Posted originally to alt.fan.tolkien
Frodo looked out of his Apartment window at the giant poster of 'Big Sauron'
on the wall opposite. It showed a giant lidless eye surrounded by flames and
printed in big letters undernieth read 'Big Sauron is watching you'. Frodo
returned to his diary and wrote.
'The ring is death. The ring does not entail death. The ring is death.
Even before I have placed it on my finger I have commited the essential
crime from which all else follows.
'To the past or to the future. To a time when thought is free and
hobbits are different from one another and do not live alone.
From the age of the ring police, from age of Big Sauron, from a dead
man. Greeting.'
Lord of the Rings by William Gibson
The sky above Middle Earth was the colour of a television tuned to a
dead channel.
Middle Earth was a giant semiotic consential hallusination enjoyed by
thousands of ligitimate users every day. It was powered by a massive
computer network generating a virtual matrix. The Middle Earth matrix was so
real that many of those who used it were not even aware that it was
artificial.
Case was aware. Every day he jacked in with his Oni Sedai deck. Taking
on the outer appearance and peronality of the Avatar he had invented called
Gandalf. Every day he played out a long winded roleplaying game Sauron had
placed as ice around his data to disuade would be hackers. Black Ice, a game
in which you could die.
Cases mission was simple. To destroy Sauron's security system,
manesfesting itself within the Matrix as a ring. If he could convince others
to help, the raw data of Sauron Industries would his for the taking. Well,
the Yukaza's assuming they would come up with the money.
The Lord of the Rings, by Irvine Welsh
"Dinnae talk tae me 'boot fuckin' pipeweed, Pippen, this shit is nae fer
real," said Merry.
"But I dinnae want noo fuckin' Heroin, or whatae'r et's called," answered
Pippin. "And should'nae we be helping McGandalf faends a way tae destroy the
fuckin' ring, oor Merry?"
"A couldnae gi' a fuck aboot the ring, ya wee brainless hobbit cunt, just
gimme some more o' this fuckin' shet... A jes' need one moor fucken' het."
________
Lord of the Rings by Cheech and Chong
"Elrond, I got it, I got the ring, open the door, man, I got it!"
"Who's there?"
"It's me, Frodo, man, open the door, I got the thing, man."
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, Frodo, it's me, hurry up, I think there are nine Nazgul
following me, open the door, man."
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, Frodo, come on, open the door!"
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, ..."
"Frodo's not here."
___________
Lord of the Rings by Anne Rice
The elf was utterly pale and smooth, as if she were sculpted
from bleached bone, and her face was as seemingly inanimate as
a statue, except for two brilliant blue eyes that looked down
at the hobbit intently like flames in a porcelain lantern.
Then the elf smiled almost wistfully, and the smooth white
substance of her face moved with infinitely flexible but minimal
lines. She drew herself up to her full marvelous preternatural
stature, and spoke.
"The great test has finally come, and I have mastered it. I refuse
the power offered me. My fate shall be to diminish, and travel into
the West, and yet I shall remain Galadriel... Queen of the Elves!"
The Lord of the Rings by H.P. Lovecraft
Boromir stooped and picking up a large stone he cast it far into the
dark
water.
'Why did you do that, Boromir?' said Frodo. 'I hate this place, too, and
I am afraid. I don't know of what: not of wolves, or the dark behind
the
doors, but of something else. I am afraid of the pool. Don't disturb
it!'
Frodo didn't mention why he was afraid of the pool, for he didn't want
to tell of obscene hints he had picked up in some of Bilbo's more
obscure tomes, or the disturbing and blasphemous fragments of lore he
had learnt from ancient books by long forgotten sages. For too long he
had been tormented by the knowledge that there were dark and eldritch
powers in the earth - powers that writhe and gibber in the dark angles
between space and time.
'I was wrong after all,' said Gandalf, 'The opening word was on the
archway all the time. The translation should have been: Say "friend"
and enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for 'friend' and the
doors opened. Quite simple.'
'Too simple' thought Frodo anxiously, as Gandalf set his foot on the
lowest step and strode forward. Would the roiling and bubbling
obscenties which had clearly made these doors in antediluvian eons
past have really made it so easy to enter? What nameless, gibbering
horrors lay in the dusty darkness within? Dark young of Shub-niggurath?
Servants of Cthulu Himself? He shuddered at the memory of the
long years he spent howling in the mental hospice at Michel Delving
after foolishly uttering a summoning spell from a dusty, age-encrusted
grimoire several years before and summoned a gibbering faceless
horror from beyond the edges of madness.
Shaking off the unclean memory he rose to follow Gandalf, but at that
moment several things happened. Frodo felt something seize him by the
ankle, and he fell with a cry. Bill the pony gave a wild neigh of fear
and
turned tail and dashed away along the lakeside into the darkness. The
others swung round and saw the waters of the lake were seething, as if
a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end.
Out of the water a long sinuous TENTACLE had crawled. It was
completely indescriable - let me describe it for you in detail: it was
pale green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had hold of Frodo's
foot and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his kness was
chanting in a low, horrible voice 'That is not dead which can eternal
lie, and with strange eons even death may die.'
The arm let go of Frodo and Aragorn pulled him away, crying for
help. Twenty other arms came rippling out. The dark water boiled
and there was a hideous stench, the dull monotonous beat of
obscene drums and the thin whine of eldritch flutes as the very
fabric of reality warped and twisted in a foul parody of the parameters
of Euclidean physics.
'Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!' shouted Gandalf, levelling
his uncle's shotgun at the gibbering blasphemous horror from beyond
the stars, 'We must escape before anyone else fails their sanity
rolls!'
The Lord of the Rings by Samuel R. Delany
to throw the One Ring into the Cracks
of Doom.
So howled out for Arda to give him a name.
The in-dark answered with wind.
All you know I know: flying Nazgul and
deep Elves glancing at the Sun before
lunch; Halflings cowling under tree roots
and Dwarves sharpening their axes; Orc
raids; know that men in Bree shook their
heads last week because in six months
the prices of Longbottom Leaf have risen outlandishly; how lembas tastes
after
you've held it in your mouth, dry, a whole minute.
A whole minute he squatted, pebbles clutched with his left foot (the
hairiest
one), listening to his breath sound tumble down the ledges.
(879 pages later)
The sky is stripped. I am too weak to write much.But I still hear them
walking
in the trees; not speaking. Waiting here, away from the terrifying weaponry,
out of the halls of vapor and light, beyond Ithilien and into the hills, I
have
come to
Chris Lyth (clyth@)
I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high
notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.
Lord of the Rings Take 2
One of the cult novels of the 1970s turned out to be Lord of
the Rings. Written by one of the unlikeliest of best-selling
authors, it affected a large number of people, not least of
them being those people now in their teens saddled with names
like Galadriel. But how would this book have turned out had
it been written by someone else?
Lord of the Rings, by Ian Fleming.
Aragorn placed his hand on the cool, ivory hilt of his
6.38 Anduril sword, half-holding it in as casual manner as
possible. His eyes swept the room of the Prancing Pony,
eyeing up the potential threats. He took out his pipe, made
from the warmed heartwood of a mature oak. In the palm of his
left hand, he unwrapped his leather tobacco pouch filled, as
he preferred, with Gondorian Silk Cut. Aragorn preferred it
to the harsher, stronger Numenorian blend...
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by PG Wodehouse.
"Sam, I've decided to go and overthrow the Dark Lord by
tossing his jewellery into a volcano."
"Very good, sir. Should I lay out your crazy adventure
garb? I presume that this will pose a delay to tea-time. I
would remind your Hobbitship that your Great Aunt Lobellia
Sackville-Baggins is expected for tea."
"Blast! I say, bother! How can a chap overthrow the
Dark Lord? I suppose I'll have to delay my campaign."
"Very good, sir. I believe you will be free in about a decade."
"I'll do it then. Make a note, Sam."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Bernard Cornwell.
"God save Rohan, will ye look at all those orcies,"
said Sergeant Eomer, looking down the slope near Helm's Deep.
"Thousands upon thousands of them, and not a single guard."
Aragorn looked at the multitude. He was a professional
soldier, born and bred in a hedgerow, good only for war and
fighting. Unlike the other officers, he didn't come from the
Nobility, and was looked down by most. 'Nosey' Gandalf had
given him his commission, and his sword, for saving his life
in battle. "You're right, Sergeant Eomer. Let's see what we
can do with these Numenorian bows"....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Oscar Wilde.
"He bested me in a riddle contest."
"A riddle contest?"
"It was so. And he cheated."
"To cheat in a riddle contest is a riddle in itself,
and is therefore not cheating, but just another riddle."
"He cheated and asked me what he had in his pockets."
"He picked and pocketed a pretty prize, performing
perfidious behaviour. How very noble, so like our own Lords
and Masters..."
~~~
Yes, Dark Lord, by Lynn & Jay.
"Ah, Lord Sauron. I have here the draft of your speech
to the Nazgul Committee on Running Water."
"Still waters run deep, Sir Grishnakh?"
"Er, with respect, Dark Lord, if waters are still, then
they can't run at all, deep or shallow."
"Thank you, Bernard. Where would we be without you.
What's the gist of my speech?"
"Essentially, Lord Sauron, that the policy of the Dark
Lord Administration is to avoid having a policy, and that the
absence of a policy does not betoken a lack of policy, but a
policy of policy limitation, limiting policy intiatives to
initial policy outlines, without precluding disparate policy
intiatives within the policy outlines."
"Pardon?"
"You'll tell them they can do what they like, Lord Sauron."....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Rudyard Kipling
I went round to an elven inn, to buy a glass o' beer
The owner looked at me long-nosed, "We don't serve your kind here"
The elf maids giggled fit to die, pointing out my height
But I swim in booze whenever there is Evil in the Night.
Yes it's Gimli this and Gimli that
And go away you brute
But its To the Front, our faithful friend
When the bows begin to shoot.....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Raymond Chandler
"Frodo Baggins?" said the old man in the doorway, rain
dripping from his oversized hat with all the ease of a dwarf
burrowing after gold.
"That's the name on the door. Guess I'm gullible enough
to believe what it says about me."
The old man came in and dripped water on the earth floor.
Added a touch of class, so I didn't complain.
"Frodo, you've got a problem."
"I pay my taxes, and I'm clean with the Rangers. What's
my problem?"
"Bilbo shafted you with that heirloom. Gold ring? Gold
ringer, more like."
"A dud, huh. Can't say I'm surprised."
"If it was a dud, you wouldn't have a problem. Your
problem is that this little heirloom has a history, a history
with a pearl-handled stiletto in the back. It goes back all the way
throughOne of the cult novels of the 1970s turned out to be Lord of
the Rings. Written by one of the unlikeliest of best-selling
authors, it affected a large number of people, not least of
them being those people now in their teens saddled with names
like Galadriel. But how would this book have turned out had
it been written by someone else?
Lord of the Rings, by Ian Fleming.
Aragorn placed his hand on the cool, ivory hilt of his
6.38 Anduril sword, half-holding it in as casual manner as
possible. His eyes swept the room of the Prancing Pony,
eyeing up the potential threats. He took out his pipe, made
from the warmed heartwood of a mature oak. In the palm of his
left hand, he unwrapped his leather tobacco pouch filled, as
he preferred, with Gondorian Silk Cut. Aragorn preferred it
to the harsher, stronger Numenorian blend...
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by PG Wodehouse.
"Sam, I've decided to go and overthrow the Dark Lord by
tossing his jewellery into a volcano."
"Very good, sir. Should I lay out your crazy adventure
garb? I presume that this will pose a delay to tea-time. I
would remind your Hobbitship that your Great Aunt Lobellia
Sackville-Baggins is expected for tea."
"Blast! I say, bother! How can a chap overthrow the
Dark Lord? I suppose I'll have to delay my campaign."
"Very good, sir. I believe you will be free in about a decade."
"I'll do it then. Make a note, Sam."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Bernard Cornwell.
"God save Rohan, will ye look at all those orcies,"
said Sergeant Eomer, looking down the slope near Helm's Deep.
"Thousands upon thousands of them, and not a single guard."
Aragorn looked at the multitude. He was a professional
soldier, born and bred in a hedgerow, good only for war and
fighting. Unlike the other officers, he didn't come from the
Nobility, and was looked down by most. 'Nosey' Gandalf had
given him his commission, and his sword, for saving his life
in battle. "You're right, Sergeant Eomer. Let's see what we
can do with these Numenorian bows"....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Oscar Wilde.
"He bested me in a riddle contest."
"A riddle contest?"
"It was so. And he cheated."
"To cheat in a riddle contest is a riddle in itself,
and is therefore not cheating, but just another riddle."
"He cheated and asked me what he had in his pockets."
"He picked and pocketed a pretty prize, performing
perfidious behaviour. How very noble, so like our own Lords
and Masters..."
~~~
Yes, Dark Lord, by Lynn & Jay.
"Ah, Lord Sauron. I have here the draft of your speech
to the Nazgul Committee on Running Water."
"Still waters run deep, Sir Grishnakh?"
"Er, with respect, Dark Lord, if waters are still, then
they can't run at all, deep or shallow."
"Thank you, Bernard. Where would we be without you.
What's the gist of my speech?"
"Essentially, Lord Sauron, that the policy of the Dark
Lord Administration is to avoid having a policy, and that the
absence of a policy does not betoken a lack of policy, but a
policy of policy limitation, limiting policy intiatives to
initial policy outlines, without precluding disparate policy
intiatives within the policy outlines."
"Pardon?"
"You'll tell them they can do what they like, Lord Sauron."....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Rudyard Kipling
I went round to an elven inn, to buy a glass o' beer
The owner looked at me long-nosed, "We don't serve your kind here"
The elf maids giggled fit to die, pointing out my height
But I swim in booze whenever there is Evil in the Night.
Yes it's Gimli this and Gimli that
And go away you brute
But its To the Front, our faithful friend
When the bows begin to shoot.....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Raymond Chandler
"Frodo Baggins?" said the old man in the doorway, rain
dripping from his oversized hat with all the ease of a dwarf
burrowing after gold.
"That's the name on the door. Guess I'm gullible enough
to believe what it says about me."
The old man came in and dripped water on the earth floor.
Added a touch of class, so I didn't complain.
"Frodo, you've got a problem."
"I pay my taxes, and I'm clean with the Rangers. What's
my problem?"
"Bilbo shafted you with that heirloom. Gold ring? Gold
ringer, more like."
"A dud, huh. Can't say I'm surprised."
"If it was a dud, you wouldn't have a problem. Your
problem is that this little heirloom has a history, a history
with a pearl-handled stiletto in the back. It goes back all the way
the biggest string of mugs you find as wallpaper on Minas Tirith's
finest. Goes all the way back to Night-Time Sauron....."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by George Lucas
"Did you ever wonder who your father was, Frodo?"
"Uncle Bilbo was my father, Obi Gan Dalf."
"Your Uncle is a fine man, but he is not your father.
Your father was a fine warrior and a great captain, strong in
the Force. He was called Sarumann the Wise, and he was a good friend."
"Was? Is he dead?"
"He is no more. It is your destiny to avenge his death, young Baggins."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Dylan Thomas
I whistled defiantly as I walked down the streets of
Under Mount Doom. Auntie Grima was baking orc bread, and the
smell wafted over the streets
like a miasma of wonderment. She was a dried-up woman, who
cursed everytime the pit was mentioned, that death-dealing,
life-giving pit. It was precious to us even though it killed
us, our precious it was, but we didn't care about it as much
as we cared about the grilled human ears we had for tea.
"Dopey!" called my friend across the street to me, his
voice echoing around our brown fields. "Dopey, you going to
see the game?"
There was always a game on. We didn't watch it, we
devoured it, and when it was over, we played it out again and
again, with a ball instead of a captive's head. Grishna was
always Garth Lliwams, and I was always Jaypeeare. He was
magic, and when we finished, we would go home and dream of Nazgul....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by George MacDonald Fraser
I never could stand that Boromir. Stuck up and
arrogant. Still, I fixed him good in his turn. I remember
thinking, when the halflings rushed off, that's yours,
Boromir. But I'm getting ahead of the story. It all started
back in Rivendell. It was all Gandalf's fault, of course.
Nearly every disaster of the Third Age was. But this time he
outdid himself. His idea of a good plan was to take this
wonder weapon we had chanced upon, and throw it away.
Couldn't even throw it away in the sea, like any sane chap.
No, his plan was to take it all the way into the middle of
enemy territory, where there were millions of orcs and
others, and throw it into a volcano knowing that the d....d
thing will explode. There was a long silence, and Gandalf
then said "Volunteers only, of course." Then everyone looked
towards me....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by James Joyce
Old man willow, whistling like a tea pot, shining like
a star, oh so brilliant in the dreaming and smoke and by the
river, Goldberry's river, dancing like a vision, Bombadil,
Bombadil, Bombadillo. Rock of ages, young and ageless, naked
before my eyes like Rivendell Rock, sweet and hard and trusting....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Meatloaf
It was a hot summer's day in the Marsh of the Dead
There was fog crawling over the swamp
I could listen to the screams of the Dead Men Calling
I could see their empty
eyes and the candles blowing in the wind.
You were licking your finger
With the Ring of Power and I was dying just to ask for a taste
We were dancing together up on the Crack of Doom
And no-ones gonna know what we've done.
~~~
Bagenders
Gaffer Gamgee was relating the doings of the Baggins
down at the old Green Dragon. "I tell you, they ain't proper
Bagenders, with them noses in the air, not like our Samkin,
who can turn up a turnip pretty as you please. Now Lobellia,
she's all right. Nah, she is. But Bilbo? Remember that
business with the Old Dwarfs? And what did that Bilbo give me
on his eleventy first? Wine. I asks you. Do I look like a
wine drinker? Yeah, I knows I drunk it, but that's not the point..."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Christopher Martin-Jenkins
"It's a lovely summer's evening here in the Paths of
the Dead. Aragorn has won the toss, and has decided to bat.
Interesting decision, and Jonathon Agnew has some news on
that, so I'll pass you over to Jonathon while Fred cuts me a
slice of that delicious orc cake sent in by Mrs Galadriel of
Lorien Wood. Thank you Mrs Galadriel."
"Well, Chris, I've just been speaking with Eowyn, who
said that she had recommended that Aragorn should send the
other side in to the Paths of the Dead first. It seems that
opening in there can be nasty. Bit of an uncomfortable pitch.
The green slopes of Pelenor Fields are much more suitable to
the opening pair of Aragorn and Eomer. Raggers seems keen to
play a Captain's innings today. I gather the bearded wonder
has some statistics for us?"
"According to my records, the last time anyone went in
on the Paths of the Dead, it was a sticky wicket."
"I wonder if we'll see that again today. Well, Raggers
has come out, and I must say, his new sword looks a lot
better. Reforged, I hear. Fred?"
"I don't know about forged or reforged, but he'll need
to show more application than he has done. Treated his sword
like it were broken."
"That's true, but he has done some remarkable running
between the countries. Oh dear, it looks like they're going
in for the day. Yes, they're definitely going in to the Paths
of the Dead...."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Andrew Lloyd Weber
Don't cry for me, Numenoria
The truth is, you never sank down
Beneath those wild waves
Those deep sea wild waves
You never left from
This Middle Earth
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Gene Roddenbury
"The Halflings, cap'n, they will na take the strain"
"Strider, we've got to get out of this snow. Legolas,
did you get a reading on that creature?"
"Fascinating, Captain. It appears to be an unknown
creature that lurks in the pool waiting for passing
strangers. Ecologically implausible, captain."
"Do you know what it is?"
"I believe I said it was unknown, Dr Gimli. Logically,
if I knew what it was, then it wouldn't be unknown."
"Cap'n, we're in some sort of temporal warp, stretching
and deforming the plot. The snow should take place a day
before our encounter with this beastie."
"Captain, what are we going to do."
"Boromir, put on that red armour."....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by D H Lawrence
Arwen Evenstar stitched, her hands moving over the soft
silk of the flag. Her hands moving, her mind roved, as free
as she was herself trapped. Aragorn was far, far away, but
active. She thought of his maleness, and stitched faster. Her
hands brushed the silken flag, and she looked across the
sward, eyes passing over the elven gamekeeper without seeing
him, yet seeing everything....
Lord of the Rings by George Orwellfinest. Goes all the way back to Night-Time Sauron....."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by George Lucas
"Did you ever wonder who your father was, Frodo?"
"Uncle Bilbo was my father, Obi Gan Dalf."
"Your Uncle is a fine man, but he is not your father.
Your father was a fine warrior and a great captain, strong in
the Force. He was called Sarumann the Wise, and he was a good friend."
"Was? Is he dead?"
"He is no more. It is your destiny to avenge his death, young Baggins."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Dylan Thomas
I whistled defiantly as I walked down the streets of
Under Mount Doom. Auntie Grima was baking orc bread, and the
smell wafted over the streets
like a miasma of wonderment. She was a dried-up woman, who
cursed everytime the pit was mentioned, that death-dealing,
life-giving pit. It was precious to us even though it killed
us, our precious it was, but we didn't care about it as much
as we cared about the grilled human ears we had for tea.
"Dopey!" called my friend across the street to me, his
voice echoing around our brown fields. "Dopey, you going to
see the game?"
There was always a game on. We didn't watch it, we
devoured it, and when it was over, we played it out again and
again, with a ball instead of a captive's head. Grishna was
always Garth Lliwams, and I was always Jaypeeare. He was
magic, and when we finished, we would go home and dream of Nazgul....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by George MacDonald Fraser
I never could stand that Boromir. Stuck up and
arrogant. Still, I fixed him good in his turn. I remember
thinking, when the halflings rushed off, that's yours,
Boromir. But I'm getting ahead of the story. It all started
back in Rivendell. It was all Gandalf's fault, of course.
Nearly every disaster of the Third Age was. But this time he
outdid himself. His idea of a good plan was to take this
wonder weapon we had chanced upon, and throw it away.
Couldn't even throw it away in the sea, like any sane chap.
No, his plan was to take it all the way into the middle of
enemy territory, where there were millions of orcs and
others, and throw it into a volcano knowing that the d....d
thing will explode. There was a long silence, and Gandalf
then said "Volunteers only, of course." Then everyone looked
towards me....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by James Joyce
Old man willow, whistling like a tea pot, shining like
a star, oh so brilliant in the dreaming and smoke and by the
river, Goldberry's river, dancing like a vision, Bombadil,
Bombadil, Bombadillo. Rock of ages, young and ageless, naked
before my eyes like Rivendell Rock, sweet and hard and trusting....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Meatloaf
It was a hot summer's day in the Marsh of the Dead
There was fog crawling over the swamp
I could listen to the screams of the Dead Men Calling
I could see their empty
eyes and the candles blowing in the wind.
You were licking your finger
With the Ring of Power and I was dying just to ask for a taste
We were dancing together up on the Crack of Doom
And no-ones gonna know what we've done.
~~~
Bagenders
Gaffer Gamgee was relating the doings of the Baggins
down at the old Green Dragon. "I tell you, they ain't proper
Bagenders, with them noses in the air, not like our Samkin,
who can turn up a turnip pretty as you please. Now Lobellia,
she's all right. Nah, she is. But Bilbo? Remember that
business with the Old Dwarfs? And what did that Bilbo give me
on his eleventy first? Wine. I asks you. Do I look like a
wine drinker? Yeah, I knows I drunk it, but that's not the point..."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Christopher Martin-Jenkins
"It's a lovely summer's evening here in the Paths of
the Dead. Aragorn has won the toss, and has decided to bat.
Interesting decision, and Jonathon Agnew has some news on
that, so I'll pass you over to Jonathon while Fred cuts me a
slice of that delicious orc cake sent in by Mrs Galadriel of
Lorien Wood. Thank you Mrs Galadriel."
"Well, Chris, I've just been speaking with Eowyn, who
said that she had recommended that Aragorn should send the
other side in to the Paths of the Dead first. It seems that
opening in there can be nasty. Bit of an uncomfortable pitch.
The green slopes of Pelenor Fields are much more suitable to
the opening pair of Aragorn and Eomer. Raggers seems keen to
play a Captain's innings today. I gather the bearded wonder
has some statistics for us?"
"According to my records, the last time anyone went in
on the Paths of the Dead, it was a sticky wicket."
"I wonder if we'll see that again today. Well, Raggers
has come out, and I must say, his new sword looks a lot
better. Reforged, I hear. Fred?"
"I don't know about forged or reforged, but he'll need
to show more application than he has done. Treated his sword
like it were broken."
"That's true, but he has done some remarkable running
between the countries. Oh dear, it looks like they're going
in for the day. Yes, they're definitely going in to the Paths
of the Dead...."
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Andrew Lloyd Weber
Don't cry for me, Numenoria
The truth is, you never sank down
Beneath those wild waves
Those deep sea wild waves
You never left from
This Middle Earth
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by Gene Roddenbury
"The Halflings, cap'n, they will na take the strain"
"Strider, we've got to get out of this snow. Legolas,
did you get a reading on that creature?"
"Fascinating, Captain. It appears to be an unknown
creature that lurks in the pool waiting for passing
strangers. Ecologically implausible, captain."
"Do you know what it is?"
"I believe I said it was unknown, Dr Gimli. Logically,
if I knew what it was, then it wouldn't be unknown."
"Cap'n, we're in some sort of temporal warp, stretching
and deforming the plot. The snow should take place a day
before our encounter with this beastie."
"Captain, what are we going to do."
"Boromir, put on that red armour."....
~~~
Lord of the Rings, by D H Lawrence
Arwen Evenstar stitched, her hands moving over the soft
silk of the flag. Her hands moving, her mind roved, as free
as she was herself trapped. Aragorn was far, far away, but
active. She thought of his maleness, and stitched faster. Her
hands brushed the silken flag, and she looked across the
sward, eyes passing over the elven gamekeeper without seeing
him, yet seeing everything....
Frodo looked out of his Apartment window at the giant poster of 'Big Sauron'
on the wall opposite. It showed a giant lidless eye surrounded by flames and
printed in big letters undernieth read 'Big Sauron is watching you'. Frodo
returned to his diary and wrote.
'The ring is death. The ring does not entail death. The ring is death.
Even before I have placed it on my finger I have commited the essential
crime from which all else follows.
'To the past or to the future. To a time when thought is free and
hobbits are different from one another and do not live alone.
From the age of the ring police, from age of Big Sauron, from a dead
man. Greeting.'
Lord of the Rings by William Gibson
The sky above Middle Earth was the colour of a television tuned to a
dead channel.
Middle Earth was a giant semiotic consential hallusination enjoyed by
thousands of ligitimate users every day. It was powered by a massive
computer network generating a virtual matrix. The Middle Earth matrix was so
real that many of those who used it were not even aware that it was
artificial.
Case was aware. Every day he jacked in with his Oni Sedai deck. Taking
on the outer appearance and peronality of the Avatar he had invented called
Gandalf. Every day he played out a long winded roleplaying game Sauron had
placed as ice around his data to disuade would be hackers. Black Ice, a game
in which you could die.
Cases mission was simple. To destroy Sauron's security system,
manesfesting itself within the Matrix as a ring. If he could convince others
to help, the raw data of Sauron Industries would his for the taking. Well,
the Yukaza's assuming they would come up with the money.
The Lord of the Rings, by Irvine Welsh
"Dinnae talk tae me 'boot fuckin' pipeweed, Pippen, this shit is nae fer
real," said Merry.
"But I dinnae want noo fuckin' Heroin, or whatae'r et's called," answered
Pippin. "And should'nae we be helping McGandalf faends a way tae destroy the
fuckin' ring, oor Merry?"
"A couldnae gi' a fuck aboot the ring, ya wee brainless hobbit cunt, just
gimme some more o' this fuckin' shet... A jes' need one moor fucken' het."
________
Lord of the Rings by Cheech and Chong
"Elrond, I got it, I got the ring, open the door, man, I got it!"
"Who's there?"
"It's me, Frodo, man, open the door, I got the thing, man."
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, Frodo, it's me, hurry up, I think there are nine Nazgul
following me, open the door, man."
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, Frodo, come on, open the door!"
"Frodo?"
"Yeah, ..."
"Frodo's not here."
___________
Lord of the Rings by Anne Rice
The elf was utterly pale and smooth, as if she were sculpted
from bleached bone, and her face was as seemingly inanimate as
a statue, except for two brilliant blue eyes that looked down
at the hobbit intently like flames in a porcelain lantern.
Then the elf smiled almost wistfully, and the smooth white
substance of her face moved with infinitely flexible but minimal
lines. She drew herself up to her full marvelous preternatural
stature, and spoke.
"The great test has finally come, and I have mastered it. I refuse
the power offered me. My fate shall be to diminish, and travel into
the West, and yet I shall remain Galadriel... Queen of the Elves!"
The Lord of the Rings by H.P. Lovecraft
Boromir stooped and picking up a large stone he cast it far into the
dark
water.
'Why did you do that, Boromir?' said Frodo. 'I hate this place, too, and
I am afraid. I don't know of what: not of wolves, or the dark behind
the
doors, but of something else. I am afraid of the pool. Don't disturb
it!'
Frodo didn't mention why he was afraid of the pool, for he didn't want
to tell of obscene hints he had picked up in some of Bilbo's more
obscure tomes, or the disturbing and blasphemous fragments of lore he
had learnt from ancient books by long forgotten sages. For too long he
had been tormented by the knowledge that there were dark and eldritch
powers in the earth - powers that writhe and gibber in the dark angles
between space and time.
'I was wrong after all,' said Gandalf, 'The opening word was on the
archway all the time. The translation should have been: Say "friend"
and enter. I had only to speak the Elvish word for 'friend' and the
doors opened. Quite simple.'
'Too simple' thought Frodo anxiously, as Gandalf set his foot on the
lowest step and strode forward. Would the roiling and bubbling
obscenties which had clearly made these doors in antediluvian eons
past have really made it so easy to enter? What nameless, gibbering
horrors lay in the dusty darkness within? Dark young of Shub-niggurath?
Servants of Cthulu Himself? He shuddered at the memory of the
long years he spent howling in the mental hospice at Michel Delving
after foolishly uttering a summoning spell from a dusty, age-encrusted
grimoire several years before and summoned a gibbering faceless
horror from beyond the edges of madness.
Shaking off the unclean memory he rose to follow Gandalf, but at that
moment several things happened. Frodo felt something seize him by the
ankle, and he fell with a cry. Bill the pony gave a wild neigh of fear
and
turned tail and dashed away along the lakeside into the darkness. The
others swung round and saw the waters of the lake were seething, as if
a host of snakes were swimming up from the southern end.
Out of the water a long sinuous TENTACLE had crawled. It was
completely indescriable - let me describe it for you in detail: it was
pale green and luminous and wet. Its fingered end had hold of Frodo's
foot and was dragging him into the water. Sam on his kness was
chanting in a low, horrible voice 'That is not dead which can eternal
lie, and with strange eons even death may die.'
The arm let go of Frodo and Aragorn pulled him away, crying for
help. Twenty other arms came rippling out. The dark water boiled
and there was a hideous stench, the dull monotonous beat of
obscene drums and the thin whine of eldritch flutes as the very
fabric of reality warped and twisted in a foul parody of the parameters
of Euclidean physics.
'Into the gateway! Up the stairs! Quick!' shouted Gandalf, levelling
his uncle's shotgun at the gibbering blasphemous horror from beyond
the stars, 'We must escape before anyone else fails their sanity
rolls!'
The Lord of the Rings by Samuel R. Delany
to throw the One Ring into the Cracks
of Doom.
So howled out for Arda to give him a name.
The in-dark answered with wind.
All you know I know: flying Nazgul and
deep Elves glancing at the Sun before
lunch; Halflings cowling under tree roots
and Dwarves sharpening their axes; Orc
raids; know that men in Bree shook their
heads last week because in six months
the prices of Longbottom Leaf have risen outlandishly; how lembas tastes
after
you've held it in your mouth, dry, a whole minute.
A whole minute he squatted, pebbles clutched with his left foot (the
hairiest
one), listening to his breath sound tumble down the ledges.
(879 pages later)
The sky is stripped. I am too weak to write much.But I still hear them
walking
in the trees; not speaking. Waiting here, away from the terrifying weaponry,
out of the halls of vapor and light, beyond Ithilien and into the hills, I
have
come to
Chris Lyth (clyth@)
I'd like to see a nude opera, because when they hit those high
notes, I bet you can really see it in those genitals.