Tag: writing
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Portrait of a Man
“Who am I, Gamling?” King Théoden asks of his lieutenant in a calm-before-the-storm moment of hopelessness and self-doubt. I like to consider my identity as that of a Renaissance Man of the People. This may be considered a compound epithet merging, of course, the phrases Renaissance Man and Man of the People. A Renaissance Man…
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I am a puzzle
A maelstrom of identities To be flipped and sorted and examined Five hundred, a thousand, and more hats to wear In each moment Some too proud Others too timid Few just right But each eventually finds its place Only to be determined Through trial and good intent The true work begins As attention finally shifts…
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Fever Dreams & Delusions of Grandeur – Part 2
“Dark have been my dreams of late,” King Theoden says, triumphing against depression as Gandalf literally shows him the light, “but I feel as one new-awakened.” The more I read and live, the more I realize that the meaning of life is art. Centering art as the meaning of life entails the following prescriptions: 1)…
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Art not Power
J.R.R. Tolkien was a prolific letter writer, so much so that there is an entire tome compiling his correspondence. In Letter 131, Tolkien writes that “[Elvish] ‘magic’ is Art… and its object is Art not Power, sub-creation not domination.” Distilling this into a theme of Art versus Power, this magic of Tolkien had already meant…
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Free will v. Determinism
I do not believe in fate/destiny. I’ve no background in philosophy (so I’ll happy concede that I have no idea what I’m talking about), but I do not believe in it simply because all things occur within the law of probability. For example, if event X only has a 1% chance of occurring but still…
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The Magic of the Song of Durin
You, the first-time reader of The Lord of the Rings, experience the events of the story exactly as some of its more unknowing characters do; that is, you have no idea what’s going on: there’s all this talk about destroying the One Ring, which you’ve come to understand is essentially a symbol of pure evil,…
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Your wish becomes somebody’s command
A dull yellow schoolbus rumbles to a halt and out comes a sole student – Mitchell Green. Without looking back, Mitchell begins his short walk home – no more than a mile. He feels the bus rumble away behind him, the vibrations pulsing through the road up through his sneakers and body. A forward swing…
The AM Intrigue 