Frodo, Keeper of the Ring

Sunday, January 13, 2013

Knock Knockin' On Heavens Door
Mood:

d'oh
Topic: "Quadrillions?"

"Yes Mr. Frodo, I see your hand raised. Should I address you as Mr. Secretary, or are you my nominee for some other position sure to raise the rankles of the Teabaggettes?"

"Frodo is entirely sufficient, Mr. President."

"Well I usually devote these sessions to questions from the White House Press Corps, but since you are not officially a member of the White House staff either, I suppose answering a question from you is proper."

"Thank you Sir, but I'm not sure you're going to like my question."

"Proceed Mr. Frodo."

"Sir, more than 34,000 citizens have signed a position suggesting that your administration design and construct a 'Death Star' as part of our national security system. As I understand the substance thereof, it would give us the opportunity to destroy any planet, anywhere, which may be an immediate or pending threat to the security of our small, blue planet."

"I am aware of the petition, and am also aware of the fact that the project would add thousands of jobs to our national economy. It would also cost more than a quadrillion dollars."

"Well, my question is, how much is a quadrillion, and if we don't know precisely, then how can we be sure we can't afford it?"

"Are you serious?"

"Sir, I have no idea as to the value of a quadrillion, and given that there is also a proposal to mint a single coin valued at a mere trillion dollars, I'm not sure the Treasury Department knows either."

"What, Mr. Frodo, do you think is the intrinsic value of a 'Death Star' to our national defense?"

"Mr. President, I am more concerned about the aliens in our midst as opposed to the potential threat from galaxies far, far away."

"Illegal aliens you mean?"

"No Sir, I mean those who use terms like secession and a 'return to 1776' in their arguments with those of us who grow weary of their juvenile dialogue."

So you're saying we should construct a 'Death Star' and use it against the NRA?"

"Actually Sir, I hadn't thought of that. I was suggesting that the State of Texas might be the point of initial concentration. Can you imagine how much better life would be in our country if there were no Texas, no Texans, and no Dallas Cowboys?"

"Funny it is, isn't it Mr. Frodo, that just this evening, the "Texans" lost to the "Patriots?"

"Amen, Sir. Now about that quadrillion dollars?"

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:39 PM EST

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Tuesday, January 8, 2013

Sometimes I Think It's a Sin
Mood:

vegas lucky
Topic: "Colosseum"

Russell Crowe portrayed Maximus, general turned gladiator, and Robert Green III, is RG3. Frodo sees similarities surpassing scores of generations and levels of recompense beyond definition. It is however, much as once said by Frodo's friend Delano, a matter of my slaves, versus yours.

Maximus entertained those who paid admission in Rome. RG3 does so in Washington.

Maximus performed in the grandest structure developed solely for pleasure. RG3 does so in a corporate-named stadium seating 85,000 people, most of whom are the guests of the wealthiest of the wealthy.

Maximus lived each contest as a survival prelude to the next encounter with men and monsters seeking a night of pleasure and another day. RG3 is showered with wealth, adulation and fame without ever drawing or losing blood.

Maximus died in the Colosseum, while RG3 did little more than twist the supports for the knee that defines his art-form. Although both contested fearsome opponents, neither contributes anything to the worlds in which they live, except, perhaps, for a generation of dreamers drawn by gold and greed. Not much of a legacy, says he who climbs Mount Doom, in order to destroy the ring.

The ring is still there, and it sits on the fifty-yard line.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 3:38 PM EST

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Thursday, December 20, 2012

I Used To Love Her, But It's All Over Now
Mood:

don't ask
Topic: "Mary Lee & Genie"(8)

Sam is all atwitter about the upcoming holiday season. After a short familial visit in Middle Earth through Christmas Day, the Hobbits turn toward the other hemisphere and beach music for New Years. It is, evidently, part of Sam's "bucket list," and an opportunity to introduce Dandy to a world not known before. Frodo would be happier if the southern objective were even moreso, but he yields to Sam's desire for something more "laid back and 50's ish".

Frodo amasses several reads for moments on the sand in the vicinity of an open bar. He envisions restful moments watching the tides altering their status while he rests from the pages before him. Likely it is that he will turn his eyes toward fins of piscine creatures escaping or pursuing each other in the winter surf. It is that point however, which has given him some level of anxiety based on news reports off the Atlantic coast.

Two Great White Sharks, tagged at Cape Cod and named Mary Lee and Genie, are being tracked off South Carolina and Georgia. At 16 feet in length, and weighing more than 3500 pounds, Mary Lee and the somewhat smaller Genie are looking for injured whales on which to feed.

Frodo hears a mental metallic percussion-like thumping attuned to the coastal panic of the 1970's when a movie star proclaimed that "We need a bigger boat." It prompts Frodo to ask Sam about the wisdom of the timing of their soiree to the land of Clarence Carter and the Tams. Sam assures Frodo that he has a better chance of being struck by lightning than of being attacked by a Great White Shark. Frodo is not comforted.

Who is it, thinks Frodo, that goes out to sea in order to "tag" a Great White Shark? Is it the same person who assures us that these creatures seek whales, not Hobbits? Frodo doesn't recall Nate Silbert offering odds on the likelihood of a Great White Shark seeking political office, either.

Perhaps the Hobbit allows his imagination to run amuck with greater ease these days. With all the talk of "fiscal cliffs" and "automatic weapons banned" he notes that the inmates still appear to be in charge of the jail. Maybe it is a good time to polish off a novel and a biography or two, then to place a well-tossed frisbee windward, toward the shore, ahead of a leaping Dandy.

Sharks suck. Come and get me, if you can!

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:20 AM EST

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Tuesday, December 18, 2012

If The Sky That We Look Upon Should Tumble And Fall
Mood:

crushed out
Topic: "Sandy Hook" (8)

Frodo is pretty sure the month was September, although the year remains fuzzy and complicated. He does not remember if anyone walked him to school on his first day in the first grade at Sandy Hook Elementary School. If anyone did, it was Bilbo.

The school did not have enough desks for each student, so Frodo shared a desk with another small Hobbit. Frodo does not remember his name.

One day, during recess, Frodo and another small Hobbit were playing as a team in hide-and-go-seek and outsmarted everyone else by entering the blackberry brambles just outside the playground. Just then the bell rang, signaling the end of recess, and calling Frodo's team back to class, immediately. Frodo can still see the teacher's disapproving glare when the two Hobbits finally returned to their seats, some 10 or 15 minutes late. Frodo does not remember her name, either.

He who was once Frodo's teammate in that blackberry bramble died not too long ago. Frodo remembered his name only after someone, a higher authority to be sure, reminded Frodo of the event, and the name long forgotten.

Frodo's family moved to the Shire in the middle of that first school year, and Frodo never returned to the Sandy Hook Elementary School, even to visit. Perhaps that is why Frodo remembers so little about the names and the faces that first shared in the adventures of a Hobbit fresh off the farm. Frodo never looked back, for he had new worlds to conquer, and too much promise to keep.

Frodo is reminded of the nameless ones by the events of the past few days at the Sandy Hook Elementary School. Despite the fact that it is not the same school, just a coincidence in nomenclature, and underscored by the fact that Frodo is not even sure in what state it stands, it makes for interesting thoughts and worthwhile prayers.

The Sandy Hook Elelmentary School that Frodo knew stands on a bluff overlooking the confluence of the Shenandoah and the Potomac. It could be in one of three states that border each other on the banks of the great rivers. Where it is, is not important. What it means, is something else.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:24 PM EST

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Sunday, December 16, 2012

Lord, I Believe It's Rainin' All Over The World
Mood:

blue
Topic: "Our Town" (8)

Whether the weather or the wither, whatever.

The day never dawned at all, and Frodo had an opportunity to put serious thought together. He found himself unable to separate from the grief that dominated, so his words were simply nothing new, or particularly profound. Perhaps it was merely the weather, but more likely it was something else.

Whatever.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 11:09 PM EST

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Friday, December 7, 2012

If You Could Read My Mind Love, What a Tale My Thoughts Could Tell
Mood:

surprised
Topic: "Oh the possibilities"(8)

"It's DeLightful, It's DeLovely. . ." so went the commercial familiar to those whose formative years were spent staring into the black-and-white. Color brought "DePlane, DePlane" to the observer. Now it seems proper to add the word "DeLighted" to the mix.

Frodo finds himself enjoying a scatological application to the Orc known as DeMint, who suddenly resigned after serving but two years in his second term as a United States Senator (R-SC). Frodo's initial thought was to merely express the hope that "DeDoor" not hit him in "DeBut" on his way to "DeTroit" or whatever location sought to which Frodo has no interest in ever visiting. In truth Frodo would really like to see the cretin "DePorted"(know anybody who's ever seen his birth certificate, do ya?).

Frodo was not surprised to hear Stephen Colbert declare his interest replacing Jim without "DeLay", after all, he would merely be following the political footsteps of Jesse Ventura, Arnold Schwarzenegger, Al Franken, and possibly precede those of Ashley Judd into "De Briar Patch."

Let us hope that whoever may be named to fill the vacancy by the Governor not be overly familiar with "De Appalachian Trail." Maybe the first Mrs. Sandford?

Wasn't her name "DeDe"?

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 9:11 PM EST

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Thursday, December 6, 2012

I'm Just a Lonely Boy, Lonely And Blue
Mood:

spacey
Topic: "Lunatic Cattle Call"(8)

The word "lunatic" is derived from the Latin word for "moon" and the ancient belief that an individual could be "moonstruck" by lunar movements. The relevancy of this little factoid is that the word has now been stricken from federal law, by act of Congress. This bipartisan action results from a concerted effort to remove language from the US Code that is outmoded or demeaning. So "lunatic" joins "retard," at least in its usage, and similar terminology.

Frodo's attention was caught by the almost universal support from the professional community for said action, and, in fact, by the vote in Congress. By a margin of 397 votes (398 to 1), the House of Representatives passed the legislation and directed it to the President for signature.

398 to 1 you say?

The answer to your question, dear reader, is exactly what you might expect. Representative Louis Gomert (R-TX), who represents the area around the town Frodo calls "Wacko," was the lone dissenter. The "reasoning" for his forthright position he declared was that that there is lunacy in the Nation's Capitol.

Frodo will not dispute the Congressman's assertion. Gomert's presence proves its own point.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:40 PM EST

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Wednesday, November 28, 2012

Love Is Like a Butterfly
Mood:

don't ask
Topic: "Simba"(8)

Fiona Apple is a performer who won the admiration of a Hobbit because she canceled her business arrangements in order to become the care provider for her friend, Janet. Janet is a 14 year-old pit bull, suffering from Addison's Disease. Don't let the tears well up inside however, since Frodo's purpose in his words this evening are because of Fiona Apple, not in spite of her.

Frodo today met Simba, who could well pass for the wire-haired one known as Asta, to those who would remember Nick & Nora, cast upon the big screen as "The Thin Man." Simba is, not unlike Janet, 14 years old, and her future is equally challenged. She is however, not quite so well served since she now resides in the confines of the "kill shelter" where Frodo volunteers. For whatever reason, those who shared life with Simba gave her up to others in order to handle the inevitable outcome. Frodo rarely speaks ill without a simple attempt to at least understand the hapless motivations of those who act so crudely. Today however, he watched as the little dog didn't bother to even evacuate, but to circle the cage, endlessly, looking for a familiar face to the rescue. Sure she was that the family motor car would soon arrive, even without a bugle identifying the Seventh Cavalry.

For all the good done by one person like Fiona Apple, Frodo recognizes how little he shares with those who would surrender a family member, and not look back.

Frodo hopes that the mindless cretins, sure he is at what they must be, share not in the Power Ball riches at hand, but that the person, or Hobbit, who does win, does so to rescue and care for a little dog, named Simba.

If you, dear reader, know of someone so inclined. . . If not, a simple prayer will do.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:13 PM EST

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Thursday, November 15, 2012

Sky Rockets In Flight, Afternoon Delight
Mood:

smelly
Topic: "Lief, Leaf, or Loaf"(8)

Whether 'tis nobler in the mind to contemplate falling leaves, to rake them into adjustable launching pads, or to merely acknowledge their existence is what plagues Frodo this afternoon. As one might expect, it is cool and dreary in the Shire, and considerable levels of clothing require association with a strong backswing in order to maintain one's presence out of doors. Frodo is however sick of television, and of no mood to read books while Newest Friend naps impatiently in the chair next.

Leaves, it seems, first appear as a single strand of maple floating and twisting not unlike any diver at an Olympic event in warmer climes. The pace quickens in the weeks that follow as first the dogwoods, then fruit trees denude themselves shamelessly. Suddenly the chestnuts, long since stripped of their fruit, carpet bomb the Shire much in the manner of those who once spread another orange agent on the small blue planet. At this point, activity becomes critical lest the Hobbit alienate every neigbor within a fortnights barefoot travel. Even after that effort is concluded the residue appears, perhaps in return from the irritated neighbor. We are at such a point, and Frodo knows that an uncomfortable effort out of doors will only yield another requirement a few days hence.

Sam is gone for the afternoon, and a nap would seem the wisest course of action. Perhaps Frodo will look back several hours from now and wish that he had taken the path least travelled by. It would certainly be different. He decides to wake the Dandy and tie him to the source of the greatest fall, allowing him to look over the Hobbit and to protect him while he works. It is, after all, his job, and soon to be merely a memory on some other day even less inviting.

Heigh ho.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 12:47 PM EST

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Tuesday, November 13, 2012

Just Like a Paper-Back Novel
Mood:

spacey
Topic: "How Now Broun Cow"(8)

Reynolds Plantation was designed not unlike the Del Webb monstrosities of Arizona; only those with lots of money need apply. The area in Eastern Georgia is, as one might expect, full of lakes, golf courses, and people who only vote for low taxes. The result being that the schools are the worst imaginable, and the inmates (sorry, Freudian slip) rarely experience either matriculation or parole. The official representative of the people, Congressman Paul Broun (R-GA) is proud of his "record" and sees little need to change things since all his "chillun" go to church on Sunday.

Speaking of church, Congressman Broun, who is a licensed physician (and if that doesn't say a mouthful about the status of healthcare in America?) was recently videotaped speaking to religious nuts in his own district stating that he had forsaken all of his medical training since Jesus and the Bible produced everything that medical science could provide. Frodo notes that said comments were made in a church in "his" district, and that references thereto in official public records are not otherwise available. Congressman Broun it seems is not willing to speak to the greater public in this regard.

Congressman Broun first came to Frodo's attention when he brought his "trophies" with him to Washington, and had each head, be it that of a deer, a mountain goat, a polar bear, a grey wolf, a grizzly bear, a lion, and you certainly get the message ad infinitum, all placed on the walls of "his" office on Capitol Hill. Death, seemingly, is something that this firebrand opponent of "Obamacare" seems to accept, at any cost to the taxpayers who ingloriously support his New Testament utterances and his rejection of science.

Hope, and change, are words that are sometimes merely words. Frodo notes that there were 4,000 votes cast in the congressional district of Representative Broun, who ran unopposed, for Charles Darwin (of HMS Beagle), as a write-in.

Perhaps there is hope after all, and just maybe it resides in the hearts and minds of people in Greene County, Georgia, who don't mind telling one fat, old man that he is no spokesman for his Lord and Savior, or for anyone with an IQ score above that of their birth weight.

Posted by loveysdaddyga at 8:17 PM EST

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