"You're sad, you are!"

[alatar]

Originally Posted by Bêthberry

Wait a minute! Are you comparing us to those folks at Graceland? Where do they fall in Cornell's two possibilities of interpretation, the mad consumers or the playful hunger artists?

There is a spectrum, ranging from almost not interested to needing X more rabidly than oxygen, and we all are on it somewhere.

I had previously thought that those who Await The Return of The King are like the first kind of fans which Cornell described--"mad consumers"--but now I see that those who believe that Elvis Has Just Left The Building are more like the second kind of fan. Having never visited Graceland, I don't know which kind al is referring us to. And would there be two kinds of genes, or would one be a mutation of the other gene?

Sight unseen, I would bet that you are nothing like the fans of the King. I can only describe it as the same adoration/fanaticism that would be bestowed upon a holy person.

I went to Graceland, as might be expected, to annoy a coworker who could not stand the King or the adoration that this singer somehow evoked. Knowing that I went to Graceland just irked this person to no end. So I went, intent on playing the part of a true believer, preparing my sarcasm for others who were going under less pretenses.

In the Jungle Room, I made the statement that carpeting the walls was 'true fashion genius,' meaning, of course the exact opposite (though with the plastic jungle furniture, I guess that it did sort of work). Much to my amazement, others in the tour group agreed with my observation, though they thought it true.

The hair on my head stood up and turned white, much like my avatar.

My faked tears at the gravesite were for both the camera and to 'fit in,' as I feared for my life. People in the group were wailing at the grave as if it were a parent or child, fresh under the turves. I'm guessing that many of these people never met the King in person, and they may *at best* have attended a concert. People left notes, not only at the grave, but in any imperfection in the stone wall that surrounds the compound. Every square inch, on the wall, on the sidewalk, on the public telephone, had some message scrawled, such as, "I'll miss you, Blue Eyes."

So, to answer your question, the people I've met here may be geeked out about Tolkien, but I've never felt in fear of my life for disagreeing with dogma.