It only takes a tiny permutation for Garm, the name of Hel's dog, to become Gram, the name of the sword forged by Völund with which Sigurd killed Fáfnir.
Garm, the Policeman (whether he is in the mode "poor who frightens the poor" or "mercenary who kills whites in the Bataclan"), is an aborted warrior, or degraded to the point of excrement, as evidenced by his hatred of Týr d'Ásgard. But nothing exists that can't be repaired - and nothing that can't be destroyed - in the blink of an eye...
The Crossroads is perpetual: we have seen the horrors of war change from knights to chop-shop guards and from shabby hock-cutters to heroes of the Resistance.
The "zero to hero" is a matter of a moment: there is only one typo from Garm to Gram - but Gram itself ends up broken by the great Wotan, our master, forced to have Sigmund - his own son - killed by Hunding - a mediocre old man. The mixture of Scalde and Berseker that is our human ideal, put to death by a liberal kombini-reading boomer, because the war eliminates the best.
Now, there is only war: the choice between Garm (consenting to low works in exchange for a bowl at a fixed time, and the servile comfort of not having to think anymore) and Gram (opting for heroism, that is to say, for sacrifice), this choice, I say, arises to us every second: in our Siðr (the sword represents Ziu ᛪ/ the dog represents the individual disconnected from the Divine) - in our conjugal, family, or community life - and even in our shopping (which, in liberal economy, are the only worthy vote).
This is where Býleist comes to the aid of his nephew Fenrir: nothing is more testing for our inertia than this constant dilemma - and the Tyrant's sledgehammer argument is that he solves it: "secularism", i.e., "secularism". State atheism (no spiritual struggles) - destruction of the family (no responsibilities) - universalism (whether we call it Catholic Church, Communist International, or New World Order), i.e. refugees welcome (no concern for preserving the existence of our people, nor the future of our children) - in the hope, in the end, of imposing the economy of plan, which dispenses the buyer from the embarrassment of choice...
Fenrir wants you "him in less good", i.e. dogs, i.e. Garm: Zero Heroes, in return for which your salary will be force reliefs in every way: chicken bones, pigeon bones, not to mention many caresses [The reading of the fable The Wolf and the Dog is indispensable to the understanding of the Garm/Gram mystery!!].
To give up Gram - the sword that kills Fáfnir - is to desert. And the Siðvenja says that the deserter is buried alive: < The coward thinks he will live forever if he keeps away from battles, but old age will deprive him of the Peace that a spear would have given him. > (Há, 16) and will catch Azheimer because who would not want to forget what he did not do?