[Michael Murry]

For some reason, my computer connection to the Barrow Downs failed several months ago and has only now (in early May, 2015) magically resurrected itself. Since I saw this dreadful film at the theater back in December of 2014, I have forgotten most of what I disliked about it, which leaves me with hardly anything left to say, except that I liked the fact that it eventually ended. Still, I had begun several years ago to do a series of poems lampooning the Elf-Chick / Young Elf Lord fan-fiction romance thing but I had to wait for the third film in order to complete the cycle. Of course, along the way, the name of the elf-chick character changed, as did the identity of the actress chosen to portray her. Then, too, the immortal Young Elf Lord character had to step aside and watch the elf-chick fall for a doomed dwarf instead – from mediocre ménage à deux to moronic ménage à trois, so to speak.

Anyway, now that I have a restored connection to the Barrow Downs discussion forum, I can try to wrap up this guerrilla lampooning in verse, especially since it had no effect on the producers and director of such trash. To refresh my memory, I read through the many comments by other posters and settled on the following two, which seemed appropriate for my purposes:

“Tauriel and Kili's romance was made very shoddily and unrealistically, and the whole Hey I just met you and this is crazy drama seems like something that could only happen to, or be taken seriously by, indiscriminate teenagers. Then again they seem to be the target audience.” – Aganzir

and

“Meanwhile, over at ToRn, they are high-fiving each other joyously with happy Hobbit erections, fluffed, as it were, with Jacksonian enthusiasm.“ – Morthoron

So with the fan-boy erections and the indiscriminate teenage mall-maiden demographic in mind, I remembered from the second film of this interminable trilogy how the dwarf Kili had challenged the Elf-Chick Security Guard to look in his trousers where she might find "something." To which she glibly retorted, "or nothing." So, as I sat through the third film, I waited to find out whether Itaril/Tauriel would ever look in the dwarf Kili's trousers. If so, I wondered, would she find anything, something, or nothing there? In other words, did the smutty innuendo in the previous film actually have a purpose in setting up the real cause of the Elf-Chick Security Guard's "regret" and "pain" at the dwarf Kili's unconsummated passing? I mean, would she feel terribly bad that she had missed out on her one "big" chance or would she feel cheap and stupid for imagining satisfaction from anything that insignificant? I mean, even a realy stupid plot premise ought to have some logical kind of development to conclusion.

But no such luck. The film answered none of these pressing questions, and -- to add insult to injury -- once he no longer had the dwarf for romantic competition -- the Young Elf Lord simply dumped the lower-class Elf Chick and went off to look for "a ranger named 'Strider'" at the behest of his father, the Evish King Thranduil. Strider, of course, as we know from Tolkien's Appendices, had barely reached the age of ten at that time (2941) and would not aquire the nickname "Strider" from the local inhabitants at Bree for another seventy-seven years (3018). Then, too, as we know from Tolkien's "Council of Elrond" in the Fellowship of the Ring, Legolas only shows up as a messenger from his father to report the fact of Gollum's escape from the Elves' custody. So much for Peter Jackson's ham-handed attempt to link The Hobbit to The Lord of the Rings.

With the above in mind, then, I'll try to wrap up the Elf Chick Security Guard Cycle with:

Unrequited Elf/Dwarf Libido

How did this interspecies film romance
Have anything amounting to a chance
If he, the dwarf, had nothing in his shorts
And she, the elf, knew only glib retorts?

We know that elves and men can mate, it's true,
Because Professor Tolkien said they do.
But how do elves and dwarves refute the rule
That horses crossed with donkeys make a mule?

Or does this tacky, tawdry, tame affair
Appeal (with not a hint of savoir faire)
To boys in bed, both hands beneath the sheets,
And girls who've yet to grow a pair of teats?

And what of that young elf lord -- You-Know-Him --
Whose face emotes expressions fell and grim
Who left the elf-chick in his dad's employ
To go in search of one ten-year-old boy.

Michael Murry, "The Misfortune Teller," copyright 2015