes the noise inside the catafalque, as the ancient book slides free with every step. "Father Abbot," says a monk, "Can we stop and put the relics of St. Cuthbert in something . . . more suitable?" "Flee, flee, like your lives depend upon it," answers the Father Abbot.
 
Well, here's another problem: if you say "book" and you say "Lindisfarne," chances are that you will think of the Lindisfarne Gospels, a beautiful text of the Eighth Century, but with a dedication, apparently two centuries later (that is, the 930s or so). That dedication is to the brothers of the Priory of Lindisfarne, and "to the saints that are in that isle."
 
"But wait!" You say. "You said that the Priory was abandoned!" And I did say that. But not really. Like the Holy Isle of Iona, Lindisfarne was abandoned in a way that didn't actually empty it of monks. Lindisfarne was still a holy place, a monastic place, in the Twelfth Century, when Simeon of Durham was writing. Specifically, it was a Benedictine house, subject to Durham. As far as we know, Simeon himelf was a novitiate there. (There's an argument about a charterbook that lists him, as to whether it gives novices from Lindisfarne or Monkswearmouth, but let that pass.) Simeon was eventually promoted --or something-- to Durham, arriving there just in time to see Cuthbert's miraculous remains excavated and revealed to the world.
 
So when I say, "abandoned," I mean it in an interesting sense. Many monasteries are known to have been abandoned in the 9th and 10th century, usually over competing claims to their endowments. Some of those monasteries were dissolved. Others were ... well, what's the word when an army arrives with fire and sword to make it clear that the monks have decided to re-enter the secular world, possibly as high-value slaves, leaving any mobile wealth behind them? Because while some would use the word "heathen" to describe such an army, we know very well that sometimes they obeyed good Christian kings.
 
By the twelfth century, that is, after the day of Canute and Harald Hardrada, attempts to explain the fading-away of many of the great monasteries mentioned in texts such as Bede's placed great emphasis on the role of Vikings, as opposed, say, to that of the ancestors of the kings and earls of England.
 
It is a truth universally admitted that when Mom finds you in the kitchen with a cookie in your hand and the cookie jar broken on the floor, the temptation to point at your brother is very strong. 

Notice that Lindisfarne did not become a Viking outrage until the 12th Century writings of Simeon of Durham. Before that, one had the inconvenient problem that our sources were a letter from Alcuin to the effect that the monks of Lindisfarne had it coming to another abbot with issues with the See of York, and a reference to it happening in the first week of January in the Anglo-Saxon Chronicle. January is not, in the North Sea, the raiding month, and while Alcuin might have been a saintly churchman, he was also very much a man of the world and a proponent of York's oft-disputed authority over the monasteries of the northeast coast. 
 
Now: Simeon of Durham, who first proposed to emend the Chronicle to read "June" (still a little early for raiding, which usually happened after the crops were brought in) instead of June. There is a great deal we do not know about Simeon, but we do know that he was a monk and member of the chapter of the Palatine Bishopric of Durham, the overmighty ecclesastical ministate that contested authority in the old Northumbrian lands with the men who sat at Bamburgh, whom we know to  have been ancestors of Scotland's royal Dunkeld dynasty, and suspect to have been their ancestors in the line male, as well as of the Percys and perhaps Nevilles. (And, for that matter, the Armstrongs of Armstrong-Whitworth.) 
 
Durham's claim to Palatine status, and to its lands, depends not on ancient charters, for no charters of this era exist for the northeast. (Yet another dog barking in the nighttime in this story.) Rather, it depends on Bede's Ecclesiastical History of the English, which records the donation of vast estates to Lindisfarne by the early Northumbrian kings.
 
Now, you might detect a problem here. Lindisfarne is not Durham! Lindisfarne is a fortress-island only five miles from the great royal citadel of Bamburgh across the water, clearly under the gaze of its citadel, and formidably protected by a castle on its own mount that was probably the site of the Anglo-Saxon monastery. Durham is a port town on the river Wear, just down from Newcastle-on-Tyne, the kind of staples export town that became important in the world in the eleventh century. How did we come to confuse Durham with Lindisfarne?
 
Answer: the bishopric of St. Cuthbert, patron of Lindisfarne, was translated to Durham in the tenth century. We have the story:in 863, the Great Viking Army killed the two contesting kings of Northumbria and established themselves at the Archepiscopal city of York. As tolerant as they were of the Archbishop of York, these Vikings conceived a dislike of Lindisfarne, and, in good time (875), decided to sack it.
 
Forwarned of the Viking menace (which, in fact, never materialised), the monks of Lindisfarne fled their seat. Wandering here and there about the northlands, after 7 years, they came to the town of Chester-le-Street, where they lay in exile for a century. (By cleverly hiding on the main road north, they evaded Viking attentions. Who would think to look for them there?) Then, and the end of the 10th Century, they decided that Chester-le-Street was bad for the visceral humours, and relocated at  Durham, burying the body of St. Cuthbert there. Although by that time they had misplaced the miraculous relics of the other numinous saints that were in the island, such as Aidan and Oswald, the latter ending up at Glastonbury amongst the booty of Edmund's raiding in Northumberland in the 930s. 
 
So by this time, you might be detecting an ironic subtext in my historical gloss, and be wondering how it is that the body was that of Saint Cuthbert? Simple: in the presence of, amongst others, Simeon, the stone catafalque was opened in the middle of the 12th century, and found to contain, besides an incorrupt body (a fairly common miracle in the era, when there were a lot of dead saints, all of them miraculously incorrupt) and more importantly, a stole and prayer book of seventh century provenance.
 
Now, pause for a second to savour the image of heavily-thewed monks, fleeing in panic from the Holy Isle, with a stone catafalque on their shoulders. Slosh, slosh, slide thump comes the noise inside the catafalque, as the ancient book slides free with every step. "Father Abbot," says a monk, "Can we stop and put the relics of St. Cuthbert in something . . . more suitable?" "Flee, flee, like your lives depend upon it," answers the Father Abbot.
 
Well, here's another problem: if you say "book" and you say "Lindisfarne," chances are that you will think of the Lindisfarne Gospels, a beautiful text of the Eighth Century, but with a dedication, apparently two centuries later (that is, the 930s or so). That dedication is to the brothers of the Priory of Lindisfarne, and "to the saints that are in that isle."
 
"But wait!" You say. "You said that the Priory was abandoned!" And I did say that. But not really. Like the Holy Isle of Iona, Lindisfarne was abandoned in a way that didn't actually empty it of monks. Lindisfarne was still a holy place, a monastic place, in the Twelfth Century, when Simeon of Durham was writing. Specifically, it was a Benedictine house, subject to Durham. As far as we know, Simeon himelf was a novitiate there. (There's an argument about a charterbook that lists him, as to whether it gives novices from Lindisfarne or Monkswearmouth, but let that pass.) Simeon was eventually promoted --or something-- to Durham, arriving there just in time to see Cuthbert's miraculous remains excavated and revealed to the world.
 
So when I say, "abandoned," I mean it in an interesting sense. Many monasteries are known to have been abandoned in the 9th and 10th century, usually over competing claims to their endowments. Some of those monasteries were dissolved. Others were ... well, what's the word when an army arrives with fire and sword to make it clear that the monks have decided to re-enter the secular world, possibly as high-value slaves, leaving any mobile wealth behind them? Because while some would use the word "heathen" to describe such an army, we know very well that sometimes they obeyed good Christian kings.
 
By the twelfth century, that is, after the day of Canute and Harald Hardrada, attempts to explain the fading-away of many of the great monasteries mentioned in texts such as Bede's placed great emphasis on the role of Vikings, as opposed, say, to that of the ancestors of the kings and earls of England.
 
It is a truth universally admitted that when Mom finds you in the kitchen with a cookie in your hand and the cookie jar broken on the floor, the temptation to point at your brother is very strong. 

The Send is from an Azurite cleric, so we know that she is telling Haley that Xykon is on the move, and will be at Girard's Gate shortly:
 
the sequence of events:
 
i) Xykon loses his phylactery down a sewer grate and promises to move on to Girard's Gate the moment he finds it: http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0662.html
i.5) Hinjo agrees to coordinate the effort to protect the Gates from his new base on an island off the Western Continent: http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0671.html
ii) The phylactery is recovered, and the Azure Resistance Sends a warning to Hinjo that Xykon is on the move: http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0827.html
iii) Hinjo receives the warning, and sets out to warn the Order of the Stick. http://www.giantitp.com/comics/oots0865.html