From First Axe

While juicing cranberries in preparation for brewing the 
Ceremonial Beer this evening, I was once again struck by 
the Beauty of Ragnarok. Consider the cranberries. Some 
met their doom in the juicer bravely; they were annhilated
utterly. Others attempted to flee, trying to jump out of 
the juicer with small bits missing, like a mouse caught in 
the chamber of a Cuisinart; most bounced against the plunger 
and simply met the same doom twice, while others fled the 
machine entirely -- I pursued them and they met the same 
doom as the others. When the juicing was done, there were 
no cranberries left -- just juice and pulp.

So it is with the unEnlightened at Ragnarok. None shall 
survive that day; their blood shall flow into the earth, and 
their corpses shall ferment (or rot; please excuse the poetic 
license).

Ragnarok is coming. Be there.