A long, long post for a long, long trailer
 

This most recent selection is taken from older pieces found on loose leaves interspersed with the narrative of the Downfall of the Lord of the Rings. Its authorship is pseudonymous--apparently a surviving family member of one of the principals in the story. It is by all accounts an apocryphal text which may be included here with the other apocryphal texts unless there is a revolt among the literati concerning canonicity.

Clearly this alternate text--indeed, all of them, from various hands--suggests that the accepted narrative may tell a limited story about the traditions of Man. Certainly there is a greater range of reference and idea in the unauthorised texts. The idea of simultaneity of serial time when viewed from an overarching memory is here explored far more fully than the primary texts themselves allow.

Whether this was composed prior to or after Frodo's visit to the House of Bombadil with the other hobbits cannot now be determined, particularly in view of this theory of time. The textual evidence does not allow for it. There is a strong preference among many learned readers to date Frodo's visit before the Wouldship's visit, but holographic tests of dating have not yet been done to verify this reading preference.

The text appears to be a conflation of two prior texts which we may call T and LB. The T text is widely enough known that I do not need to refer to it here. However, the LB text is less widely known and may in fact for many be represented solely by the recently discovered Digital Scribe Scrolls found here.

The text is clearly incomplete. A dinner with some anticipated problems is clearly suggested as well as exploration of the long defeat in subsequent ages referred to in the canonical T texts. It is possible the author anticipates a foray into Seventh Age Sarehole, now a posh neighbourhood of Birmingham interrupted rather barbarously by one of the monstrous M highways.

It is also possible that the author contemplated the Wouldship's journey along M40 to the actual barrow of T himself, in order to verify an alternate text by a scribe known only as The Squatter of Amon Rûdh, found recently in a digital barrow frequented by adoring dead fans of T.

Whether these possibilities were explored remains to be seen. Certainly scholars are still exploring the digital remains of the LB texts and we can look forward to analysing their place in the entire panoply of apocryphal texts. It is known, for instance, that one further text exists which recounts how the Woodship would ship wood back to Yê Auldë Forestë but that text is still undergoing extensive archeological treatment to ensure that it does not disintegrate when it is transcribed onto the new digital scrolls here. For the time being we must hope that further excavations will bring to light more adventures of the Woodenship in the Seventh Age.

RIP Lucy and Desi and, of course, JR himself also.

*Mithadan chuckles appreciatively at Bethberry's post, then frowns. He consults his parents' birth certificates...hmmmm....("Esta hija nací en Havana, Cuba...", "Esto hijo nací en Havana, Cuba..."). Mithadan returns to his dressing room to puff himself up with righteous indignation.

*Mithadan returns, fully puffed...

"It ees ang outrage! Scandalooz! Mine family heritaj, eet has beeng slandered! I demand apoloshees ang reparaciones, immediatamente! It ees discriminacion angainst los Cubanos! Usang foul charicia...charimpato...cartoon-like images of peepolz of myng nachonal heritaje ees horrible! Ang foorthermare..."

*Kuruharan and BW emerge from their dressingrooms and drag Mithadang away. BW pulls out a Spanish-English dictionary, circles the entry for "parody" and stuffs the book into Mithadang's mouse...

You got some splainin' to do
 

Good Afternoon, Ladies and Gentlemen,

We at Magical Improbabilites Inc. would like to take a moment to lay aside all questions of time travel, mechanical mishmashery, fashion faux pas, and ethnic parody, to address a matter which is, no doubt, far more important.

We are concerned and confounded at this slanderous and unfounded insinuation that our dear Pimpiowyn is, dare we say, fat! While she does indulge in various fattening comestibles, her nature as a Mary Sue Sidekick and Shieldmaiden In Training grants her complete amnesty from all unpleasant and/or plump side effects. Either that, or she just has a really, really, really high metabolism. A picture of a very fat hobbit stashed somewhere in her attic is also a possibility.

We thank you for your time,
Pipsissewa Took*, Founder and CEO of Magical Improbabilities Inc.


* Note: Yes, gentle readers, some of you may recognize the name of Pimpi's dead mother. Which makes it all the more improbable, does it not?

*SHRIEK* Look who's back!!!!
 

Oh, wow! I have a dressing room?!! Where has it been hiding all this time? No more changing out in the bushes for me!!

As some of you may have noticed, I finally escaped from the insane asylum...uh, I mean the university! I can pick up my poor neglected characters again.

I also want to extend congratulations because the sing-off was just unspeakably hilarious. :D

Thank you, Bêthberry, for wonderful posts, both on the RPG and here on the discussion thread! They had me chuckling my way through reading this morning. 'Gucyberry' brings two highly varying images to my mind - 'gooseberry' and 'Gucciberry'! ;) A Gucci-toting goose, perhaps?

At any rate, the Itship is travelling in style - no Fatty Lumpkin for us, no sirree! More horsepower and chrome...

We have occasionally gotten side-tracked, but this is the first time we're time-tracked! No complaints about the length of your post from me - every word was a pleasure to read. Welcome back to the continuing adventures of the Entish Bow and Co.!

Further posts are up for grabs - make whatever you like of this situation, folks. Either Bb or I will eventually bring it to a close.

Good to see you Bêthberry. :)

An excellent post, if I may say so, although I must also thank you for providing a link to details of the film in question, as one who has not had the benefit of seeing it. The M40, eh? A route that I am, unfortunately, only too familiar with. Next time that I'm on it, I'll look out for a big long yellow trailer stuck (as most of the traffic always seems to be) in the fast lane. :D

One point of detail - Mogul's symbol is the Red Flaring Nostril, rather than the Eye.


Whereas Soregum sports a rather fetching pot-belly (he's such a catch ;) ). No doubt the stairs were bending under his weight, rather than Pimpi's.

Hurried
 

I will make those changes as soon as possible. Naughty me for reading over the game too swiftly.

I shall be away for a week or perhaps two, but Estelyn will return the Itship to the Third Age if you all cannot wait that long.

The movie is a very old bit of American film lore, to be sure, older than yours truly. I saw it as a child during Saturday afternoon matinees for kids at the local cinema, along with cartoons, a Batman and Robin serial, and the Three Stoges. I also recall Jerry Lewis' Cinderfella, but that seemed less apropo.

sorry for being abrupt. I must run.

Welcome back O Mighty Dwarf (and dragon)!

FYI, everyone, I will be on vacation from 6/14-6/21 and will have no internet access.

And just where are we headed in this Mercury Monterey?
 

I have a couple of ideas for a Gateskeeper post (the mind boggles at what a wizard could contrive when accompanied by modern technology) but when last we left out Intrepid-Band-Ship, they were pulling onto a highway to who-knows-where. Is this road trip heading somewhere in particular, or are we just joyriding? I don't want to disrupt any plans which might be in the works.

I call dibs on first mention of the fact that this road-train moves without horses, oxen, or any-other-means-explicable-to-Muddled-Mirthlings.

No particular goal, Thena - when we leave this time bubble and get back to ME, we'll be heading for the Shire/Mire, but for now, anything goes! Go ahead and take advantage of the situation; I'll wait a few days to see what loose ends need tying up before Bêthberry hopefully returns to finish this sequence.

Two new posts since my last acknowledgement - thanks, Saucy for your great contribution! "turbo-charged Wargs, Porsha and Furrari" - ?! :D The Loyer song is hilarious! Diamond, it's good to have you active again - we've missed your posts! You seem to have the longest attention span of all of us writers - who'd have remembered Harvey the rabbit?!

Whatever do you mean? I forgot all about the poor thing! ;) SPM's catch up post for Gravlox reminded me. Personally, I suspect Chrysi of foul play somewhere between the dungeon and the sing off. :p

Gasp
 

GASP!!!

He would never do anything like that!!!!

Well, actually, yes he would. And mentioning Gravlox, he and Chrysophylax probably have in interesting reunion looming at some point.

Oh, that's right....
 

Ew. I'd forgotten all about Chrysi having eaten Gravlox's corpse. That Mantoes sure does work wonders, doesn't he?

Chrysi is very handy for dispatching with forgotten characters -- just ask Norni. ;)

Burp
 

Chrysophylax: Ask who? *URP* Pardon... ;)

A very palpable plot?
 

Sorry for the protracted absence. I've just finished catching up with the plot and was horrified to see that one appears to have developed. Unless there are any objections, I think I may try to work out some back story for the mysterious hermit alluded to by Bethberry. You have until I can write a post to submit demurrals in triplicate to the Amon Rûdh Customer Relations Department, for 'immediate fast-track processing' *

* 'Immediate', 'fast-track' and 'processing' are used figuratively, and are in no way intended to suggest any form of response, rapid or otherwise.

Forgive me if I forgot anybody. I'm sure anyone I unintentionally slighted will find ample means of informing me of my ooopsie.

Are we about to have an unexpectedly lofty visitor from the recent past and (at the same time) very distant future, who wrote some familiar tomes? Is he going to chastise us severely for our rascally ways?

Ai! The Travest-o-Meter(TM) is rotating at a dangerous rate! Thanks for great posts, Squatter and Kuruharan!! Who's inspired next?

What's the use of having talking animals if they aren't allowed to speak their minds occasionally?! Two new posts are up - thanks to Diamond and Falafel for continuing the saga!

:smokin:

Good luck, Mith!

Thanks, Diamond, for yet another great post, exploring a side of Middle-earth usually noted only by Radagast...

Anyone wanting to take advantage of the opportunity to explore the possibilities of time travel should hurry up - I will be posting early next week to finish the sidetrack off, and Bb will end the escapade approximately mid-week.

Oh my Squatter, a most clever interjection of the Travestometer, and by Squirrels no less!

An astounding post. More I cannot say as the settling dust chokes my throat. Back soon ...

The Explosive Invention of Overdale and Tenant
 

Thanks, Bêthberry.

I thought I'd include the illustrious academics, Doctors Overdale and Tenant because I know that a lot of you are already familiar with their ground-breaking experiments on the Travest-o-Meter®. The paper that these two distinguished pioneers of rotary travestorial measurement eventually published in New Scientist does describe one occasion on which a group of individuals, by their mere speech patterns and physical presence, destroyed one of the early prototypes. Obviously such an event could not have occurred with one of the production models, which feature an emergency shut-down mechanism to be used in the unstable situations that can occur on the frontiers of literary criticism.

Tenant and Overdale were unfortunate in that their invention was revealed to the scientific community only days after a new calculation of Pi, which eclipsed the Travest-o-Meter and lost them their Nobel Prize. However, they managed to console themselves by becoming two of the richest scientists in the history of the world through the mass production of their discovery. Currently they act as remote consultants on the use of Travest-o-Metrics from a five-star hotel in Barbados.

Intra-hotel Memorandum
 

TO: Doctor Squatter, Esq., Bungalow Three, Surfside, Barbados

FROM: Doctor Underhill (Field Marshall, ret.), Bungalow Seven, Surfside, Barbados

RE: Another success


My Dear Squatter,

Congratulations on your latest achievement in the translation of Deeproot's magnum opus. I have received a note from an independent research team in Bern. Their analysis of the events of the past thirty odd hours indicates that you have successfully conflated fiction, satire, mediated reality, and actual reality into so tangled a self-referential web that it will take scholars and fanboys decades of intensive research, discussion, and debate to unravel its strands.

We are one step closer to our dream of a utopian future powered solely by Travest-o-technology©.

I'm certain you will also be interested in the attached video-still forwarded to me by the boys in our lab at Travest-o-Corp-Wolvercote. It shows our advanced industrial prototype safely* venting overload from a spike event that occurred yesterday, roughly between 12:10:00 and 12:40:00 GMT.

I shall be by the hot-tub if you wish to join me in celebration. Just follow the sound of popping champagne corks and the smell of Hawaiin Tropic suntan oil.

Yours &tc.,

Dr. Underhill

ATTACHMENT:

http://forum.barrowdowns.com/images/...er_venting.jpg


*In any case it would have been safe if some bumbling idiots had not failed to paint a "DO NOT WALK" warning on the floor behind the exhaust port as is plainly indicated in our design schematic. Apparently HR is quietly seeking a new junior lab technician for the Wolvercote facility as of this morning. I'll say no more in respect of a legal action which I am informed may be impending.

Dear Sirs,

I would like to take this opportunity to complain of the serious health damage inflicted upon me by the reading of your report. I do not know in which field of learning your doctorate was aquired, but I could have used a medical doctor to stich up my sides after your account had me in stitches. It is reported that a healer will arrive soon; perhaps her ministrations will soothe my ailment.

Respectfully,
Lady Estelyn, Chief Loremistress of Minas Tirith

*Grrralph enters a crypt-like cavern, waving away the dust that hovers in the air before him. Cobwebs hang from the stone ceiling and rubble and powdered stone cover the uneven floor. Needs a sweeping, he muses before continuing on towards the dressing room doors which line the far wall. He knocks at first one, then another and still another. No answer.

"Hallloooo!" he cries. But the only response is a sudden flurry of bat wings. A portal opens to his left and a ghostly hand emerges, beckoning to him with a crooked finger. "We have been waiting for you," intones an unearthly voice. "Come.... Elvenhome awaits..."

He staggers back and begins pounding again upon the dressing room doors. Behind him, Mantoes emerges from the glowing portal and moves towards him followed by an officious looking Elf carrying a clipboard. "Tsk, tsk," clucks the Elf. "Well overdue. Shall we take him Boss?"

Mantoes raises his arm and reaches towards Grrralph. He opens his mouth to speak even as the wraith rattles the doorknob of another dressing room. What will Mantoes say...?

Kuruharan sticks his head out of his (newly discovered) dressing room where he had been quietly moldering.

“huh…wha…” he said in one of his more articulate utterances of recent memory. Then he caught sight of Mantoes. He suddenly sprang into action.

“Greetings Muddled-mirth’s answer to the Grim Reaper! I see that by some oversight you are lacking in the appropriate equipment for a being in your occupation. If you’ll just step in here I’ll show you my line of scythes, and if that does not interest you, I have a wondrous selection of rakes to peruse.”

“But…I…” stammered Mantoes as Kuruharan shoved him into the dressing room. As soon as he was through the door, Kuruharan slammed it shut on him. Then he went over to speak to Grralph.

“Salutations on your return. I have been waiting eagerly to see if we manage to escape from the Seventh Age in one piece, or with an augmentation of characters. Alas, there seems to be a bit of a contract dispute over reasonable compensation. It appears that the RPG has garnered more money at the box office than originally anticipated and certain members are demanding a larger cut. I naturally have no idea who!” *wink*wink*

“By the way, I notice that Daffy resurrectum est!”

Kuruharan suddenly pulls out a bag.

“I’m sure I have some souvenirs from where ever it was you went to sell you…”

My post will be up by tomorrow, returning the Itship to the Third Age.

Alas, I shall be away from Friday to Monday, so I can't post after Bb gets us back. Who volunteers to take the Itship into the Shire - oops, I mean 'Mire'?

Hwæt we REBingas!
 

The mis--or missing--adventures of the Tweeship in the Seventh Age raise serious questions about the authorship of Twentieth Century manuscripts by the scribe T. It appears that a manuscript by several hands did once exist which recounted a science fiction time travel journey into alternate times despite T's misgivings about such a genre. Perhaps the manuscript changed his mind about such matters.

This apocryphal text recounts a shocking evidence of the desecration of barrows in times more barbarous than our own. However, it includes other more shocking acts of demolition. Character assassination is indulged in freely. Heretical recontextualising of mythological deities abounds. Automobiles exert the utmost acts of defilement, of air, of roadways, of bodies.

But most shockingly, this REB text leads to the conjecture that certain of T's texts, which remain in unpublished manuscripts, might actually have been inspired by these rough, crude, primitive precursor texts of the wanton Third or Fourth Age. The Marquette University manuscript known as The Bovardium Fragments owes a striking resemblance to these documents of the Reunification of the Entish Bow. Certainly there T goes much farther in the final destruction of Oxford than anything the REB writers dared to imagine, although his hand no doubt is far lighter, nay, even flippant, than theirs. However, we must not conjecture too strongly about the sub-creational tendencies of the REB documents. Certainly they maintain a reasonable correspondence with historical sites of Oxford. The Trailer Trash art installation by itself remains the single most profound example of how art imitates life. Compare it with the Headington Shark to determine for yourself the much richer context of signifiers in the REB documents than in the Council Regulation Minutes.

One final note. The REB documents continue to develop the harmonies and musical themes of popular music and rock and roll, but this latest document extends the reach by suggesting just wherein Emu's great theme stands in relation to these later themes. The references are too numerous to mention here but no doubt they will give scholars in ages to come a most profitable expenditure of time and research skills in the recovery of source materials.

~ ~ ~

Humblest apologies to Pimpi for casting such vile aspersions on her size and to SpM for confusing those two very different facial features, the Eye and the Nostril. I overlooked the later by a hair. All errors will be corrected tomorrow.

To Mithadan, for your very funny remonstrances about Latino stereotypes, many thanks. It kept me chucking for many a day.

Dear REBers, many thanks for your indulgence about my delay in setting up the final act of this cameo and for allowing me the fun of joining briefly in the mayhem. I should probably confess here that I think On Fairy Stories is one of Tolkien's most brilliant works.

And now, on to Mirth from The Mire... Just remember to keep it clean, eh? ;)

Bethberry

Mytho-Bow-ia
 

We RPG and libel it just so,
(for parody it is, the Entish Bow);
we write a post and read with smiling face
one of the many major wastes of space:
a sword’s a sword, some metal in a sheath
compelled to speak or to condemn to death.
Amid the serious, canon, lofty tales,
here, influence of moderators pales.

At bidding of a Plot, which we do bend
(and must), we only dimly apprehend;
the Itship marches on, as Game unrolls
from dark beginnings to uncertain goals;
and as on screen ‘tis written without clue,
with letters green on background black in hue,
an endless multitude of posts appear,
some grim, some frail, some wonderful, some queer.

The REB is not compound of lies,
but draws some humour from the only Wise,
and still recalls him. Though now long enstranged,
he turneth in his grave, and every change
the faithful Travestometer doth see;
we hold in honour creativity
and splinter from the true LotR
our many hues with no intent to mar
the memory of him who’s now decayed.
We write still by the model which he made.


A very special thanks to Bêthberry for a wonderfully funny post, written despite difficult circumstances! It was worth waiting for, Bb. Thanks too for the great explanatory post here!

Mith, thanks to you for continuing immediately - I hope that will be an inspiration for all to post as soon as possible! As I posted above, I won't be able to write for Merisu until I'm back next week. Whoever writes, have fun! I look forward to reading.

(edit: Whoa, try to keep up with Mith - while I was writing here, he concocted another great post!)

On the Road Again
 

Vogonwë is quite jealous of that poem, Esty. :D

Now that we are in the Mire, I have a question -- what kind of state is the Mire in? Are we talking pastoral pre-post-War-of-the-Thing Mire or under-the-dominian-of-Sauerkraut Mire? I have some ideas but am not sure what kind of setting I should use.

Also, something tells me that Vogie's going to have to remember those karate moves from the Bacon Binge....

Reb Ii
 

Perhaps we should speak to Thenamir, but I seem to recall a small army of brainwashed Beerlanders marching our way, led by Sauerkraut. If I were to hazard a guess, I'd say that Sauerkraut has infected the Mire-folk's favorite food with Bad Cow Disease or some such thing. Either way, the Itship's in for more havoc.

As for Gravlox, he's reformed, remember? Vogie has nothing at all to worry about. *snicker*

REB hits Ridiculous Speed
 

Are you suggesting, Mith, that what's gone before in this story should have anything to do with what is to come?

Fantastic posts, everyone. I'm not sure I can follow that, but I'll try.

OK, I'm back from my extended weekend, and there's nothing here to catch up on! I'd like us to get the story moving again. Diamond, when will your save be filled? All who haven't posted recently, please think about developments either in the Shire/Mire or at the Havens, our next stop. The latter should be coordinated with me, since I have plans for the ship trip and its preparation.

Mea culpa
 

Sorry -- I meant to get my save in sooner, but then the 4th of July weekend came up. I mean, given the choice between movies and rock concerts and alligators on a stick, who can really blame me, right? Right? Um... anyone? Lush back me up here....

Within the day or two I shall get my act together and the Itship will as per usual band together to destroy a reigon....

Whoop dee do da
 

My save is up. I apologize for the delay, and for the slap-dash nature of the post, but we are on our way again, such as it is.

A great post, Diamond! You've gotten us off to a good start. I will post next (save will be filled within less than a day, I hope), getting the Shipshape to an inn. After that, anyone is welcome to post, but should plan to do so soon, if possible. Squatter will finish off the adventures in the Mire.

My save is filled in - go ahead, Saucy!

Note to all: Saucy may not be able to fill his save soon, so anyone who wants to take the story on from here is welcome to do so. He will move his save if necessary.