Wednesday, July 26, 2006 - JRR Tolkein

JRR Tolkien lived until his eightieth year before reaching fame with his fantasy trilogy The Lord of the Rings. One of the most successful literary phenomena the world has ever known, it has sold many millions of copies, been translated into a hit series of films and spawned some of the saddest fantasy artwork ever seen.

How did Tolkien come to create his great land of goblins and elks, Morlocks and Ewoks? To find the answer we have to go back to his childhood in Bloemfontein, South Africa.

Tolkien in 1971 at the age of 79.

Childhood Tragedy
Born in 1890, John Roger Roger Tolkien's early years in South Africa were uneventful. His mother, an African Princess and circus contortionist, committed suicide in a tragic accident in the ring. She was buried in a coffin only two feet square, in a ceremony presided over by his father, an Anglican priest with transvestite tendencies.

After this tragedy the family moved to England, where Tolkien studied Anglo-saxon philosophy at Oxbridge University, Cambridge. There he met Malcom Muggeridge, erstwhile Philosopher and part time Toblerone Salesman, who was to have a great influence expanding the youngster's developing mind. In 1981 Muggeridge recalled:

"One saw this tanned, slim chap across the playing field, talking gaily to some college triple-jumpers. From the angle of his stance I could tell he had a sizeable intellect, and I knew at once that he would be a firm friend."

Muggeridge took young John under his wing, and they studied the classics together late into the night. For his final year Tolkien specialized in Chaucer, writing the foreword to the 1915 edition of The Aromatherapist's Tale which won the Nobel Prize for Most inpenetrable Foreword in 1930.

One of Tolkien's first drawings, of an elf,

revealing the heartache he suffered

after the death of his mother.

Influences
After graduating Tolkien taught at the university for a further forty years, alongside such luminaries as CS Lewis (author of The Chronic Narnia) and Charles Williams, inventor of black boot polish. These friends created a writing club called The Inklings, and thus, immersed in academia, Tolkien began to confuse English folklore and mythology with real life. Constantly spurred on by his equally sexually frustrated academic colleagues, he invented the fantasy world of Middle Earth, the language of the Elves, characters like Aragorn the Straddler, Bent Bob Bombadil, and the evil Klingons.

The Hobbit
His first book, The Hobbit, was published in 1937. It concerned the journey of little Bilbo Baggins, who finds a terrible ring of power, puts it on his finger and comes over all queer. Chased by evil alien Gollum, Baggins drops the ring in a puddle and goes back home.

The Lord of the Rings
Following on from this, Tolkien's epic The Lord of the Rings was a work for adults. It was published in three parts, The Fellowship of the Ring, The Two Towers (named, with extraordinary lack of sensitivity, after the terrible events in New York over forty years later), and The Return of The King. In this tale Bilbo's son Frodo discovers the ring and runs across Middle Earth, chased once again by Gollum and the Dark Lord Saruman. Due to its success with ordinary people it proved unpopular with critics.

Donald Humphrey in the Daily Telegraph wrote:

"What a pile of Pants"

The Silmarillion
Tolkien struggled to complete his last great work — The Silmarillion — before his death. Told in quasi-biblical language, it chronicles the legend of the thirteen Silmarils through three hundred centuries of Middle Earth history. On publication it received mixed reviews. Some say it contains some of the most sublimely beautiful prose-poetry published in English:

Fonwé Urion son of Manwe, love of Urüwan shalt in time be Melko's bane, and such things shalt be thusly and in this wise told in the hearts of men. The time is not ready for the rising forth, obtained through Ulmo with the help of Uïn, across a magic bridge of Sound. Now, Thingol said, therefore we must hence toward the Encircling Mountains afore Amon Gwáreth releases his monsters of Iron including them Balrogs and that.

"I'm up for that, come on Engerlund", said Uïn, and off they went.

— The Fall of Turambar and the Foalókë

Others say that it's the product of a man with a poor social life and too much time on his hands. However, the book became a cult hit with the new breed of students, who read into the tales a philosophy of free love and drug worship, or anything else they fancied doing. Such was the appetite for The Silmarillion that on the day of publication, over twelve copies were sold (although most were subsequently returned).

Fans like to dress up

as characters from Middle Earth,

The Legacy 
This was just the start of the Tolkien phenomenon. During his lifetime he had amassed an enormous body of work. Under the editorship of his son Christopher, these archives were posthumously published as The History of Middle Earth in 237 volumes, with a twelve volume index and 320-volume glossary. To date only one complete set has been sold, as part of a book club introductory offer.

Tolkien died in 1972. In his will he left his entire estate to King Aïnwèlint of the Forest of Mablüng.

A scene from The Two Towers movie adaptation.

Note the Tower of Isinguard in the distance.

The elves have been superimposed using

state-of-the-art blue-screen effects.

Bibliography
The Hobbit (1937)
The Lord of the Rings (1955)
The Silmarillion (1972)

Published posthumously
Sir Gawain, the Green Knight and Other Crappy Poems (1973)
The Book of Lost And Subsequently Rediscovered Tales I-23 (1974-2002)
The Instructions of Benylin (1975)
Unfinished Tales (1977)
The Tolkien Desk Diary (1980-2002)
Middle Earth Calendar (1980-2002)
The Post-it Notes of JRR Tolkien (1987)
Poor Soil: Gardening in Mordor (1997)
Frodo Baggins' DIY Secrets (2000)
Gandalf's Book of the World Cup 2002 (2002)
Unstarted Tales (NYP)

8 Track Recordings 
The Benga bus is coming (Mordor Mix)- P Diddy v JRR. (1995)

Nicely Plagiarised and reworked by me from a Helena Fitzroy article, so there :)

Tuesday, April 11, 2006 - Sad Big U

Saturday, January 7, 2006 - Planes, Trains and Automobiles

Planes, Trains and Automobiles

I've just got back from two weeks in the UK, visiting family and friends and everything was going well until I got to Gatwick to come home. For once I'd managed to return the hire car on time and had a bit of time to spare, so I sauntered off in search of my ticket, found the US Airways desk and noticed a bit of a queue of obviously disgruntled passengers.

Up comes Ms. Chirpy Smiley PR person "Are you booked on flight 99 Sir?" (Airline speak for you WERE booked on flight 99 Sir)

"Yeees, why?"

"Well I'm very sorry Sir, it's been cancelled due to lightning strikes on 3 planes in Philadelphia and Charlotte, (as excuses go, it’s better than ‘the pilot was attacked by a rabid dog’)  we are trying our best to get people on other flights, I have some boarding passes here for another flight, what’s your name………….no, I’m sorry Sir I don’t seem to have one for you!……………..figures.

Bearing in mind I booked the flight 2 months before, I wondered what the prerequisites were for getting one of the very nice rescheduled boarding passes, oh well ce la vie I thought.

I got to the desk and was served by pouting Alan, who said all he could do for me was a flight from Heathrow leaving 2 hours from now, via Frankfurt, Alaska, Cancun and Lisbon. Or we can put you up in a hotel overnight and get you on the 11.50 tomorrow morning. So I asked him how that works, getting the rest of the stranded passengers on an already full flight? “Oh, don’t worry, you are definitely on it" he says and hands me my boarding pass.

Off to the hotel, 3 minutes walk away, with vouchers for lunch, dinner and breakfast, a few phone calls and I settle down to UK daytime TV. Fast forward to 5am the next morning, the phone rings, it’s the wife “They’ve cancelled your flight,“Well blow me down with a feather" I say. A quick shower and I’m off to the US airways desk. It’s 6am and I’m greeted by pouty Alan once again. “I’m so sorry Mr Gruff, but the flights only just arrived and the crew need 16 hours rest before they can fly (and the pilot was attacked by a rabid dog again) So it’s scheduled for 12.30am tomorrow morning. Back to the hotel and the hermetically sealed, non-smoking (bollocks to that) room, with more lunch and dinner vouchers and revised boarding pass in my hand. Another phone call from the wife during the day, it’s now scheduled to leave at 2am. (The crew needed more time in the bar I guess)

Wondering if Duty free will still be open at midnight, I find it open…Hooray

Only to find they have completely run out of my brand of Ciggies…..Boooo

Fast forward again to 2am, yippee we’ve boarded and we’re on the last flight out of Dodge.

I’m seated in 6B in cattle class, but can get the occasional peek at the privileged few in ‘executive’ with their extra legroom and wide chairs and champagne and croissants, not that I’m bitter about practicing being a pretzel for 8 hours you understand. I start chatting to the bloke next to me, who turns out to be a laugh, so we have a few drinks and dinner/breakfast is served, which looks strangely like a cheese roll, that’s because it is a cheese roll! Mind you, they threw in a mini Twix just in case I was feeling peckish after that culinary delight. Two bites into the cheese roll, the elderly man in 6F, sounding like a hippo gargling, projectile vomits over the seat in front of him. Me and 6A look at our rolls suspiciously and carry on eating. Up pops a stewardess, takes a look at the mess and runs off, next thing we hear is “If there are any doctors on the flight, could they make themselves known to the flight crew.  So two of them turn up, the lady looking like Carrie Weaver from ER, complete with walking stick and the man looking like a disheveled tennis coach. They start asking Mr PV questions and I hear words like ‘chest, pain, arms, and numb’ They nip off and have a conflab with the pilot, who presumably is already working out headings to large ice covered North Atlantic islands. They come back and there are now three of them, having picked up a surgeon and some stethoscopes on the way back from the cockpit. Dr Carrie seems excited about having him there, as she can safely and publicly pass the buck upwards. Meanwhile Mr PV has been at it again, but this time manages to do it in a duty free bag, luckily it was empty.

Around this time, the passenger in front of Mr PV stands up and I notice she has a neck brace on, bearing in mind the passenger next to her has a cast on her leg and has spent the flight with it resting on a rucksack, I glance at 6A and we both start the ‘someone farted in church’ laugh. The ER team are now murmuring words like “GI, Antacids and drip" So it looks like diverting to Iceland has been averted. I decide the excitement is too much and try to get some kip, only to be awoken by a loud bang, not a noise I like to hear on a plane. I wake up with a start, to find Dr Carrie scrabbling around on the floor retrieving her walking stick….phew. Back to sleep again….BANG, same thing again FFS. I look across at Mr PV who is now attached to a saline drip and wearing an England football shirt!

Breakfast is served, a reheated combination of soggy bacon, sausage, and rehydrated egg, Mr PV declines, which is probably just as well. We eventually land and the crew ask us to stay in our seats while the EMTs collect him. The first person on board as the doors open……..the Immigration officer, complete with rubber stamp! She stamps his passport, takes a quick look at him and leaves. It now seems that the airport EMTs are on another call, so they’ve had to call Philly to send someone. They let us off and I’m finally home. You couldn’t make this shit up really, just another chapter in lifes wonderful adventure.

PS Normally they fly Airbus 320s on this route, this time we had a Boeing 767-200 ER!

Wednesday, November 16, 2005 - The Twilight Zone

The Twilight Zone

I don't know if anyone has heard me ranting on about the driving in New Jersey, but it drives me nuts basically. Yesterday I had a really bizzarre moment. I went to the store in my truck and was leaving the parking lot, so I'm sitting there about 20 feet from a set of traffic lights waiting to turn into traffic, a woman toots her horn and gestures to me that she'll let me out, fair enough. So the lights turn green, 2 lanes straight ahead and a filter left.....nothing happens, no movement whatsoever. Now bare in mind this is New Jersey, where the rule of thumb is, you'd better be moving 3 nanoseconds before the lights change to green or you're going to get honked. So anyway I'm looking at the lights which are definitely green and nothings moving, no sound of a horn, no one gesturing or sticking their head out of the car window shouting "I say old chap, would you care to accelerate" So we have 3 lanes of traffic and green lights and nothings happening, now I'm starting to go into the twilight zone, I'm checking for small furry animals which may be crossing at the junction, no funeral cars in sight, no cops directing traffic........ nothing. It's like everyone had gone into a wierd catatonic trance, fallen asleep or on their cellphones. So everyone sits there just staring at the green lights and they eventually turn red again. I look at the other drivers, to see if they’re still alive and haven’t been zapped by Martian death rays and this isn't the beginning of the Day of the Triffids, but they’re all just looking straight ahead, emotionless. Anyway the lights turn to green again and everyone drives off, totally bizarre. Maybe it was Sun spots or something in the water that morning….anyway rant over.

Tuesday, October 4, 2005 - Baltimore Weekend

Baltimore Weekend

Well for the first time as a couple, the Widow and I spent the weekend in Baltimore (she goes quite often). She's down there on business, so not being one to give up the opportunity of a free hotel room and a weekend alone with her, drove down there and kept her company. It's quite a nice city, we went down to the Inner Harbour for a meal (average) and some sightseeing....'which was nice', apart from halfway through dinner, the comedians dressed as 19th century sailors on the USS Constitution decided to let off an 18 pounder cannon, which scared the crap out of everybody, set off a few car alarms and had jittery ex-US marine types diving for cover and shouting "Incoming". To be honest as far as sightseeing and touristy things go, we're terrible, we tried to find a seafood restaurant that served crab, as that's what Baltimore is famous for, but a wait of 1-2 hours put us off. We went to the National Aquarium but it was closed! Luckily most of the historic ships were still afloat, but unfortunately not accepting visitors. So we resigned ourselves to the fact that we'll never be tour guides and did a little shopping for overpriced Baltimore memorabilia. On a side note, I was almost bumped into by Don Vito (Bam Margeras uncle), who was as pissed as a fart and making "WAHAY" noises. Anyway enough of this nonsense, I feel a Blog about Crap tourists coming on.

Monday, September 19, 2005 - Autumn Leaves

Autumn Leaves

Ok let’s talk leaves and gardens, we live in a part of New Jersey with lots of trees, you can’t go anywhere without bumping into one. Tall trees, small trees and everything in between trees. We have lots in our garden (I refuse to call it a yard), basically it’s like living in the woods, with just a small area that actually gets sunlight all day, put aside to formal gardening. When we first moved in, the elderly couple we bought the house from hadn’t cleared the leaves for years, in some places they were a foot deep, so I invested in a mulcher/shredder the size of a small car, and over the year, gradually chomped my way through literally tons of vegetation and other foreign objects (we still haven’t found the cat!) Every Autumn, the trees give up the ghost and shed their foliage and acorns fall on and bounce into the house, which sounds like we're being shot at by a BB gun . So the battle begins again, every weekend, all you can hear is the sound of leaf blowers and mulchers and still the freaking leaves fall. Starting in October the township collects the leaves, with diggers racing up and down the road and scooping them into large trucks, to be taken away for mulch. Even in summer, when you think it’s all over, the sneaky bastard Holly trees start shedding. I used to think I’d love living with lots of trees, like an apprentice tree hugger, now I’m not so sure.

We almost have a small lawn, where even shade tolerant grass refuses to grow, so I may end up just spraying the earth green, to give it the desired lawn effect! And the only plants that seem to grow in the garden are Hosta, Ferns and English Ivy, although I am going to plant 100’s of English bluebells soon, in the vain hope that photoshynthesis is something they can do without. I started a vegetable patch last year and not one bloody thing grew because of lack of sunlight, well apart from the 6 very very new potatoes the size of marbles. I actually think the seed potatoes I planted were bigger than the ones I dug up, how does that work? Anyway enough of my ranting, I’m off to sweep leaves.

The local gang taunting me....

Wednesday, September 7, 2005 - Isle of Wight Weekend

Isle of Wight Weekend

Tuesday, September 6, 2005 - News just in from Reuters

Accident at Andrews AFB

President Bush was involved in an accident on the Centrifuge at Andrews AFB late yesterday, Defense sources have told Reuters. He was touring bases to see what impact the new Defense cutbacks would have on the day to day running of the Military. After having been invited to take a ride on the centrifuge, President Bush was strapped in and taken for a spin. Unfortunately, due to cutbacks in shift changeover procedures, he was left spinning for 2 hours. The Presidents Secret Service contingent were unable to stop the machine, as agent B was quoted as saying "Pushing big red buttons is the Presidents job, not mine"

               

Monday, September 5, 2005 - Chrysler Building

Chrysler Building

  

         

Sunday, September 4, 2005 - Limericks

Limericks

The boy stood on the burning deck

Playing with some crackers

One fell down his trouser leg

And blew off both his knackers

There was a young fellow named perkin
Who was always jerkin his gherkin
His father said perkin
Stop jerkin your gherkin
Your gherkins fer ferkin not jerkin

There once was a pirate (the story relates)
Who liked to go dancing on roller skates.
He fell on his cutlass
Which rendered him nutless
And virtually useless on dates.

There once was a man from Madras
Who's balls were constructed of brass
When jangled together
They played stormy weather
And lightening shot out of his ass!

The boy stood on the burning deck,
His body all a quiver.
He gave a cough, his leg flew off
And floated down the river.