Eowyn and The Witch King of Angmar


Geeking out on Tolkien brings me back to his most popular work, The Lord of the Rings. I got so geeked up I did a search for my favorite character of the novel, Eowyn. Here’s a rendition of the great scene from the Battle of Pelennor fields. She fulfills her destiny. There’s more I’ll have to say about her later.

Three Great Tales

They had shown the entire on Lord of the Rings trilogy on TBS. I also own the first set of DVDs of the movies. I can’t wait for the latest book from the Tolkien estate, The Children of Hurin. It is supposedly one of the three Great Tales that Tolkien had planned on writing about the First Age of Middle Earth. (That sentence will go over the heads of the you out there.) The three are The Children of Hurin, The Fall of Gondolin, and Beren & Luthien. All are supposed tales passed down from the Numenoreans about the great men of the First Age. Surprisingly enough none concern the First Children, the elves. They are somewhat connected (Luthien being the most beautiful of all Illuvatar’s children as an elf maiden), but the central character revolves around men.

They are epic stories to tell. If you haven’t read the Silmarillion, you’re missing out. It contains condensed versions of these tales. They’re all great to read as is knowing the history of the First Age of Middle Earth.

My favorite has always been Beren & Luthien. It’s actually written as a poem and it’s real title is the Lay of Leithan. It tells the tale of Beren of the house of Beor, the first house of man, and his quest to wrench a Silmaril from the crown of Morgoth as the price for the marriage to Luthien. He succeeds.

The Children of Hurin is also a favorite since reading it in the form of the Narn i Hin Hurin in Unfinished Tales. This one more sadder. Turin a great warrior who happiness eludes him. Hurin, his father, witness to Turin’s fate from the eves of Thangorodrim watches as the curse of Morgoth robs his family of peace and happiness. Morwen, his mother, has felt a loss unbearable. Turin suffering the greatest curse with his sister. He also kills Glaurung. Great tale. Yet sad.

The Fall of Gondolin is hard to assemble, because it comes in pieces. The tale is of Tuor, kinsman to Turin, who escapes the fate of man. He secures himself a place in the last elven kingdom of Gondolin in the twilight of the First Age. Through him the savior of the Children of Illuvatar in Beleriand is born. Yet, it is an incomplete tale.

Now all three should be a movie. I would like to see it as an animated one. I haven’t geeked out enough on Tolkien hoping that you’ll read these other works of his.

Learning to drive

An outtake from the 100K shoot

I’ve posted about the problems with my car in the past month. The problem has been diagnosed and a solution had been implemented, but I hesitate to drive it. I have a feeling at any moment it’s going to experience the same issues. It’s not that she has become unreliable, but that the trust between us has broken. So in order to regain that trust again, I have to learn how to drive all once more.

Before my driving style was slightly aggressive: 80 mph on the highway, living in the left lane, shooting the gaps when needed, taking her to the redline on occasion. This was just the trust I felt with my car. She can do it, and I won’t let anything bad happen to her.

Well, she can’t always do it. She’s showing her age and probably needed to be treated a little bit more gently.

So I’ve slowed down, and it is strange. I keep up with the traffic, but I don’t like hanging out in the left lane anymore. The RPMS barely make it past 3750. No quick starts off the line. No boost. It’s all caution from here on out.

Being slower makes it some what safer, but I am still not confident about her. She’ll do. I wonder what this will do for my gas mileage?

Holiday Movie Post

I’ve seen several of the films that have come out during this holiday season. They reinforce the fact that movies suck. I need a hiatus. You may also want to take a hiatus.

The Holiday. I am waiting for Nancy Myers to direct a Nora Ephron screenplay. Then I am waiting for Nora Ephron to direct a Nancy Myers screenplay. Then I will die.

2 of 5 stars.

Blood Diamond. Diamonds are forever. And so is the grief it causes to the African nations which mine them. At least there was action in this film. Something missing in these that I had seen.

3 of 5 stars.

The Good Shepherd. Long and involved. I have nothing bad to say about it, because they’re listening. (All hail the mighty CIA. Thanks for protecting America!) I have nothing good either.

3 of 5 stars.

The Pursuit of Happyness. Will Smith wants an Oscar badly.

3 of 5 stars.

Football Playoffs

The local sports team, the Ravens, locked up a playoff berth. They may have home field advantage for the playoffs if they can convince the SD Chargers to lose their final game. Good luck.

As you listen to the sports pundits of the aspect of college football’s BCS mess you have to also wonder if the NFL’s playoff is a mess as well. The AFC has the best teams in terms of records. They may have a couple teams with decent records miss the playoffs. The NFC has plenty of teams with absolutely mediocre records of 8-8 and are locks for playoff berths. Is it fair to those AFC teams? Can the sports pundits whine about this as well? Isn’t this what the playoff system will bring to college football?

Imagine if the NFL had only polling to indicate which 2 best teams play for the national title. Then the Ravens play the SD Chargers. I would probably find tons of sports pundits to agree that these are the two most deserving of a chance to play for the national title. Fuck them. That’s how it should be.

Merry Christmas

Running to the window, he opened it, and put out his
head. No fog, no mist; clear, bright, jovial, stirring, cold;
cold, piping for the blood to dance to; Golden sunlight;
Heavenly sky; sweet fresh air; merry bells. Oh, glorious!
Glorious!

“What’s to-day!” cried Scrooge, calling downward to a
boy in Sunday clothes, who perhaps had loitered in to look
about him.

“EH?” returned the boy, with all his might of wonder.

“What’s to-day, my fine fellow?” said Scrooge.

“To-day!” replied the boy. “Why, CHRISTMAS DAY.”

“It’s Christmas Day!” said Scrooge to himself. “I
haven’t missed it. The Spirits have done it all in one night.
They can do anything they like. Of course they can. Of
course they can. Hallo, my fine fellow!”

“Hallo!” returned the boy.

“Do you know the Poulterer’s, in the next street but one,
at the corner?” Scrooge inquired.

“I should hope I did,” replied the lad.

“An intelligent boy!” said Scrooge. “A remarkable boy!
Do you know whether they’ve sold the prize Turkey that
was hanging up there?–Not the little prize Turkey: the
big one?”

“What, the one as big as me?” returned the boy.

“What a delightful boy!” said Scrooge. “It’s a pleasure
to talk to him. Yes, my buck!”

“It’s hanging there now,” replied the boy.

“Is it?” said Scrooge. “Go and buy it.”

“Walk-ER!” exclaimed the boy.

“No, no,” said Scrooge, “I am in earnest. Go and buy
it, and tell ’em to bring it here, that I may give them the
direction where to take it. Come back with the man, and
I’ll give you a shilling. Come back with him in less than
five minutes and I’ll give you half-a-crown!”

The boy was off like a shot. He must have had a steady
hand at a trigger who could have got a shot off half so fast.

“I’ll send it to Bob Cratchit’s!” whispered Scrooge,
rubbing his hands, and splitting with a laugh. “He sha’n’t
know who sends it. It’s twice the size of Tiny Tim. Joe
Miller never made such a joke as sending it to Bob’s
will be!”

Eat, drink and enjoy this wonderful day. Go to church if you believe. And even if you don’t.

God, bless us, everyone!

It’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas

Another excerpt from everyone’s favorite Christmas Carol

He was not alone, but sat by the side of a fair young
girl in a mourning-dress: in whose eyes there were tears,
which sparkled in the light that shone out of the Ghost of
Christmas Past.

“It matters little,” she said, softly. “To you, very little.
Another idol has displaced me; and if it can cheer and comfort
you in time to come, as I would have tried to do, I have
no just cause to grieve.”

“What Idol has displaced you?” he rejoined.

“A golden one.”

“This is the even-handed dealing of the world!” he said.
“There is nothing on which it is so hard as poverty; and
there is nothing it professes to condemn with such severity
as the pursuit of wealth!”

“You fear the world too much,” she answered, gently.
“All your other hopes have merged into the hope of being
beyond the chance of its sordid reproach. I have seen your
nobler aspirations fall off one by one, until the master-passion,
Gain, engrosses you. Have I not?”

“What then?” he retorted. “Even if I have grown so
much wiser, what then? I am not changed towards you.”

She shook her head.

“Am I?”

“Our contract is an old one. It was made when we were
both poor and content to be so, until, in good season, we could
improve our worldly fortune by our patient industry. You
are changed. When it was made, you were another man.”

“I was a boy,” he said impatiently.

“Your own feeling tells you that you were not what you
are,” she returned. “I am. That which promised happiness
when we were one in heart, is fraught with misery now that
we are two. How often and how keenly I have thought of
this, I will not say. It is enough that I have thought of it,
and can release you.”

“Have I ever sought release?”

“In words. No. Never.”

“In what, then?”

“In a changed nature; in an altered spirit; in another
atmosphere of life; another Hope as its great end. In
everything that made my love of any worth or value in your
sight. If this had never been between us,” said the girl,
looking mildly, but with steadiness, upon him; “tell me,
would you seek me out and try to win me now? Ah, no!”

He seemed to yield to the justice of this supposition, in
spite of himself. But he said with a struggle, “You think
not.”

“I would gladly think otherwise if I could,” she answered,
“Heaven knows! When I have learned a Truth like this,
I know how strong and irresistible it must be. But if you
were free to-day, to-morrow, yesterday, can even I believe
that you would choose a dowerless girl–you who, in your
very confidence with her, weigh everything by Gain: or,
choosing her, if for a moment you were false enough to your
one guiding principle to do so, do I not know that your
repentance and regret would surely follow? I do; and I
release you. With a full heart, for the love of him you
once were.”

He was about to speak; but with her head turned from
him, she resumed.

“You may–the memory of what is past half makes me
hope you will–have pain in this. A very, very brief time,
and you will dismiss the recollection of it, gladly, as an
unprofitable dream, from which it happened well that you
awoke. May you be happy in the life you have chosen!”

She left him, and they parted.

Don’t be like Scrooge. Find yourself a girl and settle down.