Take Me to Valhalla, Baby
“…the second rare thing he possesses is… the belt of strength. When he girds it about him his divine might is doubled. The third, also very precious, is his iron gloves, which he puts on whenever he would use his mallet efficiently…” (Thomas Bulfinch, Age of Fable: Vols. I & II: Stories of Gods and Heroes)
With all that loin girding and dexterous tool-wielding, it’s hard not to succumb to a fantasy where Thor’s mighty pounding of his MÖjllnir means more than mythology intended…That is, of course, if you’ve seen Alex Skarsgård, better known as the utterly Thorgasm-worthy vampire-Viking sex-beast of True Blood. And make no mistake; fangs have little to do with it. Move over, Vampire Bill. The tide’s a’changing, and with it brings the oar-pumping progeny of golden Norse gods; longboats, loins and collective fan-lust galore.
But the delicious pillage doesn’t end with the conquests of Eric Northman, and not even the glorious realm of Hollywood is impervious to subjugation, with a slew of recent Viking epics as 
well as Kenneth Branagh’s Thor being released next May, and, most importantly, a flaxen Chris Hemsworth in the title-role.
Praise all that is good and Nordic.
But what is it about these gilded heroes that has rendered the formulaic “tall, dark and handsome” obsolete and left quasi-Draculas quivering in their coffins?
Perhaps it’s the paradox presented by that irrepressible carnality burning just beneath iceberg reticence, and the thrilling threat of being dragged into some wooded Pagan circle for a good hammering.
Maybe it’s the fact that blonde-tressed lads running amok in leather skirts remain unaffectedly confident in their sexuality.
Or it could be that unlike the morbidly reclusive night-creepers, you’ll rarely find the full-blooded daywalker without his horde. The group dynamic offers a myriad of delectable possibilities.
Whether it was the insipidities of Stephenie Meyer or Asgardian deities smiling down on us mere mortals that precipitated this mythic resurgence, the final result remains the same: a visual pantheon that will leave you feeling as though you’ve died and gone to celluloid Valhalla.
