


By permanently fixing it to my skin, it showed my appreciation for the things in life, both good and bad, that are beyond our personal agency and control. My teenage self would say the valknut was an odinic symbol of sacrifice and fate. In retrospect, I suppose my perception was pretty standard. This younger, less discriminating version of myself went down to my local tattoo parlor, and asked for a dotwork valknut on my forearm, which I got. You may find some solace from my iconoclastic rampage in the fact that I am one of you.Īt the age of 18 I found myself in the blissful and rare situation of having few financial commitments, yet an abundance of spare cash. This demographic makes for a significant chunk of my reader base, and if you are one of these people, then please bear with me. The uncountable masses who wear it as a pin on their jacket. Who sold t-shirts, and those who bought them. This may be a shocking and provocative statement to make in the face of the thousands of people who have the so-called valknut symbol tattooed, even branded, or carved into their skin. More importantly: No evidence connects the name to the symbol pictured above. The valknut, a staple not only of the study of Norse religion, but of modern heathenry and neopaganism as well, is actually an entirely spurious term: There is no evidence for a “knot of the slain” in any Norse source whatsoever.
