Nobody? i"d offer a few of my own, but as a suburbanite, I'm not particularly familiar with a lot of tall tales and urban myths. I only know the big ones like Pecos Bill and Davey Crockett. (Though if any European or other anon is fuzzy on American legends and tall tales I'll be glad to fill in as best I can.

There was a bridge that collapsed in my town and when the people diving for bodies and such came up from the river they said they saw huge fish down there that could eat people pretty easily. Seeing as how the river has a bunch of catfish and catfish grow to their environment it theoretically could be possible.

He said, "take a rusty spike and drive it down three times, boy,
I'll pay you a nickel a day for every inch you sink it to!
Go on and do what you say you can do."

With a steep-nosed hammer on a four foot switch handle,
John Henry raised it back 'til it touched his heels.
Then the spike went through the cross-tie, and split it half in two!
Thirty-five cents a day for drivin' steel.
("Sweat, boy, sweat! You owe me two more swings! - I was born for drivin' steel.)

Look for the "Weird US" and "Weird (State)" books. Lots of local legends and mysteries in those.

The one that comes to my mind most quickly would have to be Daniel Boone.

MOUNTAIN MANNAN
BEAR KILLAN
FIGHTAN DRINKAN and TENNESSEEAN

That business with the Alamo was pretty bad, admittedly, but still.

European interested, good sir. Proceed.

Carlo, the bum that lives behind the Port Authority.

He knows EVERYTHING.

>SPECTER worrol

There is the man who could be anyone, but he was struck by lightning and can now hear super well. Anytime you speak of him he not only hears it, but also hears the distant sound of lightning. You have to whisper to talk about him without invoking his wrath! and he will track you down with super hearing abilities.

Have you heard of the Chained Oak?

It's 1821, Alton village, Staffordshire, England. The Earl of Shrewsbury is on his way back home to Alton Towers when an old woman stepped out from behind an oak tree and into the road. She begged him for a coin. He was rich, but tired and wanted to get home quickly, so he brushed the old crone off.

She cursed the Earl, pointing to the oak behind her. "For every branch on the Old Oak Tree here that falls, a member of the Earl’s family will die."

The Earl ignored her and rode home.

Now, there are two versions to the tale from here. The first says that a storm raged that night and lightning struck the oak, knocking off a branch. The second says that the following morning, the Earl took his son out riding and they passed under the tree when a branch broke off and landed on his son, killing the boy. Either way, the Earl saw that the curse was real and instructed his household servants to place chains and shackles on the tree, to hold the branches on.

This is a real thing, and you can visit the chained oak. In fact, Alton Towers has become one of Britain's most popular theme parks. A branch fell off in April 2007. It's not yet been confirmed if anyone's died.

The chains have literally been on so long that they have become part of the tree, inseperable.

>>12561320

>the Earl saw the threat was real when one of his family died

Oop, just realised I left out the bit that following the lightning storm, a member of the Earl's household was found dead.

Slender Man.

Look him up.

>>12561238
The Alamo was full of manly and glorious last stand.

Plus it wasnt the actual US army who made that stand.

We had a guy in my home town called "rag man Pete". Homeless and crazy as a cat with it's head stuck in a bee hive. Incidentally my home town was on the coast. Well one day this giant squid floats into town. At first people came to see it, but it seems the squid would only eat them. Then people tried to kill it, but the hippies protested and threatened to beat them. Well old rag man Pete just wandered on down to the docks and battled that squid, for an entire morning he wrestled that cepholopod until he had strangled it to death with it's own tentacles. After it was over he climbed out of the water, begged for change from the crowd that had gathered to watch the spectacle, and wandered off to get drunk off a cheap bottle of wine. And that is only one tale of our local folk hero.

>>12561238
You are thinking of Davey Crockett, not Daniel Boone. Boone was never at the Alamo and is famous for pioneering the are that is now Kentucky.

>>12561176
Was it the Minnesota bridge that collapsed in 08-09? I don't remember the exact year, but I drove over that bridge the day before it collapsed. Freaky shit.

>>12561176
I've heard of channel catfish that can grow to be ten feet long in the Mississippi. They've been documented at that size in the Mekong River Delta, but none in the US have been caught at those sizes. But you always hear about some underwater welder doing dam repairs, or some such, surfacing in a panic because they saw a five-foot-wide gaping maw lunging at them.

>>12561470
The bridge I'm talking about was the Silver Bridge that connected Ohio with West Virginia.

>>12561680
Many people said they saw the Mothman before the bridge collapsed.

Look up the Wendigo.

It's a monster from Ojibwa legend. It's like a mix between a lycanthrope and a vampire. It looks like a walking skeleton covered in tight sinew and wrapped in skin the color of ash. It has glowing red eyes and is constantly surrounded by a foul stench and a thick cloud of mosquitoes. It is driven by a never-ending hunger for human flesh, each time it feeds believing its hunger will be sated. But instead, it grows, and it's hunger grows with it for it can never be full.

Supposedly some Ojibwa are cursed from birth to be stricken with an inexplicable hunger for human flesh, and they are thought to be turning wendigo. The scietific name for this affliction is "Wendigo psychosis," and it is a culture-specific syndrome, but the old ones say it was the first step in eventually fleeing to the swamp and becoming a wendigo.

Supposedly, there were a couple sightings in the northern part of my home state long ago, but this was dismissed as the wild imagination of drunken Indians.

>>12558680
This guy ate people. He also danced in their skins and made household appliances out of their body parts. Is that enough local flavor for you?

Welcome to Wisconsin: Necrophilia - still not illegal!

>>12561244
which american tall tale are you interested in? Pecos bill, the legendary cowboy raised by coyotes? John Henry, the steel-driving railroad worker who united two coastlines? Johnny appleseed, who planted every apple orchard in the continental united states and defended settlements from native american attacks?

I actually live a few blocks down from the Winchester Mystery House.

>>12561821

We also have the OTHER famous serial killer who ate people. Go Wisconsin.

>>12564191
You have fifteen cannibals in your state's main prison.
There's something wrong with the cheese.

I don't know about more modern tall tales such as John Henry or Johnny Appleseed, but I have plenty of mythology crammed into my head.

Like Näcken (The Naked for lack of a better translation). He's a beautiful naked man who would sit in the middle of a creek and play the violin better than anyone. In fact, he plays so well that many people are drawn to his music, walk into the creek and drown.

In a similar vein is Bäckahästen (the Creek Horse), a horse that would let children ride on its back, only to leap into the creek and drown them. The only way to break its power is to throw a piece of steel between the horse and the water.

Hell, there's so much. Proper trolls with tails and skin made out of stone instead of this regenerating bullshit we have going on, grimdark fairies, and giants fucking with out geography.

>>12561064
Crockett is real, albeit legendary.
Like Daniel Webster.

Local huh?
Well, one for the Northwest is Chief Seattle. He allegedly said a bunch of stuff about environmentalism, but possibly didn't. At any rate, his tomb has a stupid number of offerings, and is a popular tourist destination.

Another Indian in the broad area is Captain Jack, chief of the Modoc indians in the famous siege of Captain Jacks Stronghold, a series of lava beds in which he held out with a small band of Indians against a rather larger band of U.S. cavalry, inflicting numerous casualties.

The overall Modoc war in which this occurred is notable for the ferocity of resistance, and the rare blatant murder of diplomats. It lasted for about a year, and saw something like one hundred and ten casualties (73 killed, 43 wounded) for the U.S., and about 17 for the Modoc. It also cost 400,000$ dollars. Also interesting is the fact that no more than 53 Modocs were ever actually fighting at one time. At various times, the army had as many as 400 or 530 men opposing them.

http://www.miaminewtimes.com/1997-06-05/news/myths-over-miami/

This is practically a sourcebook on its own.

>>12564320

CS is fucking awesome.

He got people to pay him for using his name for the city, on account if it probably bugging him when he was dead.

Aha, and then you have all the Indian legends.
Little people are a fairly common one, and then you have all the weird shit that was supposed to live in the lakes, like weird lobster things, spirit horses, spirit bears, ghosts of dead lovers, more weird lake monsters.

You also have Coyote. One story around here has him having a dream about seeing a beautiful girl bathing, and his penis growing like a snake towards her, only to get ran over by one of the white mans wagons.

In another story, he dances with a star, higher and higher, only to be dropped, falling miles and miles, and hitting the ground so hard that he creates a massive crater, filled with his blood, which eventually became water, long after he crawled away, and came to life again. This hole is Crater Lake.

What, no PAUL BUNYAN? The Giant of a man who, when wrestling with Blue, his giant Oxen, CREATED THE THOUSAND LAKES?

Also, La Llorona, the crying woman, is a popular local legend in my area. She haunts the banks of the Rio Grande weeping for her lost child. Children are drawn by her cries, and she drowns them. Sometimes older people see her in the moonlight, sometimes they get too close...

>>12564345

So fucking cool.

Well, if you're unfamiliar with John Henry, I'll fill you in with one of the more common versions:

Now John Henry was a mighty man, yes sir. He was born a slave in the 1840's but was freed after the war. He went to work as a steel-driver for the Chesapeake & Ohio Railroad, don't ya know. And John Henry was the strongest, the most powerful man working the rails.

John Henry, he would spend his day's drilling holes by hitting thick steel spikes into rocks with his faithful shaker crouching close to the hole, turning the drill after each mighty blow. There was no one who could match him, though many tried.

Well, the new railroad was moving along right quick, thanks in no little part to the mighty John Henry. But looming right smack in its path was a mighty enemy - the Big Bend Mountain. Now the big bosses at the C&O Railroad decided that they couldn't go around the mile and a quarter thick mountain. No sir, the men of the C&O were going to go through it - drilling right into the heart of the mountain.

A thousand men would lose their lives before the great enemy was conquered. It took three long years, and before it was done the ground outside the mountain was filled with makeshift, sandy graves. The new tunnels were filled with smoke and dust. Ya couldn't see no-how and could hardly breathe. But John Henry, he worked tirelessly, drilling with a 14-pound hammer, and going 10 to 12 feet in one workday. No one else could match him.

>>12564433

Then one day a salesman came along to the camp. He had a steam-powered drill and claimed it could out-drill any man. Well, they set up a contest then and there between John Henry and that there drill. The foreman ran that newfangled steam-drill. John Henry, he just pulled out two 20-pound hammers, one in each hand. They drilled and drilled, dust rising everywhere. The men were howling and cheering. At the end of 35 minutes, John Henry had drilled two seven foot holes - a total of fourteen feet, while the steam drill had only drilled one nine-foot hole.


John Henry held up his hammers in triumph! The men shouted and cheered. The noise was so loud, it took a moment for the men to realize that John Henry was tottering. Exhausted, the mighty man crashed to the ground, the hammer's rolling from his grasp. The crowd went silent as the foreman rushed to his side. But it was too late. A blood vessel had burst in his brain. The greatest driller in the C&O Railroad was dead.

Some folks say that John Henry's likeness is carved right into the rock inside the Big Bend Tunnel. And if you walk to the edge of the blackness of the tunnel, sometimes you can hear the sound of two 20-pound hammers drilling their way to victory over the machine.

I love "Odin is a dick" stories, so I think I'll post a few.

First up is the story of the Skald Mead. It was magic mead made from the blood of a giant, which would allow anyone who drank it to become a skald. This interested Odin, who decided he wanted some. Unfortunately, the mead was guarded by giants. He travelled to the home of the giants, where nine farmers were cutting wheat with scythes. Odin produced a whetstone and sharpened one of the scythes, which then cut through the wheat without any effort whatsoever. Naturally, all the farmers wanted the whetstone. Odin threw the whetstone into the air, at which point the farmers managed to kill each other in the ensuing struggle. Odin turned into a man named Bölverk, went up to the giants' house and told them of what had happened. He then said he would perform the work of nine men for some of the Skald Mead.

And so he did, but still the giants would not let him have the mead. One of them did take pity on him, however, and drilled a hole in the mountain where they lived. Bölverk turned into a snake and crawled inside. Once inside, he met with the youngest daughter, Gunnlöd. He slept with her for three nights, at which point she was so in love with him she agreed to let him have a sip of the mead. But Odin drank it all, turned into an eagle and flew away. He then told the other Aesir to bring out every tub they had and proceeded to throw up into the tubs. Some of the mead missed its target, though, and made its way into the human world.

And that's how we learned to rhyme.

I wish I knew more Anansi stories. That guy was a bro among bros.

Next up, a classic from Texas: Pecos Bill.

Well now Pecos Bill was born in the usual way to a real nice cowpoke and his wife who were journeying west with their eighteen children. Bill's Ma knew right from the start that he was something else. He started talkin' before he was a month old, did his teething on his Pa's bowie knife and rode his first horse jest as soon as he learned to sit up on his own. When he started to crawl, Pecos Bill would slither out of the wagon while his Mama was cookin' supper and wrestle with the bear cubs and other wild animals that roamed the prairies.

Yep, the whole family was expecting great things of little Bill; until they lost him in the drink. Seems they took the wagons over the Pecos River while Pecos Bill was taking a nap and he got bounced out of the back and swept downstream afore anyone missed him. If he hadn't taught himself to swim right-quick, he would have been a goner!

Right about the time Pecos Bill was drying out and trying to get a fix on where he was, a Mama Coyote came along and decided to adopt the poor waif and raise him with the rest of her pups. So Pecos Bill spent the first fifteen years of his life running around with the coyote pack, howling to the moon, chasing prey across the prairies, and having the time of his life.

Pecos Bill plumb forgot all about his real family, until the day he turned sixteen and his older brother came along. He was punchin' a herd of long-horn cattle and had brought them down to drink from the Pecos River. The ol' cowpoke took one look at Pecos Bill and knew he'd found his long-lost brother, on account of he looked jest like their Ma, who'd died of a broken heart after they lost little Bill in the river.

"See here, ain't you Pecos Bill, my little brother?" demanded the cowpoke of Pecos Bill when he came jumping over a giant log to run about in the field and howl at the full moon.

>>12564462
"Don't think so," said Pecos Bill. "I'm a coyote! Listen to me howl!" Pecos Bill let out a horrendous shout and scampered about the field on all fours. He scared the herd so bad that the long horns almost stampeded.

"You stop that!" Bill's brother shouted after he got the cattle calmed down. "And tell me this; how come you ain't got a long bushy tail if you're a coyote."

That was a tricky question. Pecos Bill thought about it for a long time.

"I got fleas," he volunteered. "And I howl at the moon!"

"Everybody in Texas has fleas and howls at the moon. That ain't no excuse," said his big brother. "Any how, you can walk upright like a normal person and you can talk too. That ain't what a coyote does."

"I guess you're right," said Pecos Bill.

"'Course I'm right. I'm your big brother and I outta know," snapped the cowpoke. "It's about time you stopped foolin' around on the prairie and became a cowboy like all the rest of us."

That made good sense to Pecos Bill. So he bid farewell to the coyote pack and went out west with his brother to learn to be a cowboy. Soon as he learned the ropes some, Pecos Bill began to realize that the cowboys needed some new tricks to help them cope with them stubborn longhorns. The cowboys kept getting the cows mixed up, which made the owners mad, so Pecos Bill invented the branding iron so they could put a mark on each cow telling everybody who owned it. Then he noticed that the other cowboys were having trouble making the wilder cows behave. Now whenever Pecos Bill saw a cow misbehavin', he'd jump on its back and ride it until it had bucked and kicked itself into behaving better. But the other cowboys weren't so skilled as Bill, so he invented the lasso to help them tame the wild cows.

Pecos Bill's brother was right proud of him. "Not bad for a kid raised by coyotes," he told his baby brother. "In another couple of years, you'll be the toughest cowboy in the world."

And he was right!

>>12564467
Now everyone in the West knows that Pecos Bill could ride anything. No bronco could throw him, no sir! Fact is, I only heard of Bill getting' throwed once in his whole career as a cowboy. Yep, it was that time he was up Kansas way and decided to ride him a tornado.

Now Bill wasn't gonna ride jest any tornado, no ma'am. He waited for the biggest gol-durned tornado you ever saw. It was turning the sky black and green, and roaring so loud it woke up the farmers away over in China. Well, Bill jest grabbed that there tornado, pushed it to the ground and jumped on its back. The tornado whipped and whirled and sidewinded and generally cussed its bad luck all the way down to Texas. Tied the rivers into knots, flattened all the forests so bad they had to rename one place the Staked Plains. But Bill jest rode along all calm-like, give it an occasional jab with his spurs.

Finally, that tornado decided it wasn't getting this cowboy off its back no-how. So it headed west to California and jest rained itself out. Made so much water it washed out the Grand Canyon. That tornado was down to practically nothing when Bill finally fell off. He hit the ground so hard it sank below sea level. Folks call the spot Death Valley.

Anyway, that's how rodeo got started. Though most cowboys stick to broncos these days.

>>12564474
Well now, Texas jest became too tame for Pecos Bill once he killed off all the bad men, so he struck out for New Mexico, looking for a hard outfit. He asked an old trapper he met on the way where he could find a hard outfit, and the trapper directed Bill to a place where the fellers bit nails in half for fun. It sounded like a promisin' place to Bill, so he set off. But his durned fool hoss got its neck broke on the way, and Bill found himself afoot.

Bill went a walkin' with his saddle on his back. Suddenly, he come face to face with a rattlesnake 'round about fifteen feet long and lookin' fer trouble. Now Bill wanted to be fair to the rattler, so he let it get in a few jabs before he beat the stuffin' out of it. Being a kind man, when the snake was beat, he picked it up, wrapped it around his neck and carried it along with him.

They was a headin' through a narrow canyon when a cougar thought he'd have a bit of fun and jumped them. Bill never turned a hair. He jest put down his saddle and then whipped the tarnation out of the cougar. Hair flew everywhere, blocking the light sose the jackrabbits thought it was night and went to bed. Finally that cat were so beat he cried like a lost kitten and jest licked Bill's hand.

So Bill saddles him up and they tear off across them hills like forked lightening. Whenever Bill wanted to calm that cougar down, he'd just give him a tap with the rattlesnake. They set such a pace that they soon rolled into the hard outfit the trapper'd told Bill about. Quick as a wink, Bill jumps off the cougar, helps himself to some beans and coffee, wipes his mouth with a prickly pear and turns to look at the toughs sittin' around the fire.

"Who's the boss around here, anyhow?" he asks.

"I was," said a big mountain of a feller about seven foot tall and wide, "but you are now, stranger!"

>>12564480
Now, Pecos Bill didn't live forever. Nope, not even Bill could figure out how to do that. Here's how he died.

When Bill was gettin' on in years, a Boston man came down to New Mexico for a visit. He fancied himself a bit of a cowboy. Got himself one of them mail-order suits, don't ya know. The ones with the lizard skin boots, a shiny brass belt buckle, a new pair of blue jeans and a huge ten gallon hat with not a speck of dust on it. Well, when Pecos Bill saw him trying to swagger into a bar, he jest lay down on the sidewalk and laughed himself to death!

>>12564443
I want more of this, it's golden

>>12564443
We learned to rhyme because a god missed his puke-bucket? I think you left something out?

Then there's the story of Thor and the ferryman.

On his way home after hunting giants, Thor came upon a lake. He yelled to the ferryman on the other side of the lake to come get him, but the ferryman replied that he had been instructed to only let reputable men across, and Thor was barefoot and looked like a peasant. So Thor explained that he was Thor, god of thunder, son of Odin, mightiest of all the Aesir. The ferryman said he had never heard of him. So Thor told him of his deeds. He caught the Midgard Serpent while on a fishing trip, he slew the giant Hrungnir whose head was made of stone, he even made the stars by hurling giants' eyes into the sky. The ferryman claimed he had performed far more impressive deeds, citing the many important and beautiful women he had conquered, often behind the backs of their husbands.

Eventually, the ferryman told Thor that while Odin gets the slain warriors and noblemen, only those of peasant blood belong to Thor. He then proceeded to call him a coward, and claimed Thor's wife Sif is cheating on him. When Thor finally snapped, the ferryman said that if Thor had simply walked around the lake instead of arguing with him, he would have been on the other side by now. A disgruntled Thor was forced to walk around the lake as the ferryman revealed himself to have been Odin all along.

Odin is a giant dick.

>>12564524
A 'Skald' is a norse poet/bard. Specialized in writing epic poems and recording great battles in song. Odin spilling some of the magic mead to earth allowed mortals the gift of song and poetry.

But stories about Odin and his sons are great. Keep them coming.

>>12564524
He puked the mead into the buckets. The mead was Skald Mead. A skald is a teller of stories, singer and general entertainer. Their most important skill was the ability to rhyme and come up with analogies, and they were highly prized by noblemen. Our ability to rhyme was a result of some of the mead missing the bucket and dripping into the human world.

>>12564524
He puked out mead that turned people into skalds.
Skalds have something to do with poetry.

>>12564542
Fuck yes, Odin!

>>12564549
>>12564557
>>12564559
OH, well... NOW it makes sense. Thank you. I thought Skald was an elf or something.

Downtown Charleston, SC has a thriving industry on local legends. We have war stories (the Civil War started here), ghost stories (enough to fuel a thriving Ghost Tour industry- when walking downtown, chances are you're standing over a body buried within the past 400 years), pirate stories (including Blackbeard), and all other kinds of crazy shit. We also have music-playing bums who engage in showdowns to get the most money.

Well now, that rascal Brer Fox hated Brer Rabbit on account of he was always cutting capers and bossing everyone around. So Brer Fox decided to capture and kill Brer Rabbit if it was the last thing he ever did! He thought and he thought until he came up with a plan. He would make a tar baby! Brer Fox went and got some tar and he mixed it with some turpentine and he sculpted it into the figure of a cute little baby. Then he stuck a hat on the Tar Baby and sat her in the middle of the road.

Brer Fox hid himself in the bushes near the road and he waited and waited for Brer Rabbit to come along. At long last, he heard someone whistling and chuckling to himself, and he knew that Brer Rabbit was coming up over the hill. As he reached the top, Brer Rabbit spotted the cute little Tar Baby. Brer Rabbit was surprised. He stopped and stared at this strange creature. He had never seen anything like it before!

"Good Morning," said Brer Rabbit, doffing his hat. "Nice weather we're having."

The Tar Baby said nothing. Brer Fox laid low and grinned an evil grin.

>>12564639
Brer Rabbit tried again. "And how are you feeling this fine day?"

The Tar Baby, she said nothing. Brer Fox grinned an evil grin and lay low in the bushes.

Brer Rabbit frowned. This strange creature was not very polite. It was beginning to make him mad.

"Ahem!" said Brer Rabbit loudly, wondering if the Tar Baby were deaf. "I said 'HOW ARE YOU THIS MORNING?"

The Tar Baby said nothing. Brer Fox curled up into a ball to hide his laugher. His plan was working perfectly!

"Are you deaf or just rude?" demanded Brer Rabbit, losing his temper. "I can't stand folks that are stuck up! You take off that hat and say 'Howdy-do' or I'm going to give you such a lickin'!"

The Tar Baby just sat in the middle of the road looking as cute as a button and saying nothing at all. Brer Fox rolled over and over under the bushes, fit to bust because he didn't dare laugh out loud.

"I'll learn ya!" Brer Rabbit yelled. He took a swing at the cute little Tar Baby and his paw got stuck in the tar.

"Lemme go or I'll hit you again," shouted Brer Rabbit. The Tar Baby, she said nothing.

"Fine! Be that way," said Brer Rabbit, swinging at the Tar Baby with his free paw. Now both his paws were stuck in the tar, and Brer Fox danced with glee behind the bushes.

"I'm gonna kick the stuffin' out of you," Brer Rabbit said and pounced on the Tar Baby with both feet. They sank deep into the Tar Baby. Brer Rabbit was so furious he head-butted the cute little creature until he was completely covered with tar and unable to move.

Brer Fox leapt out of the bushes and strolled over to Brer Rabbit. "Well, well, what have we here?" he asked, grinning an evil grin.

Brer Rabbit gulped. He was stuck fast. He did some fast thinking while Brer Fox rolled about on the road, laughing himself sick over Brer Rabbit's dilemma.

>>12564655
"I've got you this time, Brer Rabbit," said Brer Fox, jumping up and shaking off the dust. "You've sassed me for the very last time. Now I wonder what I should do with you?"

Brer Rabbit's eyes got very large. "Oh please Brer Fox, whatever you do, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"Maybe I should roast you over a fire and eat you," mused Brer Fox. "No, that's too much trouble. Maybe I'll hang you instead."

"Roast me! Hang me! Do whatever you please," said Brer Rabbit. "Only please, Brer Fox, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"If I'm going to hang you, I'll need some string," said Brer Fox. "And I don't have any string handy. But the stream's not far away, so maybe I'll drown you instead."

"Drown me! Roast me! Hang me! Do whatever you please," said Brer Rabbit. "Only please, Brer Fox, please don't throw me into the briar patch."

"The briar patch, eh?" said Brer Fox. "What a wonderful idea! You'll be torn into little pieces!"

Grabbing up the tar-covered rabbit, Brer Fox swung him around and around and then flung him head over heels into the briar patch. Brer Rabbit let out such a scream as he fell that all of Brer Fox's fur stood straight up. Brer Rabbit fell into the briar bushes with a crash and a mighty thump. Then there was silence.

Brer Fox cocked one ear toward the briar patch, listening for whimpers of pain. But he heard nothing. Brer Fox cocked the other ear toward the briar patch, listening for Brer Rabbit's death rattle. He heard nothing.

Then Brer Fox heard someone calling his name. He turned around and looked up the hill. Brer Rabbit was sitting on a log combing the tar out of his fur with a wood chip and looking smug.

"I was bred and born in the briar patch, Brer Fox," he called. "Born and bred in the briar patch."

And Brer Rabbit skipped away as merry as a cricket while Brer Fox ground his teeth in rage and went home.

>>12564577
You know, I really think that modern media tends to ignore the most awesome part of Odin, namely that he was a dick and a womanizer. It's pretty much his defining traits apart from wisdom. And unlike Zeus, he frequently brags about fucking women and enjoys being a dick because he's smarter than everyone else.

Now, this story is mostly of the "Loki is a dick" variety, but Odin gets to be a dick at the end, so bear with it.

One day Odin, Loki and Thor were out walking the world when they came across three cows. Thor was hungry and slaughtered one of the cows and began to roast its meat. But no matter how long he let the flames caress it, it would not cook. At this point, the owner of the cows, a giant named Tjatse arrived in the shape of an eagle. He told the gods that the meat would not cook until he got his share. The gods agreed, and Tjatse ate the whole cow, saying that it was his cow, and so all the meat belonged to him.

This enraged all three gods, but Loki most of all. He grabbed a tree branch and tried to hit the eagle. But Tjatse grabbed the branch and flew away with Loki. Fearing for his life, Loki threatened Tjatse, saying he was the mighty Loki, but Tjatse didn't believe him, saying his great grandfather had played with Loki as a child. Loki explained that he'd been given one of Idun's apples every year, halting his aging. Tjatse convinced Loki that he would get all of his gold if he provided him with these apples. Loki reluctantly agreed.

So Loki stole the apples, but Tjatse would not give him his gold, laughing as he flew away. The gods were naturally angry with Loki, as they all started aging rapidly. To save his life, Loki claimed he had fallen in love with the giant's daughter, but he could only marry her if he gave Tjatse the apples. The gods agreed that they would let Loki off the hook this time, since he had done it for love.

>>12564685
CONTINUE

>>12564685
It was decided that Thor and Loki would travel to Tjalve's home and return the apples as well as his daughter. The apples were returned after Thor threatened to bash his head in, but he would not give up his daughter. This was fortunate for Loki, but Thor told her that Loki was desperately in love with her, and Loki could not reveal his lie.

So Loki was forced to sneak into Tjatse's home at night to bring the goddess Idun with him. He turned her into a nut, put her in his pocket and flew away in the shape of a bird. However, Tjatse's daughter was enraged, asking Loki if he was going to cheat on her before they were even married. This awoke her father, who was hot on Loki's trail, as his mighty eagle form was faster. All the gods were too old to see or hear Tjatse approaching, and could do nothing to stop him. Fortunately, a young human child named Tjalve saw the giant and lit a great pyre. The eagle flew into the flames and burned to death, and his daughter wept.

It was decided that since the gods had made her an orphan, Tjalve's daughter would get to marry whatever god she wanted. This would be decided by her picking the one with the nicest legs. Fearing he would be chosen, Loki smeared his legs with tar. She picked Njord instead of Loki, but for his lies, Odin came up with a punishment for the trickster god. He would tie an unbreakable string to a prancing goat, and the other end to Loki's dick. He would never be able to stop, lest he would lose his manhood forever.

And that is why you don't mess with Odin.

>>12564734
>Tjalve's daughter
Is supposed to be Tjatse's daughter, of course. Tjalve was much to young to have a daughter.

>>12564734
Sauce? I don't recall that one. There's plenty of other DO NOT FUCK WITH MOTHERFUCKING ODIN stories though. Or fuck with Thor for that matter. Motherfucker kicked a giant into his brother's funeral pyre just because he was pissed off.

>>12564747
It's from a book on Norse mythology I have sitting in front of me. One of my bros is a history teacher and was kind enough to lend it to me. Don't really know the original source, though.

Speaking of Thor being a badass, there are two very famous stories surrounding him. Thor's fishing trip, and his marriage. I'll start with the fishing trip.

Thor and Tyr were visiting Tyr's father in law, the giant Hymer, to borrow his cauldron, which was said to be several miles deep and big enough to boil the ocean. Hymer's wife told them that they should hide behind the other cauldrons until Hymer came home. However, Hymer instantly noticed something was off, and his fiery gaze shattered every cauldron but the Sea Boiler, revealing the gods.

Despite being fairly pissed, Hymer invited the gods for supper on the condition Thor go with him on a fishing trip. Thor agreed. However, Hymer was thrifty and told Thor he would need to get his own bait. So Thor walked into the giant's fields, grabbed the biggest bull he could find by the head and broke its neck.

And so the giants and Thor rowed their boat onto the sea. When they were so far out that they could no longer see the land, the giants wanted to stop. But Thor kept rowing. By the time he had stopped, Hymer had already caught several whales, and he mocked Thor.

So Thor put the bull on his hook and threw it into the ocean. After a while, he felt a bite and started reeling the fish in. However, it turned out the fish was actually the Midgard Serpent, the monstrous beast that circled the entire world. Hymer was frightened and cut the line, fearing the serpent would drag them all under the sea. This enraged Thor so much he threw the giant into the sea and forced him to swim home. The struggle between Thor and serpent had been so great that Thor's feet had went right through the bottom of the boat.

Do you have the one where Thor gets his hammer back and kicks some giant ass in a dress?

>>12564805
Back on shore, Hymer told Thor that he may be a great fisherman, but no man was strong enough to break his glass chalice. Try as he might, Thor could not break the chalice. That is until he threw the chalice at Hymer's forehead, which was as hard as iron. The chalice shattered, and Thor took the Sea Boiler cauldron and left.

After a while Tyr told him that they were being pursued by angry giants who wanted vengeance for all the stuff Thor had wrecked. So Thor put the cauldron down, slew every giant, brought the cauldron home and made a meat stew the likes of which had never been seen.

Quite a bro.

>>12564810
That was the one I was getting to. Probably the most famous Thor story there is, this is the story of how Mjolnir was stolen.

One day, Thor wakes up to find that Mjolnir is missing. This makes him very upset, as the magic hammer is the reason the Aesir have the upper hand against the giants. As he and his wife Sif look for the hammer, Sif finds a golden ring with the inscription Thrym. Thrym was a mighty giant king. Thor borrows Loki's bird form and flies to Thrym's castle in Jotunheim.

Thrym instantly admits to stealing Mjolnir, and says he will give it back if he can marry Freyja, the most beautiful of the goddesses. The Aesir try their best to convince Freyja to marry Thrym, but she refuses. Then Balder suggests that Freyja could pretend to marry Thrym, take Mjolnir and just leave. When Thor hears that a woman would touch his hammer, he is enraged and decides to do it himself. And so he dresses up as Freyja, with Loki and Thor's servant Tröske as his bridesmaids. Tjalve is brought along as their escort.

On their way to the wedding, the gods stop to have a meal with giants attending the wedding. Everyone is amazed by Freyja's drinking, to which Loki replies that she is nervous about the wedding. One of the giants pinches Thor's ass, which enrages him so much that he punches the giant clean through the roof, which further impresses the other giants.

>>12564878
At the wedding, some of the giants recognize Thor despite his disguise. Loki manages to convince them that each of them has a grudge against Thrym and to hold their tongues, however.

When sneaking around Thrym's castle, Thor is caught by some of the gods, and is told to do the dishes. When it's time to pay the dishwashers, Thor doesn't get anything as "Freyja" is going to be Thrym's wife, and this is his duty. This makes him so angry he starts swearing. This alerts Thrym's sister, who goes to warn her brother. But it's too late. Thrym is smitten with his bride, who has the broadest shoulders, the most golden locks and the strongest arms of any woman he has ever met. He offers her the hammer Mjolnir to impress her, and puts it in her lap. As soon as he picks up the hammer, Thor reveals his true identity and slays every single giant, starting with Thrym, all the while dressed like a bride.

>>12564805
Could I by chance have an ISBN or the book title? I <3 Norse Mythology. Got me a copy of the Poetic Edda a while back.

>>12564931
Unfortunately, the only one that is available in a language other than Swedish is a book known as Gods and Myths of Northern Europe, by Hilda R. Ellis Davidson. Quite informative, but more of an academic book than a collection of awesome stories.

>>12564961
Thank you. I enjoy more academic versions anyways, I have a copy of The Poetic Edda translated by Lee M. Hollander, which is quite nice and annotated, but a rough read, due to the sheer amount of funky old norse words.

>>12564961
Could I get any value out of it just knowing english and german?

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>>12564981
The book is written in English, so I'd definitely say so. Includes a lot of fun facts, like the origin of the weekdays, which pretty much every country in the world took from us. Thursday, for example, is Thor's day.

>>12565012
I meant the swedish ones

My girlfriend is a descendant of Johnny Appleseed's family. His story is actually pretty fucking sad.

Had a woman he was gonna marry, she died, so he traveled around America planting Apple trees, because her favorite flower was the Apple Blossom. He was a traveling salesman btw, and he did wear shoes.

>>12565016
Ah, that makes a whole lot more sense. No. Absolutely not. While we have quite a few parts of our language in common with German, it won't help you at all. At best you'd recognize a few words, maybe be able to string together a sentence or two.

.>>12565022
Not exactly. And he had rather... heterdox views on love and sex, even for his own period. Born John Chapman. Was a religious nut, like St. Francis but of a weird protestant sect.

>>12564912
>>12564878
This is especially entertaining due to the layers of metaphor found in it. The reason Thor is able to disguise himself as a woman and get away with it is because his manhood was stolen. In this case, the manhood was his hammer.

You will never look at that story the same way again.

Now, for another little folk legend, this one from the Sámi people that I grew up near.

Back in the day where farming was important and everyone out in the country needed to live off of their own production abilities, butter was seen as an important luxury. It went on a lot of stuff, you could cook with it, and it improved flavor and gave good energy. This was, however, dependent upon the state of your animals. If they were poor, you wouldn't have too much.

Some people, however, always seemed to have butter, even if their animals were in terrible shape. They did this by means of a butter-cat. A butter cat was a specially made cat of yarn. You got one by making it out of yarn, and then selling half of your soul to the devil. It would go around, stealing your neighbor's butter, and there was nothing they could do but hope the devil reneged on his deal.

Gordon the tramp.

Always knows exactly what time of day it is, but never wears a watch. He is accurate to within a minute.

The Norse are also the origin of the word nightmare, or nattmara, as they referred to it.

The story goes that men would wake up screaming in the middle of the night, breathing heavily and sweating. This is because evil female spirits known as nightmares snuck into their rooms at night and "rode" them. This would leave the man drained of his life essence, and could be fatal. There were all kinds of protection against nightmares, with the most common being to put your shoes down facing away from the bed, as nightmares could only enter your bed if they had first stepped into your shoes.

>>12565058
It gets even worse when you realize the only reason he dresses up as a woman is because he doesn't want a woman touching his manhood.

There are three more stories that I would consider the most famous in Norse mythology. Loki's bet, Tyr and the Fenris Wolf, and Odin and the Well of Mimer.

Anyone interested?

>>12565373
By all means, go ahead.

What's the name/author of the Swedish Books?
Also Loki's Bet is awesome.

Have you ever watched Stan Lee's Superhumans?

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Stan_Lee%27s_Superhumans

>>12565479
Okay, I will. This is the story of Tyr and the Fenris Wolf.

Loki had three monstrous children, Hel, goddess of the underworld, the Midgard Serpent, a sea monster so massive it circled the entire world, and the Fenris Wolf, the largest, fiercest and most vicious wolf to ever exist.

Finally, the gods decided that the Fenris Wolf had to be chained, as it caused too much trouble to allow to roam freely. They tie him up with the strongest chain they can find, but it breaks. They then create an even stronger chain, but it is also broken with no effort. So the gods send Heimdall to ask the dwarves for a chain powerful enough to hold the Fenris Wolf.

The dwarves comply, and Heimdall watches as the dwarves bang their hammers against invisible anvils, creating something he cannot see. Finally, they present him with a thread so thin he can barely see it, despite having the best eyesight of all the gods. The dwarves explain that this is because the chain is made from a cat's footfalls, a woman's beard, the roots of a mountain, the sinews of a bear, the breath of a fish and the spittle of bird. The process used up all of these things, however, which is why they no longer exist.

Heimdall returns with the chain to Valhalla, where all the gods doubt it will be able to hold the Fenris Wolf, Thor in particular. So Freyja and Idun secretly tied one end of the chain to Thor and the other to a table. As Thor tries to leave, he drags the heavy stone table after him, and the laughing gods acknowledge that the chain would hold.

>>12565558
But getting the chain around the neck of the Fenris Wolf would be difficult. The only one who dared get close to it was Tyr, who had been feeding it since it was young. The Fenris Wolf would only allow him to put the chain around its neck on the condition Tyr placed his hand in its mouth as insurance, which he did. When the Fenris Wolf realized he could not free himself from the chain, he bit Tyr's hand clean off in his rage, and from that point on the wrist was known as the "wolf joint".

This is the story of Loki's bet.

Loki, being the jackass that he was, cut off Sif's hair in her sleep. Naturally, Thor was pissed that Loki had made his wife bald and threatened to kill him unless he could fix it somehow. So Loki managed to get the dwarves to create even more beautiful hair out of gold for her. They also created Baldr's ship Skidbladner and Odin's spear Gungnir. The gods were very impressed with these items, and Loki boasted that no blacksmith in the world could create more wondrous treasures.

It was at this point that the dwarf Brokk bet Loki that he could create more wonderful items. If he won, he could have Loki's head. Loki accepted, and Brokk went to work.

In order to sabotage Brokk, Loki turned into a fly and repeatedly stung Brokk, but the dwarf did not care. He finished despite Loki's distractions, and presented the gods with three magnificent treasures. The golden boar Gullinbursti, the golden ring Draupnir, which constantly created more copies of itself, and Thor's hammer Mjolnir.

The gods all agreed that these treasures were even more wonderful than the other three and that Loki had lost the bet. But when Brokk came to collect Loki's head, he said that while he had won his head fair and square, they had never mentioned anything about the neck, and so Brokk couldn't collect his prize.

The angry dwarf then sewed Loki's mouth shut so that he could not brag again.

I will tell you the story of how the birds gained their colours.

In the dreamtime, all birds were dark, and black, and colourless. All except the dove, who had every colour of the rainbow touching his feathers.

All of the other, colorless birds loved his colours, and he had many admirers. All except the crow, who left whenever he saw the dove, jealous as he was.

One day, he was out hunting for grubs, and spied one. He swooped down for it, but instead of catching the grub, he speared his foot on a stick. He was unable to remove it himself, and grew very ill.

The other birds surrounded him, as his foot swelled up, and he grew delirious, even as they brought him food and water. The crow called out to them, telling them that it was hopeless, and that they should leave. They told him to go, and he left, with his hands behind his back.

All seemed lost for the dove, when the parrot had an idea. He lunged foward, and burst the sore on the doves foot. From it, amongst the blood and pus burst the doves colours, splashing on all of the surrounded birds. Some got spots, some got stripes, some got many colours, and some got only a few. All received some colours, except the selfish crow, who left. The doves amazing colours bled from his body, until little colour remained on him.

And from that day foward, all birds had colours.

>>12565633
>the golden ring Draupnir, which constantly created more copies of itself
Von Neumann jewlery

>>12565633
>he said that while he had won his head fair and square, they had never mentioned anything about the neck, and so Brokk couldn't collect his prize
Loki confirmed for rules lawyer.

>>12565707
Hey was the patron god of tricksters, thieves, and the clever. Of course he was a rules lawyer.

rolled 88 = 88

bump

>>12565058
Holy shit the Sami are awesome. I want a buttercat now.

>>12565634

This is hilarious, because in other spectrums of light, crows look like goddamn rainbows.

Canadian one that some Americans might know, about the Maid of the Mist:

She lost her husband and her hope at a young age, and the beautiful girl could not find her way through the sorrow upon sorrow that was her lot in life. So she stepped one day into her canoe, singing a death song softly to herself, and paddle out into the current. Soon the canoe was caught by the rough waves and hurtled toward the falls. But as it pitched over and she fell, Heno, the god of thunder who lived in the falls, caught the maiden gently in his arms and carried her to his home beneath the thundering veil of water.

>>12567804

Heno and his sons ministered to the grieving girl, and she stayed with them until her heart healed within her. Then the younger son spoke words of love to the maiden and they married, to the delight of the god of thunder. A young son was born to the couple, and he followed his grandfather everywhere, learning what it meant to be a god of thunder.

The only shadow on the happiness of the maiden in the mist was a continual longing to see her people one more time. Her chance came in an unexpected and unwelcome way. A great snake came down the mighty river and poisoned the waters of her people. They grew sick and were dying. Soon the snake would return to devour the dead until my people were all gone. It was Heno himself who gave her the news, and she begged that she might return for one hour to warn her people of the danger. The god himself lifted her through the falls and set her down among her people to give warning about the evil snake that was causing such pestilence among them. She advised them to move to a higher country until the danger was past, and they agreed. Then Heno came and took the maiden back to her husband and her home.

>>12567814

In a few days, the giant serpent returned to the village, seeking the bodies of those who had died from the poison it had spread. When the snake realized that the people had deserted the village, it hissed in rage and turned upstream to search for them. But Heno heard the voice of the serpent and rose up through the mist of the falls. He threw a great thunderbolt at the creature and killed it in one mighty blast. The giant body of the creature floated downstream and lodged just above the cataract, creating a large semi-circle that deflected huge amounts of water into the falls at the place just above the god's home. Horrified by this disastrous turn of events, Heno swept in through the falls and did his best to stop the massive influx of water, but it was too late.

Seeing that his home would soon be destroyed, Heno called for the maiden and his sons to come away with him. The younger son caught up his wife and child and followed Heno through the water of the falls and up into the sky, where the Thunderer made them a new home. From this place, they watch over the people of the earth, while Heno thunders in the clouds as he once thundered in the vapors of the great falls. To this day, an echo of the Heno's voice can be heard in the thunder of the mighty waters of Niagara Falls.

I don't have anything as fancy as stories of Odin, but I'll tell you a local tale anyways.

The Leatherman

A quiet Frenchman, or possibly French-Canadian, he made a 365 mile circuit of around 40 towns on the Connecticut-New York border. He was so named the Leatherman due to the handmade suit, hat, and shoes he had were all patched together from leather scraps. Though fluent in french, he rarely communicated beyond grunts and gestures, and didn't like using his broken english. On questions of his past and background, he would refuse to answer.

He never stopped his route until his death, and was so regular in his passings that people would often have extra food ready for when he came through town.

10 towns gave him legal exemption from the "tramp laws" that were in place to discourage vagabonds.

His caves still exist in the woods. I had the opportunity to visit one once. I felt like I was disturbing some silence that hadn't been broken in years.

An English one, Spring Heeled Jack.
http://www.blackcatpress.co.uk/Spring_Heeled_Jack_Page.htm