If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!?

paparush · January 10, 2003, 8:56pm

-George Lucas

SCENE: Atop Barad-Dur. Sauron looming over Frodo, weilding that wrought-iron mace thingy…

Sauron: Gandalf never told you what happened to your father…

Frodo: He told me enough! He told me you killed him!

Sauron: No Frodo…I am your father!!

Frodo: (Trembling on the brink of tears in very ~whiny~ voice)No…it’s not true…That’s impossible!!

Sauron: Search your feelings…you know it to be true…
-James Cameron

SCENE: Frodo atop Barad-Dur. Stiff wind blows his hair and clothes back. Sam stands behind Frodo.

MOTION: Pan out/around.

Frodo raises both hands above his hands and shouts “I’M KING OF THE WORLD!!”

snoodle · January 10, 2003, 9:06pm

** null-bock

Der Ring by Karl Marx

This is of course ridiculous; the Ring and the war is used merely as a means to distract and manipulate the great majority of society while maximizing the benefit and minimizing the loss to the respective ruling cultures. Have there been wars fought over the Ring before? Of course there have, ending not in the destruction of one or the other, but rather ultimately promoting the status quo, albeit with a moderate shift in the balance of power. Will there be future wars for the Ring? **

Great take on Marx; I salute you!!!
My own was rather different:
Das Ring

Chapter One: The Ring as Commodity

The Two factors of the Ring as Commodity: Use-Value and Exchange-Value

(Or, How Isildur and the Fellowship Screwed you, the Worker)

The wealth of societies in which the Dwarven mode of production prevails appears as an ‘immense collection of Rings of Power’; the individual, or One, Ring appears as its elementary form. Our investigation therefore begins with the analysis of the One Ring as commodity.

The Ring is, first of all, an external object, a thing which through its qualities of evil power, invisibility, or longevity-extension satisfies human, hobbit, elven, dwarvish, Orc, and others’ needs of whatever kinds. The nature of these needs, whether they arise, for example, from the stomach (as in the case of Hobbits), or in the imagination, makes no difference. Nor does it matter here HOW the Ring satisfies one’s need, whether directly as a means of subsistence (ie., when bitten off of a finger as an object of consumption), or indirectly as a means of production (as of Uruk-hai).

Every useful thing, ie., mithril, pipeweed, etc., may be looked at from the two points of view of quality and quantity. Every useful thing is a whole composed of many properties; it can therefore be useful in different ways…

The usefulness of a Ring makes it a use-value. But this usefulness does not dangle in mid air; it is conditioned by the physical properties of the Ring, and has no existence apart from the latter. It is therefore the physical body of the Ring as commodity itself which is the use-value or useful thing. In the case of the One Ring, that physical existence is inextricable from the labor of the worker, Sauron, which was utilized to create it; one might, therefore, state that the essence of the Ring contains a part of the essence of Sauron himself, and is indivisible from him. In separating the worker (Sauron) from the product of his labor (the One Ring), Isildur (the Feudal Lord transitioning to Capitalist) had not only alienated Sauron from his own labor-product, but also from the means of production of a new Ring (ie., his corporeal body, which would be necessary to fulfill any further evil-creation acts). Moreover, the glorified accounts of this episode perpetuated by Isildur’s petit-bourgeois vassals and the elven upper classes served to disguise the true nature of his actions from the lower classes for over two millennia. Yet Rings of Power are also the material bearers of Exchange Value.

Exchange-value appears first of all as the quantitative relation, the proportion, in which use values of one kind (evil power, invisibility, etc.) exchange for use-values of another kind (incorporeal immortality, unnatural strength, and so on). This relation changes constantly with time and place. Hence exchange-value appears to be something accidental and purely relative…Let us examine the matter more closely.

A given commodity, a Ring of Power, for example, is exchanged in one place (The Shire) and in one time (near the end of the Third Age), for one nice long retirement in Rivendell and a trip to the West, or one nasty torturous death at the hands of black riders, or an almost as nasty, and much more lengthy and tiresome, journey to the Crack of Doom and some rather bizarre companions. In short, it is exchanged for other commodities in the most diverse proportions. Therefore the Ring has many exchange values instead of one. But X retirements, Y nasty deaths, Z strange companions on weird trips, each represent the exchange value of One Ring. Therefore X retirements, Y nasty deaths, Z strange companions on weird trips must, as exchange-values, be mutually replaceable or of identical magnitude. It follows from this that, firstly, the valid exchange-values of a particular commodity express something equal, and secondly, it is good to know before beginning to barter whether you would prefer a vacation, a nasty death, or a long tormented journey with some new friends. The difference, of course, is in their use-values: as use-values, commodities (Rings, vacations, nasty deaths, long trips) differ above all in quality, while as exchange values they can only differ in quantity (ie., ten thousands of nasty deaths for one ring at Helm’s deep versus the one of such proposed in the Shire earlier).

If then we disregard the use-value of rings, only one property remains, that of being properties of labour. But even the product of labour has already been transformed by this: with the disappearance of the useful character of the products of labour, (ie., Rings of Power), the useful character of the kinds of labour embodied in them also disappear. One must remember that use-values are only realized in use or in consumption. They constitute the material content of wealth, whatever its social form may be. Gandalf’s insistence that no one of the Fellowship use the Ring thus had the effect of alienating all of the Middle Earth laborers from the use-value of the One Ring. Boromir’s desire to use the Ring was a natural response to this inherent use-value, finally realized in Gollum’s terminal act of consumption of the Ring as an edible (in which he himself, unfortunately, was extinguished).

Since the amount of labour put into the production of the Ring, both as material item, and as mythical gimmick, far exceeded that of any other single commodity in the entirety of Middle Earth, we must, whatever our political bent, regard its destruction as one of the most heinous crimes against the whole category of labourers in the whole of the first Three Ages.

Hawkblood · January 10, 2003, 9:14pm

Twilight Zone Epilogue to “The Lord of the Rings”

“Just a ring, a dark depository where are kept immense evil, and make-believe pieces of gold and power, wrought in the distorted image of human life. But this added, a hopeful note: perhaps the fellowship is unloved only for the moment. In the arms of Middle Earth there can be nothing but love. Four hobbits, a wizard, a dwarf, an elf, an elven princess and an heir apparent. Tonight’s cast of players on the odd stage known as the Twilight Zone.”

tinuviel · January 10, 2003, 10:01pm

this is a great thread, it really captured my attention, and my imagination. You guys are all so clever…this stuff is hilarious. I will give you my contribution, even though i am not very clever at all, and i’m sure someone else could have done a better job (i invite you to), and i know it’s kinda dumb and i hate avril lavigne, but here it is anyways:

Ranger Boi
by Arwen Lavigne

She was a girl, he was a boi,
Can I make it any more obvious?
He had a sword, she had one too,
What more could they do?

But fight in a war, to save Middle-Earth
From the One Ring and Sauron’s curse
She thought it was love, but she just got snubbed
‘Cuz he was in love with an elvish girl

He was a ranger boi, she said “see ya later boi,
I gotta go lead the elderly
To a cavern/refuge thing, on the order of the king
Although I’d much rather fight bravely”

A few months from now, she sits at camp
Dressed as a soldier, she’s not a tramp
Looks over there, what does she see?
But ranger boi leading a big army

She thought he was cool, but she was a fool
Mistook it for real lovey-dovey feelings
But now that she’s here, and met Faramir
She might be thinking of other things…

He was a ranger boi, she said “see ya later boi,
I gotta go kill the nazgul king
I’ll talk to that steward dude, (‘cuz I think he’s kinda cute)
After the unmaking of the Ring”

Sorry, “E”, but you missed out,
If you don’t know what I’m talking about
Ranger boi is more than my friend
And this is how the story ends
It’s too bad you couldn’t see,
See the king that boi could be
Sure, your steward’s pretty cool,
But he was never meant to rule

I am an elf, he is a man,
Could I make it any more obvious?
We are in love, ruling the land
We rule hand in hand

Too bad for you, that you didn’t know
You could have saved yourself from the curse
Of loving a man, who loved an elf girl…
And now we rock each other’s Middle-Earth…

Now I’m with the ranger boi
I said “see ya later boi,
I’ll meet you in Gondor after the war.
I’ll be in the elf parade, waving the flag I made
Marrying the king I made it for”

amy_attorney · January 10, 2003, 10:26pm

more Rod Sterling…because I simply couldn’t resist (apologies ahead of time because I doubt this will be as good as it should or could be…)

(Twilight Zone theme music plays in the back ground…)

Narrator: You’re traveling to another dimension. A dimension not only of sight and sound, but of mind. A journey into a wondrous land who’s boundaries are only that of the imagination. You’re on a deserted road in the middle of the night…a signpost up ahead… You’re about to enter…the Twilight Zone…

(music swells, then fades)

Narrator: Submitted for your approval…a Hobbit on his eleventy-first birthday…surrounded by friends and relatives…yet somehow still…unsatisfied… His name: Bilbo Baggins.

Bilbo: Gandalf, I know you’re right…It must be destroyed… Just…just give me a moment.

Gandalf: Bilbo. Give me the Ring.

Bilbo (eyes flashing): NO! It’sss mine!

(Bilbo realizes what’s he’s said and looks horror struck…thrusts the Ring at Gandalf)

Bilbo: Take it! Take it!

Gandalf: Bilbo, you’ve earned a rest. Why not travel to Rivendell and relax there, among friends?

Bilbo (still obviously shaked): Yes…yes…Rivendell…good idea…yes…

(Bilbo exits. Gandalf waits a bit, smoking his pipe. Frodo enters)

Frodo: Oh! Gandalf! You’re still here… (looks around) I was just looking for Uncle Bilbo.

Gandalf: Frodo…your Uncle has gone…but he left something for you.

Frodo: Something for me, Gandalf?

Gandalf: Yes Frodo. You see this Ring? Hold it close to the Fire…can you see writing on it, Frodo?

(Frodo takes the Ring and looks at it)

Frodo: No…I…no…wait…yes…but I can’t read it, Gandalf.

Gandalf: I can… You’re going to have to go away, Frodo.

Frodo: Me? Leave the Shire? But Gandalf, why?

Gandalf: Because the Ring must be destroyed, Frodo.

Frodo: Destroyed? But…but I don’t understand…

Gandalf: Come along Frodo…we must get you to Rivendell.

(Scene fades. We see Bilbo, traveling along a dark deserted road on a cart with a slow but sturdy pony.)

Bilbo: I don’t like this…I think I took a wrong turning somewhere… Perhaps when I thought the cart was going to overturn when that fast-moving rider all in black went past…

(Bilbo sees a man walking along the road)

Bilbo: Sir! I say, Sir! Is this the road to Rivendell?

(the man waves, then turns off the road into the woods. Bilbo continues on his way)

Bilbo: Hmmph. Fine sort of manners he has!!

(The dark journey continues. A bit further down the road (which has been very straight), Bilbo sees what appears to be the same man)

Bilbo: Sir! I say, Sir! Didn’t I just see you? I say, is this the road to Rivendell?

(the man waves and turns off into the woods again. Bilbo stares after him, perplexed)

Bilbo: hmmph.

(this scene repeats several times…)

(eventually, Bilbo sees a country store by the side of the road and decides to stop for directions. As he steps up onto the porch, he sees a newspaper)

Bilbo: Ah…haven’t read the news for what seems like days, now…Let’s see what’s new…

(He picks up the paper and sees his own picture under a headline reading “Bilbo Baggins Killed In Cart Accident Day After Eleventy-First Birthday”)

(scene fades)

(We see Frodo and Gandalf talking with Elrond in Rivendell)

Gandalf: The accident scene looked a might suspicious to me, Elrond. I think there are evil forces at work…and I think we know why.

Elrond (nodding): Yes, Gandalf. I think you’re right.

Frodo: Poor Uncle Bilbo…that cart accident…right after his eleventy-first birthday, too… (sighs)

(scene fades)

Narrator: Sometimes Death appears as a man walking along a dark and solitary road. To Bilbo Baggins, Death appeared several times. On his way to Rivendell, Bilbo took an unexpected trip…to The Twilight Zone…

jasontag · January 10, 2003, 10:38pm

It is possibly unnecessary to the readers of this thread, but if there is anyone here who has not read Harvard Lampoon’s “Bored Of The Rings”, then (physically or virtually) run, do not walk, to the bookstore and buy it. I read it when it first came out in the late 60s, and almost choked with laughter. My buddy got detention when he was reading it in study hall and couldn’t stop laughing. The humor is broad, but highly inspired. “'Twas pity that stayed his hand…”

Jeff

Gyrate · January 10, 2003, 10:39pm

The Streets of Mordor (after The Streets of London)

Have you seen the spider
That haunts the walls of Mordor,
Dining on orcs in a pitch-black cave?
Left in brood in poisoned air
In her dark and lethal lair
Until two hobbits turned it into her grave.

So how can you tell me you’re lonely
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Mordor;
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

Have you seen the Ringwraiths,
Now the nine Black Riders,
Memories fading of their former time as kings?
Once they ruled in sunlit lands;
Now their doom is on their hands,
Condemned forever by the curse on their rings.

So how can you tell me you’re lonely
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Mordor;
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

Have you seen the Hobbit
Who bears an awesome burden,
Wending his way to the Cracks of Doom?
Tempted by the Ring of Power
He grows weaker by the hour,
Tortured and driven towards damnation or the tomb.

So how can you tell me you’re lonely
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Mordor;
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

Have you seen the wizard
Who rules the land of Mordor,
Too weak to conquer, but too strong to die?
From the top of Orodruin,
All he sees is death and ruin
Forced to manifest as a great big flaming eye.

So how can you tell me you’re lonely
And say for you that the sun don’t shine?
Let me take you by the hand
And lead you through the streets of Mordor;
I’ll show you something to make you change your mind.

Malacandra · January 10, 2003, 10:46pm

Apologies if someone’s already done this one, but I’ve been trying to keep up with this thread and I don’t think I’ve seen him yet…

Guys And Trolls

It comes on a Spring evening when I am sitting at home thinking of not much except how pleasant it is to be the Master of Bag End ever since my uncle Bilbo parts his mooring, and listening to the tweeting sounds in the dusk outside, that there comes a knock on my door. Now I wish you to understand that I am by no means unused to knocks on my door, for although I never care to hitch myself up to an ever-loving wife I am often kept company by certain members of the Baggins family, and by some Tooks and Brandybucks also, even though the Sackville-Bagginses are playing the chill for me since Uncle takes it on the lam from his own birthday party and is leaving me the hole they have their peepers on these six decades past. Still, this knocking has more hastiness in it than most, and I am wondering if the knocker has some reason for haste such as I will not care to be getting mixed up in, as I am not needing any hard guys disturbing me just now.

But pretty soon I am having to get up and answer the door before it has a hole pounded in it, which I do not want as my door looks just fine without any holes in it, and if it has a hole pounded in it I shall have to get it fixed, which is sure to set me back a finnif at least, if not a sawbuck. And when I open the door, I have to step aside somewhat smartish before I will be trampled underfoot by old Gandalf the Grey, who is beating feet as if he is pursued by the father and five tough brothers of some doll with plenty of curves and not too many brains.

Gandalf, who is a thaumaturge of considerable repute, though better known in this man’s town for his pyrotechnics, is not being seen hereabouts for several years, and I wonder if he maybe spends some time in the college upstate, but I do not ask, as he is a man who sometimes resents too much curiosity where his private business is concerned. He gives me such a look as I will not say is a frantic look, but it will certainly do until a frantic look comes along, and croaks out “Is it secret? Is it safe?” as if he is leaving me to take care of his latest payment to Lemmy the Loanshark. I should say that Lemmy is apt to remove certain trifling portions of a client’s anatomy if the dough is an hour late, and I hear that he sometimes stretches the point to half an hour, and maybe fifteen minutes if he is not feeling good.

Some day I will tell you all about Lemmy the Loanshark, but today I am going to tell you about Gandalf. He is, as I know well, anxious about a certain item that my uncle Bilbo leaves behind him when he scrams following his birthday speech. This is a ring, although not the kind of hoopla that a guy will be making his pitch to some doll with as it is somewhat lacking in the sparklies. My uncle comes by this on his travels with Gandalf and some bearded characters long before I am born into this vale of tears. The way my uncle tells this, he is either winning the ring in a riddle contest in some deep cave, or finding it in one. Personally I will lay plenty of six to four that the riddle story is so much phonus balonus, as such guys as are hanging around in holes in the ground are not in the habit of possessing much in the way of personal ornamentation, and they will not be giving it away to any passing find-the-lady artist if they do have it, and as to the finding, I further consider this may be the kind of finding that the gendarmes are likely to show much interest in, should they be hearing about it.

Anyway, Gandalf tells me, this ring, which my uncle leaves me along with the old burrow and every fixture and fitting within its walls, is the work of the wickedest sorceror to set foot in Middle-Earth in two ages of the world, and I do not need to tell you that two ages is a very long time indeed, especially when you are in the sneezer. When Gandalf pitches it into the fire, it starts in to making with some red-hot letters, and though I cannot read what they say, I am sure I will be leaving town in under five minutes if anyone says them to me. The Dark Lord is losing this ring years and years ago when the last King of the Elves and some Man with a fancy name is giving him a busted snoot, and now he is wanting it back.

Now although I am partial to this old thing of my uncle’s, I am more partial to my peace and quiet, and it strikes me that I may not get much of either if the Dark Lord comes to request the return of his erstwhile property, as such guys as earn the name of Dark Lord are as a rule inclined to be somewhat persistent in their requesting, and may commence to wax more than ironic if they do not get their own way. And since Gandalf not only tells me that there is no forge in the world where this toy can be melted or bent up, except the volcano where the Dark Lord makes it, but starts in with the weeping and wailing when I suggest he may care to accept the ring as a present with my best of goodwill, I reach the conclusion that I shall have to be kissing my peace and quiet goodbye any which way.

Personally I will as soon be five minutes late with the potatoes for Lemmy the Loanshark, as I am doubting that the quest I am heading for will see me returning with a whole skin, or at any rate with as many fingers as I begin it…
–Damon Runyon–

Ashtoreth · January 10, 2003, 11:14pm

Had a dream last night in which I was in the John Woo version of ‘Lord of the Rings.’ I guess I was playing Sam’s role. We were in an inn at Bree, everything all quasi-Tudor style, and I saw this big scarecrow-looking guy with a scythe and I ran to warn Frodo (played by Elijah Wood, naturally), and as I’m coming through the doorway, the guy is behind him, raising his scythe… I pull a couple of automatics out of the back of my belt and put about two magazines’ worth into him before he falls. I guess he was supposed to be a Nazgul. My hands act on their own, doing this neat move, where they drop the spent clips, pull another two from my belt, slam them home, then cock the guns by grinding the slides into my sides. Then the room is full of Chinese guys in shirtsleeves, fielding Berettas and Uzis and shit. I cover Frodo, mowing down the first wave, and he and I try to exit but they just keep coming… by this time Frodo has pulled his sidearms as well, and we stand back-to-back in the center of the room, plugging frenzied Hong Kong gangsters, turning in tandem so we don’t put lead in each other or have anyone get the drop on us.

Pucky_Schumer · January 10, 2003, 11:25pm

If “Lord of the Rings” had been written by the Rev. Spooner

Balbo Biggins was hitting in his souse and poking a smipe. He was laughing over the wonderful ploke he had jade -- a marvelous pisadearring act. 

Suddenly the boor durst open. Standing there was a tall figure, Grandalf the Gay. He was a wait grizard who could spast kells and fagic mormulas. 

“You’re a had Bobbit,” said Grandalf the Gay. 

“Don’t get your bickers in a nunch,” said Balbo, burrowing his frau. “Ruts wong?” 

“Oh, puh-leeeze,” said Grandalf the Gay. “As I’ve suspected all along, you must pee in bossession of the Run Wing.” 

“The Run Wing!” exclaimed Balbo. “You’ve been smoking too much wipe peed.” 

“Nay, it is that very ring that was taken from the lark dord Sauron in a bitched pattle.” 

“Did you come to rake my ting?” Balbo stammered. 

“No, I tare not dutch it. It is arvil inkeynate! But we have to keep it from the lark dord Sauron.” 

“Sauron? But I though he dit the bust.” 

“No, he lives on as an isembodied dye. Now you must rake the ting and throw it into the Dacks of Croom.” 

“Me? Take it to the Dacks of Croom? Helll-loooo, Grandalf. It’s me, Balbo Biggins. I’m a Hobbit, remember? Short, rotund, retiring. Fairy heat.” 

“Even so, the ring thrust be moan into the Dacks of Croom.” 

“And I’m supposed to do it? What about all those ucking Forcs out there? Not to ention the Ments.” 

“I don’t know, maybe we could get up some kind of a Fellowship or something. Get companions for you. How about Dimli the Gwarf? He has great bowress in prattle.” 
 
(Note: We interrupt this parody with a public service announcement. If everyone on this board sends a nickel to Pucky, he promises to stop doing this. Now back to our regularly scheduled post.) 
 
Bodo Fraggins looked with disgust on his companions, Perry and Mippen ...

amy_attorney · January 10, 2003, 11:29pm

Pucky,
This thread is already killing my laser printer. Please desist.
grin

surferdave · January 11, 2003, 1:08am

That book was a riot! Who could forget Frito, Spam, Moxie & Pepsi?

more fun to be found here :

Return of the Gungan?

Pucky_Schumer · January 11, 2003, 1:25am

I think the admins are going to have to cast this thread into the Dacks of Croom.

paparush · January 11, 2003, 2:17am

My apologies for continually posting to this thread. I’m like a junky w/ the key to the medicine chest…
-Ring of the Edmund Fitzgerald by JRR Lightfoot

The legend lives on
From the Old Took on down
How Frodo bore
the Ring of Power

The Ring it is said
never lets you be dead
Bends your mind to it
each waking hour…

etc…

Looking out my Back Door by CCRR Tolkein

Just got back from Mordor
Lock the front door Sam boy
Got to sit down take a rest
On the porch

Looking for some pipeweed
That’s the stuff that I need
doot doot doot
Ring of Power no more!

Tamborines and Oliphants
are playing in the band
Wontcha take a ride a on white mare through the footsteps of Doom (it’s Jimmy Page’s Birthday!)

Jan Brady joins Sam, Frodo, and Gollum as they approach Mordor…
Sam: Jan…what do you see out there?
Jan: Nothing but Marshes! Marshes! Marshes!!

Peter Brady joins Sam, Frodo, Gollum and Jan…
Gollum: Petesses…what’s for dinner?
Peter: We’re having Lembas and applesauce!!

Kolya_son_of_Kili_son_of_Thror · January 11, 2003, 2:31am

"Once, I was an angel, indeed, a Maia of Yule, in those naive days when I not only believed in the glory of light (as indeed, I still do, though few would fail to mock such an idea if ever I ventured to state it), but, indeed, knew of no other existence. For ages I basked in the joy of a youthful universe yet unspoiled by such as I became, a loathsome defiler of the highest order, though, as you will understand, not entirely of my own eagerness to manifest such an inner beast. There exist yet among the Maia enough remnants of ancient lore to vindicate my claims of a humbly consecrated early youth. But, alas, the mantle of holiness was not to remain as my wardrobe, for as destiny ordained I threw in my lot with Melkor, that greatest and blackest of the Valar. What I might give for the chance to have show him my back, if the hands of time could but be reversed.

But I solicit the reader’s sympathy where it is not my due, as I’m sure most of you would be quick to remind me. For, after Morgoth (as the Black one was later called) was led away from Middle-Earth in chains and his dark fortress dismantled to shards, still I resisted the redemption offered me by the Valar but for the price of penance. I, Sauron, Gorthaur the Cruel, was to prostrate myself before Manwe, the starry-eyed servant of a music long since fallen irrevokably into dischord? This I could not do, though, as you will believe, I tried. Illuvatar knows, and I assure you he knows and he alone, how devastatingly I tried, and would have yielded all future victories of my own genius to have again beheld even for an instant the white shores of Valinor and the fragrant lawns beyond. But submit to Manwe I could not do, and…

But what is this?! Baggins! The wisp of tow holds the ring over the flames of Mount Doom! My precious ring! Fly, my Nazgul! Oh, this is too much! I am to follow my ancient mentor into the Void through the effort of…a wisp of toe?!! Surely I have been but a housecat’s plaything all along, the sum of my glories but the jest of Powers beyond my ken, my Great Ring the punchline…"

At this woeful juncture, Sauron’s words digressed into quite a pathetic mumble whose effect on the gallery was most impressive. There ensued a momentarily stunned silence, and even a smattering of sympathy from the widows. His case, of course, was utterly lost.

-----Fyodor Dostoevsky

FranticMad · January 11, 2003, 3:17am

The principal foundations of a good state are good armies and good laws. Whereas a Dark Lord in alliance with Evil has no need of laws, save his own whim, I shall speak of good armies.

I say then, that the armies which a Dark Lord uses are either mercenaries, or his own. If they are mercenaries they are disloyal, dependent on food and drink, and in the main unreliable. Therefore the wise Dark Lord manufactures his own armies with beings of his own design. These creatures he lavishes all with favors and delights, yet can throw them by the thousands into battle and certain death without fear of repercussion. Thus have many Dark Lords conquered kingdoms in times past. Consider the history of the state of Mordor, which was once free and without opposition…

amy_attorney · January 11, 2003, 3:22am

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If LotR Had Been Written By Someone Else!?

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