Reads4Pleasure hosted a mini challenge a few hours ago – officially another “Breaktime Shindig”, but a real challenging question at the same time. English Major’s Junk Food also hosted one of these mini challenges, and I’m going to attempt to answer both questions before I dive into my next book.

So…Reads4Pleasure asked who our favorite and least favorite characters, from all the worlds we’ve encountered through our reading travels, were. After a little bit of thought I believe that Harry Crewe from Robin McKinley’s The Blue Sword is still as much a definite favorite as she was when I first met her as a 12 year old. Harry is just so incredibly bad ass, right from the beginning when she scowls at her glass of fresh squeezed orange juice, until the end when she battles to save Damar. I still wear, with a great deal of goofy pride, the T-shirt a friend made me that says Damalur-sol, and happily explain to the people who frequently ask about it that it means lady-hero to the world of Damar and Harry Crewe.

As for a character that I hate…? This shouldn’t be so difficult, but I;m finding that there are plenty of characters that make me barf a little in my mouth (Heathcliff?! but lets not get into that…!) but not many that I actually hate. Most characters that I come across that are truly awful I put out of my mind as swiftly as I can. It’s not the all-encompassing representations of evil that I find particularly bad – Sauron of The Lord of the Rings is an obviously nasty one – but the small time crooks, the senseless inflicters of pain, the manipulating bastards that are all too real that I find repulsive. Like I said, I don’t care to dwell on or remember them. I’d rather focus the heat of my disgust on, well, Heathcliff…!

Moving on to Ash’s challenge, she wandered what a favorite quote out of your favorite classic novel might be. In a slight deviation from the ‘classic novel’ idea, I was reminded recently, when I was going through a box of stuff my mother packed up for me, of how much I love the play Cyrano de Bergerac by Edmond Rostand. I wrote down this passage in my little quotes journal in 2003, and it still is lovely and thrilling to me now:

‘De Guiche
I suppose you have written a tragedy -
They all have.

Le Bret
(Aside to Cyrano)
Now at last you’ll have it played -
Your Agrippine!

De Guiche
Why not? Take it to him.

Cyrano
(Tempted)
Really –

De Guiche
He is himself a dramatist;
Let him rewrite a few lines here and there,
And he’ll approve the rest.

Cyrano
(His face falls again)
Impossible.
My blood curdles to think of altering
one comma.

De Guiche
Ah, but when he likes a thing
He pays well.

Cyrano
Yes – but not so well as I -
When I have made a line that sings itself
So that I love the sound of it – I pay
Myself a hundred times.‘

There you have it. Back to reading now – I’ve read for about 11 hours give or take some meal breaks, and have spent going on 5 hours blogging and socializing. Three books down, over 500 pages read – I’m pretty pleased with my progress so far! Now only…7 hours left? Imagine that.

In recent months, the Catholic Church has produced a sulfuric trifecta of moral corruptness leaving a taste in one’s mouth that, in the most euphemistic of terms, can be described wholly unpalatable.

First, there were the verbal fisticuffs between Rep Patrick Kennedy and Lord Voldemort Bishop Tobin, which went something like this:

Kennedy: I support safe, medical procedures for everyone, especially with this shiny new Health Care Bill.

Tobin: Listen Fetus-Slayer-Supporter, you’re a terrible excuse for a Catholic. Don’t receive Communion, the most important part of the Catholic Mass. I award you no points, and may God have Mercy on your soul.

Then, Washington, DC’s diocese threatened to discontinue its social service programs if DC legalizes same-sex marriages.

Finally, RI Governor Sauron Don Carcieri vetoed a bill which would have allowed domestic partners, both gay and straight, to plan their partner’s funeral.

Epic spit take! These men who claim to follow the words and teachings of Jesus Christ make Christopher Hitchens look like Simon the Zealot!

Starting tomorrow, I will post my own meditations on the Gospels in which I will try to get at the heart of their meaning, plumb the depths of their relevance in today’s world, and try to give real Christians some reprieve.

MAGIA, ESPADA Y FANTASÍA (VI)

La segunda parte de la monumental adaptación a la pantalla de la obra de J.R.R. Tolkien por Peter Jackson y su equipo da comienzo en el punto en que la Comunidad del Anillo se disuelve: Frodo y Sam siguen su camino hacia Mordor, Merry y Pipin han caído prisioneros de los orcos de Sauron, y Aragorn, Legolas y Gimli, dejando a los pequeños portadores del anillo que encuentren su propio destino, van tras los cautivos para liberarlos, mientras Sauron y su aliado Saruman siguen acumulando fuerzas con las que aplastar a las razas libres de la Tierra Media, desunidas y parapetadas tras sus débiles defensas…

Tras el impactante efecto sorpresa de la primera entrega, Las dos torres ofrece más de lo mismo (pero peor) en la forma, aunque empieza la decadencia en cuanto al fondo. Como dijimos en su momento en esta misma sección, a medida que la trilogía avanza, sus grandes virtudes se van poco a poco diluyendo y los pequeños inconvenientes del primer capítulo, minimizados ante la grandiosidad del conjunto, van creciendo hasta poco a poco adueñarse de este puente hacia la conclusión. El problema, precisamente, es la entrega incondicional a la espectacularidad de las formas y el paulatino descuido de unas, ya de por sí, demasiado elementales, lineales, esquemáticas cuestiones de fondo (personajes, psicología, motivaciones, reacciones ante los hechos…) siguiendo, obviamente, las pautas marcadas por Tolkien pero haciendo que la película, exactamente igual que su antecesora y su continuación, dependa en exclusiva de los conocimientos previos del espectador sobre la obra literaria a fin de que pueda entender la lógica de acontecimientos y personajes, sin que se trate de un producto cinematográfico autónomo. A ello no es ajena la introducción de las grandes batallas y de las escenas de acción propias de la historia en las que la entrega a la espectacularidad es total, y en las que se desvirtúan algunos logros de la primera parte. Por ejemplo, donde hay un ingente esfuerzo por utilizar el maquillaje y la caracterización para la construcción de las diversas criaturas “no humanas” y de ambientación y dirección artística para los espacios, comienza a haber demasiada labor de computadora a fin de recrear enormes ejércitos en movimiento, espacios abiertos o decorados en los que transcurran los combates, auténticamente de videojuego por más espectaculares que sean, y también en el momento de provocar un buen número de efectos de la violencia sobre individuos y objetos. La batalla principal es tan grandiosa como artificiosa, con algún que otro guiño que supera lo humorístico para adentrarse en lo ridículo, completamente fuera del tono general de la historia, y las múltiples y complejas tramas paralelas que como un mosaico van salpicando la narración y cambiando el punto de interés y de tensión a cada momento, unidas a la excesiva duración del film, hacen que el ritmo vaya desde la lentitud más extrema al servicio del crecimiento de una tensión no siempre lograda (porque hay que entender que al igual que se depende del libro para presuponer aspectos de los personajes el espectador ya conoce el desenlace de los hechos sobre los que se pretende cargar emoción) hasta la vertiginosa sucesión de acontecimientos acelerados que siembran la película de altibajos y lagunas de emoción.

El problema es que la ingenuidad y expectación del discurso de la primera parte se torna aquí en una oda a las imágenes animadas desprovistas de discurso de cualquier tipo o, lo que es peor, intentando alcanzar la sublimidad de ciertos mensajes a través de la mera repetición de frases y situaciones pretendidamente trascendentes y decisivas (cuando, insistimos, el lector de Tolkien, espectador a quien va dirigida la película, no como intención, pero sí como construcción, ya sabe qué va a pasar y qué no) pero que, a través de ese culto a lo entendido como modernidad e innovación visuales, son en el fondo de una emotividad vacía, de una emoción nula, sin una aventura real, sin un riesgo o un peligro que realmente cruce al otro lado de la pantalla, sin unos personajes vivos por los que podamos sentir una empatía que vaya más allá de lo que los personajes dicen representar, sin llegar a sentir algo por los personajes en sí.

La película acumula historias que transcurren de manera paralela pero no por ello gana en solidez, muy al contrario, es una forma de perder pulso, de deshilvanar un puzzle que en la primera entrega había quedado ensamblado de manera aceptable. Se vuelve facilona, vulgar, reiterativa, simple y lineal, por más que visualmente pretenda todo lo contrario, resultar majestuosa, abigarrada, rica, espectacular; busca enganchar por la belleza y el impacto de imágenes grandilocuentes, olvidándose de atraparnos por el cariz de los acontecimientos que cuenta, y es ahí donde, a pesar de que engancha y obliga a seguirla, apuesta por explotar los elementos más pobres y simplones del lenguaje cinematográfico y busca convencer a través de algo, en el fondo, tan fácil como es apabullar, embaucar por aplastamiento.

Habiendo alcanzado así la trilogía la cúspide de lo que podía ofrecer, buena parte de esta segunda entrega y toda la tercera parte son un lento caer hacia la superficialidad en el discurso y el tributo a las formas animadas por ordenador en detrimento de la historia misma, al metraje excesivo en la creencia de que la mejor adaptación es la que cuenta todo (ya dijo Voltaire que el secreto de aburrir consiste en decirlo todo), de que a más, siempre es mejor. Y el cine nos ha dado gran cantidad de muestras, seguramente las mejores, de que lo mejor suele ser siempre lo contrario.

Proximamente…

En el proximo post mas detalles y aclaraciones de que poronga es este movimiento, y porque joraca se extendio como una pandemia hasta confines mas lejanos que la torre del ojo de Sauron

Hmmmm…So I thought and I thought, I pondered by my bedside, I thought of it in my sleep and I reached something – at last! My top 10 Villains in Fictions. The ones that I would love to hate and love their writers for sketching them so brilliantly that they still manage to rouse goosebumps on my flesh when I re-read them..Brilliant I say…Here are my favourites:

1. Uriah Heep(David Copperfield): Well well well, he is the top of the tops. The wicked Uriah Heep of David Copperfield. The insincerity of this character is spread throughout the book. He is the epitome of sheer evil. Read this one!

2. Tom Ripley(The Talented Mr. Ripley): It is strange however I would love to go to bed with Tom Ripley. After all one doesn’t really know whether this villain is gay or straight. His crimes. His mind. The plots he schemes is beyond everyone. And yet somewhere down the line he is aware that he will get caught someday for what he has done.

3. Heathcliff(Wuthering Heights): I would not call this one a villain, but then again, what would you call a person who drives his loved one to madness? What would you call someone who loves with such a vengeance that he wants to destroy everything in his wake? You would but call him a villain, wouldn’t you?

4. Lord Voldermort (Harry Potter Series): Lord Voldermort is real. He is insecure. He wants to be liked by all. He wants to overpower. He is the trueblue villain of the times gone by and Rowling has managed just fine with him.

5. Count Dracula (Dracula): An entire book dedicated to the blood-sucking, enticing vampire. Before Twilight emerged, way before there was this Scandinavian imaginary being that was many a cause of people’s sleepless nights. Including mine – though mine came later as well with Keanu Reeve’s Dracula.

6. Hannibal Lecter (The Silence of the Lambs): The hissing. The good taste for flesh. The maneater Mr. Lecter is quite a monster created by Mr. Harris. Dark and brooding. He knows what to plan and what to do with his time. Chills the spine everytime!

7. The Devil (The Master and Margarita): The devil decides to take a walk in Russia and there is but after all, hell breaking loose. Literally. Moscow is the devil’s new abode.

8. Humbert (Lolita): No matter what anyone says, to me Humbert is a villain. Probably the greatest of them all. Yes he was a pedophile. May be he loved the child, however doing what he did!! Attrocious!

9. Sauron (The Lord of the Rings): White haired, withering, full of strength, Sauron will not stop at anything to get the ring to rule them all.

10. Sher Khan (The Jungle Books): And my personal favourite, the tiger himself..Sher Khan. The one who still manages to instill fear in kids! Brilliant I say!

Last but not the least. For every anti-hero or villain ever created, you made it possible for the concept of heroes to come alive.

episch.

MAGIA, ESPADA Y FANTASÍA (III)

Un icono instantáneo en la Historia del cine. Ése es el primer y más importante tanto a favor de Peter Jackson y su amplio equipo tras asumir la titánica tarea de adaptar a la pantalla la monumental obra de J. R. R. Tolkien, superando por fin el complejo de una industria cinematográfica incapaz durante décadas de afrontar el reto de poner en imágenes el único libro que se le resistía. Habiendo adaptado en varias ocasiones con más o menos fortuna narraciones ricas y complicadas como El Quijote, Las mil y una noches o incluso La Biblia, de El señor de los anillos solamente había podido hacerse una cinta de animación de algo más de dos horas de duración y una continuación televisiva con el segundo de los libros de la trilogía, también de dibujos animados. El gran obstáculo para que el cine hubiera salido airoso antes de tan ingente esfuerzo era sin duda la enorme complicación que suponía reflejar en la pantalla el mundo imaginario diseñado por Tolkien, esa Tierra Media instalada en una eterno medievo, poblada por seres humanos y criaturas fabulosas de atributos fantásticos, poseedora de casi todos los ecosistemas existentes en el planeta Tierra y nutrida de centenares de referencias y trasvases culturales, históricos, mitológicos y legendarios procedentes del mundo real y de los que Tolkien era amplio conocedor gracias a su profunda erudición, a su dominio de las lenguas antiguas y al desempeño de sus tareas académicas. En los albores del siglo XXI, en cambio, a través de las nuevas tecnologías y con una encomiable actitud por parte de Jackson y compañía para utilizar los efectos especiales de manera respetuosa y no abusiva, usándolos para cubrir las lagunas que el maquillaje y la dirección artística no pueden satisfacer, la adaptación consigue una maestría formal absoluta.

Con un acertado planteamiento que incluía como medida indispensable (para la lógica narrativa y las necesidades de la taquilla) la realización de una película para cada una de las partes de la obra, esta primera entrega cubre el primer volumen de la trilogía literaria, la historia desde que Frodo (Elijah Wood) y Gandalf (Ian McKellen) tienen conocimiento de que el Anillo del Poder forjado tiempo atrás por Sauron, el Señor Oscuro, con objeto de controlar los anillos entregados a todas las razas de La Tierra Media, está en manos de Bilbo (Ian Holm) tras habérselo arrebatado años atrás a la criatura Gollum, hasta que la compañía creada por las razas de la Tierra Media para escoltar a Frodo en su arduo camino hasta el Monte del Destino, lugar donde el anillo debe ser arrojado para ser destruido, queda disuelta con la desaparición de Gandalf, la muerte de Boromir (Sean Bean), la marcha de Aragorn (Viggo Mortensen), Legolas (Orlando Bloom) y Gimli (John Rhys-Davies) a la caza de orcos y la dispersión de los hobbits Frodo y Sam (Sean Astin), por un lado, y Merry y Pippin (Dominic Monahan y Billy Boyd), por otro. Entretanto, por su periplo han desfilado personajes como Elrond (Hugo Weaving), Galadriel (Cate Blanchett), Arwen (Lyv Tyler) o el ambiguo Saruman (Christopher Lee).

La tercera gran virtud de la cinta la constituyen los exteriores escogidos como localizaciones para la filmación, los impresionantes paisajes de los Alpes Neozelandeses, todo un descubrimiento para quienes nunca habían tenido oportunidad de ver, ni siquiera en los documentales de La2, las maravillosas y bellísimas riquezas naturales de nuestras antípodas. Esta elección viene sustentada por un soberbio trabajo de dirección artística y maquillaje, así como de vestuario y caracterización, aspectos para los cuales los efectos especiales, contra lo que suele ser habitual, son meramente accesorios aunque tremendamente efectivos y decisivos. Todos los aspectos relacionados, pues, con el escenario en el que transcurre la acción, desde el aparente cuento infanfil inicial en los deliciosos parajes de La Comarca hasta el inquietante cuento de horror y tinieblas en que se convierte la aventura de los hobbits, son sobresalientes, disminuyendo un tanto la magnificencia del espectáculo, por ejemplo, en ciertos momentos, escasos pero algo chirriantes, en que las Minas de Moria o la ciudad de Rivendel son recreadas al modo y manera de los videojuegos, muñequitos incluidos.

En cuanto a la trama, la casi imposible adaptabilidad de una obra tan compleja, abundante y rica impone limitaciones, cortes y refritos tan comprensibles como inevitables. En esta primera parte, de ciento ochenta minutos de duración, al menos las labores de cortado y pegado no perjudican en modo alguno al conjunto más allá de lo habitual en una película de tres horas que alterna pasajes de enorme tensión y emoción con pausas de ritmo y escenas más contemplativas o largas (probablemente demasiado) transiciones. Sin embargo, lo que en entregas siguientes se convertirá en un problema (el ritmo y la excesiva duración, no digamos ya en las versiones extendidas que circulan en las ediciones de lujo en DVD), aquí queda meramente apuntado y es perdonable una vez que se juzga la majestuosidad de todo el metraje, convirtiéndose en virtud lo que a priori sería un defecto, la supresión de buena parte de lo superfluo y más farragoso del libro de Tolkien, aunque las tijeras de Jackson bien pudieran haber hecho algún que otro corte más y, por otro lado, el resultado final adolezca en algunos momentos de ciertas imprecisiones en la continuidad.

Todos estos aspectos técnicos, recompensados con cuatro premios Oscar de la Academia de Hollywood, hacen que la película sea toda una experiencia visual. Entrando, eso sí, en los aspectos dramáticos, la cosa cambia. En este punto tanto Jackson como los guionistas parten de un principio: el espectador conoce la obra de Tolkien y tiene una clara imagen de los personajes, por lo que no se molestan en introducirnos en la “realidad” de La Tierra Media ni en presentar los protagonistas al espectador más que en breves pinceladas arquetípicas que, si bien es cierto que permiten hacerse una idea del carácter de cada uno de una manera directa y rápida, hacen de todos ellos, exceptuando al Boromir de Sean Bean, unos personajes planos, previsibles, sin fuerza. Si a ello sumamos la ausencia de escenas en que la tensión o la emoción la pongan los personajes y no el entorno, la música, los paisajes o la violencia, nos encontramos con que la mayor parte de los actores no aportan a sus personajes más que la percha (excepción hecha quizá de McKellen, Holm, Bean o Wood) y que se limitan a cubrir etapas de su viaje como el muñeco escogido en un videojuego. Todo ello contribuye a que la película no sea una obra autónoma, sino que sea tributaria, quizá en demasía, de la información aportada por el libro que un espectador que sea desconocedor del mismo tendrá que completar de su propia cosecha si no quiere ver reducido lo que sucede en la pantalla a las escasas notas con que el director caracteriza personajes y fenómenos.

Con todo, y a pesar de los inconvenientes citados, la irrupción en la pantalla con la sala sala del cine a oscuras de las doradas letras del título de la cinta acompañadas por la estimable composición de Howard Shore (su música es quizá una de las mayores virtudes de la trilogía), supone una de las puertas abiertas a la fantasía más logradas del cine actual, un estallido de épica y magia, de grandilocuencia formal y profunda emotividad, de factura impecable y sutil majestuosidad, en la que triunfa claramente la forma sobre el fondo y cuyo desarrollo en las dos películas siguientes conservará, aunque no en la misma medida, las virtudes formales, y poco a poco acrecentará de manera ostensible los defectos apuntados.

My sentiments exactly. (Really. Click the link, read the post. And the blog. It’s very good.)

I write what I want to write, when I feel that I have something to say. I post images and movies that I find humorous. I enjoy doing it regardless of how many hits per day it generates. While readership is not an end-all, be-all, it’s gratifying to know that other people out there read and appreciate what I post.

A couple of weeks ago I experienced the same sensation that Mr. Masten describes in his post. At the BU football game I sat near my Criminal Practice and Procedure Professor and his son. After awhile his son came over and introduced himself to me, telling me that he reads Magnificent Vista and enjoys it. I recognized him as the author of Micah-Circuitry and returned the favor by telling him how much I enjoyed his blog. I figured that I’d tell you, too.

Micah’s an incredible young man. For starters, he’s an exceptionally talented writer. For a time I didn’t believe that he was the age he claims to be, but meeting him cleared that question up a little bit. He also is the inventor of that ingenious combination power-generator/sushi-producer/marine-mass-transit-system, the fish turbine. I kid you not, this thing will power the greater Seattle area and provide them with all the Omega-3 they could ever need all while helping fish reach their destination. It’s quite brilliant. Not only that, but Micah is somehow connected to the All-Seeing Eye of Sauron, who apparently has become part of Nevada (won’t we all someday?), and he captured the fabled Sorting Hat from Hogwarts. The Hat has been of little help, though, for either grading or for thesis statements. Most impressive of all, though, is the fact that Micah has recently become the arch-nemesis of that fabled Norseman of old, Hänes The Bloodthirsty. I personally am waiting with great anticipation for their next clash.

Keep an eye on him, folks. This one’s going places.

The embodiment of evil for all middle earth? Or Lady Gaga attending another wards ceremony?

(Sauron of The Lord Of The Rings)

Picture by: dunno source Caption by: arbie via Advanced Lol Builder

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Ja ta tuleb taas. Muutuv elektriväli põhjustab muutuvat magnetvälja jmt.

Sõrmuste isand sobib meeleoluga. Eks ole tore?

Ja nüüd võiks ette võtta ja natuke Sauronist kirjutada. Ma ei tea aga, millest alustada.

Muidugi tuleb tegemist teha Voldemortiga, sest temast ei pääse ei üle ega ümber. Niisiis, et midagi võrrelda, peab neil olema miski ühine.  Kuidas oleks sellega, et nad on nö Tumedad jõud? Võimunälg, alati üksi,isegi kui koos mõttekaaslastega, sest õige mõttekaaslane, on vaenlane, ainult vaated on teised, vastandlikud, kui sedagi, ehk ei lase ainult uhkus nõustuda kellegi teisega, olla järgija, mitte juht.

Mõned nädalad tagasi jäin ma korraks lambakarjale mõtlema. Aga see ei tundu enam päris õige võrdlus. Nimelt jõudsin ma järeldusele, et peale juhi ja järgija on veel üks – teerajaja. Mis vahe on teerajajal ja juhil? Nad võivad muidugi koos ühes isikus olla, aga ka eraldi. Näiliselt on vahe selles, et juhil on alati järgijad, ta ei saa olla juht tühjuses. Teerajaja on mingil hetkel grupist lahku löönud, ta kas läheb üksi, või kellegiga koos, aga kindlasti läheb ja nagu nimigi ütleb, rajab ta teed, ta muudab endale järgnemise lihtsamaks, heal juhul sillutab teed mõistmaks tema vaateid, jõudmaks samade veendumusteni, halvemal juhul murrab läbi võsa ja kui sa tal just esimesest hetkest sabas ei käi, ei suuda sa teda enam leida, ei mõista…

Nii on juhil kergem elu kui teerajajal, sest juht võib vabalt käia ammu sisse tallatud rada, kõigil on sama kerge talle järgneda, aga teerajaja peab kõigepealt ise edasi liikuma ja võimalusel ka teistel järgnemise kergemaks tegema.

Ja ma kadusin mõtetesse, seega hetkel edasi ei kirjuta.

CLASH OF THE GODS: TOLKIEN’S MONSTERS airs Monday, October 5 10PM/9c on HISTORY.

If you’re a history and military buff like me, The Lord of the Rings is a story tailor made for you: two massive armies facing each other on the battlefield about to be locked in combat. Now…just substitute Patton for a wizard in flowing white robes, the Nazis for a hideous race of creatures called Orcs, and Europe for Middle-earth.

Okay, that’s a wee bit simplistic (and not actually accurate…although written in spurts between 1937 and 1952, Tolkien always said that Lord of the Rings should never be read as an allegory for World War II.)

But what is it that has caused The Lord of the Rings to have sold over 150 million copies and to be translated into almost 40 languages? For me, it’s that feeling of real history, which gives Lord of the Rings its life. JRR Tolkien was obsessive about documenting his universe with dates, family trees, maps and indexes….hell, he even threw in a creation story. If it wasn’t for the fact that the characters are elves, dwarves, hobbits and wizards you’d think you were submersed in a history textbook.

So in Clash of the Gods, the goal was to figure out where all this inspiration came from. Much of The Lord of the Rings is about good overcoming evil, and Tolkien’s devout Catholicism provides the backbone. Comparisons of Frodo’s quest to Christ are plainly seen, but I think the most interesting tidbits are the ones found in Beowulf and other Norse myths. Tolkien doesn’t really hide in lifting almost exactly scenes from classic tales. The transformation of Smeagol into the creature Gollum almost exactly mirrors a tale in the Norse Volsunga Saga; and scenes like Bilbo stealing a cup in The Hobbit are directly lifted from Beowulf.

But more than any gods or monsters from ancient myth, I think it’s the personal pain that Tolkien suffered which gives The Lord of the Rings its foothold in reality. As a soldier in World War I, Tolkien was right in the middle of the action, watching friends killed and mutilated right in front of his eyes. When Tolkien writes about the same kind of suffering for Frodo there is a ring of truth that isn’t found in any other kind of fantasy writing.

Ultimately, it doesn’t matter to me that Tolkien stole stuff from tales of the past…that’s pretty what all writers do. But what he did was to make it his own and transform it into something new. A feat which many writers attempt, but few do successfully.

So I’m off to re-read The Lord of the Rings…150 million people can’t be wrong.

– Ted Poole, KPI Writer and Producer

CLASH OF THE GODS: TOLKIEN’S MONSTERS airs Monday, October 5 10PM/9c on HISTORY.

A shadowed figure
hires Electro to break
all out of the Raft.

Spidey gets unmasked,
Sentry rips Carnage in half,
Iron Man arrives.

New team assembled
No one can say no to Cap
Except Daredevil.

Electro is caught
Sauron’s the target, leading
to the Savage Land.

Everyone’s naked,
Wolverine has joined up
Sauron’s head was shot.

Avengers almost
blown up by Maria Hill
It’s an accident.

A l’accueil de secret Dream vous verrez 3 tps : l’un vous emmène vers les principaux lieux de la partie médiévale de Secret Dream, un autre vous transporte sur Japan Island, ambiance japonaise et un troisième vous conduit directement au Dojo Bamboo dont il est question dans un article plus haut. Sur Japanese Island vous attend un club house où prendre le thé, jouer du rumi et du taiko, profiter des japanese dances, faire sonner le gong, vous reposer après les combats en regardant quelques belles photos.. Vous verrez aussi le petit village qui abrite notre communauté d’amis. A proximité vous pourrez vous détendre sur la plage et danser à la disco au sommet du grand arbre. En résumé Secret Dream vous attend ! Venez vous balader tout simplement, “fighter” dcs et c:si,  danser, discuter entre ami(e)s, etc… La région est ouverte à toutes et tous. For Friendship, Freedom and Fun !! http://slurl.com/secondlife/Southern%20Exposure/24/176/22/

After the great battle at the gates of ex-Mordor, some remnant ex-forces from the ex-army of ex-Sauron wander the world until they eventually find a new employer, a gay piercing-freak named Xerxes.

Said gay guy happens to be really really loaded and also happens to be into submission, but the Persian Empire (which he happened to be the emperor of) didn’t take homosexuality too well, so he decided to take over Greece, where homosexuality was instead quite common and socially acceptable (if not even reccomended!).

Xerxes especially wanted to get la… err, to become friends with the Spartans, who were well known for their six-pack abs, their leather briefs and their long, sturdy spears.

Too bad the Spartans didn’t really want to share a single partner, let alone a stranger who might carry who knows what STD’s and whatnot, so they told him to shove it (which, in Spartan Greek, sounds like “This is Sparta!”).

End of the story, Xerxes is struck by a teenager nervous breakdown, and he kills them all (with no small aid from Sauron’s remnant forces).

Incidentally, in the meanwhile, a very hot oracle (famous for having the hardest nipples ever seen on Middle-Earth)  gets raped by some really old and diseased men. Also, a hot MILF gets B-side raped, too.

So since he who has control over good things can do all things, whereas those who control evil things cannot do everything, it is clear that those who can do evil things are less powerful.

The professor whom I am assisting in the course on Boethius neatly divides Boethius’s “evil beings” into three categories.  Some men are evil through ignorance, because they simply do not know what the good is, or because they are deceived.  Some are evil through weakness of the will, because they know what is good but they desire evil more than the good.  But some are evil through malice, and they do what is evil because they know it is evil.  They take delight in the harm they cause.

In the case of Tolkien’s characters, at least the ones who are tempted by and succumb to the Ring, the first two categories seem to merge.  Through weakness of will Isildur keeps the Ring on account of its beauty, and he is thereby deceived into thinking it harmless.  Through ignorance, Bilbo and Frodo keep and use the Ring for many years, and it wears away the strength of their wills to the point that Bilbo barely gives it up, and Frodo cannot do so at all, even though at the last he knows with perfect clarity how evil it is.  Gollum desires the beauty of the Ring from the beginning, and murders for it; he is then deceived into thinking that, with the Ring’s help, he can learn great secrets under the mountains.  In all such cases, the action of the Ring depends on deception and the weakness of its wearer’s will, and its result is not to increase the wearer’s power, but to drain it away.

But what of the beings who are evil for evil’s own sake?  In what sense are they powerless?  Here I think my two previous meditations pertain the most.  For it is of these evil men, and only of these evil men, that Boethius asserts that they simply do not exist.  He qualifies this, of course, by saying that such men do not exist as men—they exist as something less, as corpses exist.  But do what sorts of powers pertain to a corpse?

… All power is to be reckoned among desirable things, and all desirable things are related to the good as to the high point of their nature.  But the capacity to wreak evil cannot be related to the good, and so is not something to be desired.  Yet all power is desirable, so it is clear that capacity for evil is not a power.

As it is with the Ring, so it is with Sauron and all evil beings.  They possess no powers except temptation and deception, acting like parasites on the ignorance and weakness of other beings.  In cases where these other beings resist temptation and deceit, they sometimes have the power to destroy.  But Sauron and all his ilk are wholly powerless to create: they can only destroy what has already been created.  They are powerful in the sense that leeches are powerful, deriving their capacity to cause harm only from the constitution of their victims, and not from any real power radiating from their own beings.

You see kings seated high on lofty thrones,
In gleaming purple bright, fenced by grim arms,
Speechless with rage, threats on their louring brows.
Draw back this veil of arrogant, empty show,
Then see close chains which bind the lords within.
Lust with its poisonous greed excites their hearts;
Wild anger whips up storm-waves in their minds;
Grief plagues these captives, slippery hope torments.
The king you see by many lords possessed,
His aims frustrated, by harsh masters pressed.

Or, as Boethius writes in the following chapter:

True voices and true shapes were lost;
Bereft of human norms,
Their minds alone endured unchanged
To mourn their monstrous forms.

(Consolation of Philosophy, V.2 & 3)

“But evil men, you will say, have power.”

My second meditation on Boethius begins with his own objection.  Having pressed his claim that evil men do not exist, Boethius comes to the sticking point:  if evil men don’t exist, why are they so powerful?  This is neither more nor less than the problem we have with Sauron and the Nazgul.  If Tolkien really embraces the Boethian/Augustinian view that evil is nothing, why is it that his evil creatures can cause so much harm?

“I would not deny this myself, but their power stems not from their strength but from their weakness.”

What weakness is this?

“If, as we concluded a little earlier, evil is nothing, it is obvious that wicked men have no power, because they can perform only evil deeds.”

This is hard to swallow.

The thing is that you can’t criticize Boethius for not knowing how much harm an evil person can do.  You can’t bring the Holocaust or World War II against him.  As Boethius pens the lines above, he is witnessing the final collapse of Roman civilization while pining in the prison whither he has been sent after betrayal and disgrace by his fellow senators.  The wicked men he mentions will eventually put him to death—an eventuality that he already suspects.  So there is no telling him that he does not know what he is talking about when it comes to the power wielded by evil men.

But power, Boethius suggests, is always a power for something.  Now, what if you set about to get something you want, but it turns out that every power you thought you had ends up hindering you in your quest?  Clearly these “powers” would not be real powers at all—they would be handicaps, because they would render you powerless to fulfill your desires.

It is precisely this that becomes the curse of the wicked.  For they too have desires (for happiness of course, like the rest of us), but they have chosen the ways of evil to bring them about.  And the problem with the ways of evil is that they take no account of the good.  But the good, as Boethius argues, is what all desire, and what is necessary for happiness.  Thus, having cultivated the wrong powers and become strong in the wrong paths, evil men are powerless to attain the good.

What is the weakness of Sauron?  It is the weakness that Boethius ascribes to the evil man.  “He is very wise,” Gandalf says of Sauron, “and weighs all things to a nicety in the scales of his malice.  But the only measure that he knows is desire, desire for power; and so he judges all hearts.”  In his weakness of mistaking power for the only desirable good, Sauron is blind to all other goods.  On this blindness depends the web and weft of the ensuing plot:  Sauron cannot think that someone would refuse power, and actively seek to destroy the One Ring.