Ethan Gilsdorf is the celebrated geek author of the very awesome book, Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks. It’s the sort of book that, if you’re a lifelong geek like me, you can’t put down. The book chronicles Ethan’s life as a young geek, his escape from his roots, and then his return. From Tolkien to tabletop roleplaying, from Boston to New Zealand, the book is a pitch-perfect account of one geek’s journey in a very, very wide world.
I met Ethan earlier this year at PAX:East, where we sat on a panel together. At that point, his book was just in hardcover: but lo! It has landed in paperback!
So, in celebration this great book going paperback, I asked Ethan to do an interview for us here at GeekMom. And since he’s done quite a few interviews, I didn’t want it to be the same dull questions as usual. So we delved a little deeper into the depths of geekdom to tease out some unusual answers.
Hark! There is more, indeed.
In addition to the interview, Ethan is also giving away 5 signed copies of his book Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks to our readers.
How do you win this coveted book, you ask? Ethan, among other things, is also a poet. So I thought it’d be cool if you could give us a verse or two. Be it a free verse, a limerick, a sonnet, a haiku, or a villanelle, on the geeky subject of your choosing (think “An Ode to Harry Potter” or the “Ballad of Bilbo”). Just put your entries in the comments below and we’ll choose the best five entries by Friday!
Good luck, and geek on!
Ethan Gilsdorf Answers GeekMom’s Curious Questions
GeekMom: You’re playing D&D. Your first character choice?
Ethan Gilsdorf: First, a caveat: I come from the dark ages of AD&D, back when we covered our holy texts (the Monster Manual, et al) with brown shopping bag paper and we didn’t have funky classes like Avenger, Invoker, or College Professor, or races like Minotaur, Shardmind, or SpongeBob. No siree! We walked to wizard school through 3 feet of snow and we didn’t have d20s, only d2s and d3s. But to the question: I have always preferred the sneakier, tree-huggier classes like ranger or thief. As far as races, I go hobbit (ooops, silly me, I mean “halfling”) or half-elf. I guess I have a schizophrenic Aragorn … no … Bilbo! fetish. I like the idea of stealth rather than brawn, and I really dig the dark-and-stormy loner types with haunted bloodlines.
GM: The Hobbit movie. Is it going to happen? Your thoughts on PJ vs. Del Toro, and what is in store for the franchise?
EG: The news on this darned movie changes daily. Now that GDT is out, at least those who worried he’d Hellboy it up too much or front-load it with too much action and creatures and special effects, should be breathing a sigh of relief. GDT is a wonderful director, don’t get me wrong. But there’s some solace in knowing that PJ will be at the helm (at least that’s the last news) and the visual and directorial style will be consistent with LOTR. Now the bigger question is whether The Hobbit will be filmed in New Zealand or not, due to, first, labor/union issues, and now tax break issues, and whether Warner Bros. will want to make a film in a country where the actors threatened to strike. There have been huge rallies in NZ to keep the film there. As I write this, Warners is reportedly headed to NZ to meet with PJ’s company Wingnut Films to move the production offshore. (Weirdly, Facebook pulled a “Keep the Hobbit film shoot in New Zealand” page after it got 10,000 fans — is Facebook in cahoots with Time/Warner?). Tempers are flaring and folks are upset. It’s unfortunate, but since everyone involved stands to make a crapload of money, the film will get made, if not in NZ then the UK or Eastern Europe. (Editor’s note: the film will officially be made in NZ.)
GM: Do you think giving your child a geeky name (Zelda, Frodo, Superman) is a good thing, or a bad thing? Are parents setting their kids up for a geeky upbringing, or will this overt geek indoctrination end up backfiring?
EG: Will naming your spawn Arwen, Neo, Buffy or Leia condemn them to endless torment? I doubt it. There’s already a trend for crazy non-geek mash-up names that seem equally ridiculous, i.e., Breckin? Chance? Maxigan? Attica? Not much goofier than Samwise. Besides, by the time your babies are in high school, Lord of the Rings will be required reading, and they’ll be able to study French, Latin and Na’vi.
GM: What are your geeky black holes? Any fandoms or pastimes you just aren’t into/don’t get/wish you could like but don’t? (Me: Dr. Who, for instance)
EG: One problem is I don’t watch TV as much as I used to, so I’ve missed a lot of the recent shows like Battlestar Galactica and Lost (I know, it’s embarrassing to admit! They’re on my list to get on DVD!). And in terms of gaming, I don’t own Xbox or Wii, so I don’t have much first-person experience with the most ground-breaking games like BioShock or Gears of War. What can I say? My hand-eye was always pathetic (although I’m pretty good at old-school arcade games like Galaga and Robotron 2084). I never got into anime or manga, either (but weirdly loved “Star Blazers” as a kid). Like you, I never connected with Dr. Who, despite it airing each night on PBS between Julia Child and MacNeil/Lehrer. Those BBC special effects were just too cheesy a kid who was spoiled on ILM-quality effects. I’m too old for Joss Whedon fandom and wish I had gotten into Magic: The Gathering. But I do my best to keep up and make sure my black holes aren’t too deep. Lately, I’ve been diving into steampunk for an article I’m writing for the Boston Globe. I even attended a steampunk LARP. That was a hoot.
GM: Gilsdorf. Seems like the name has some geeky undertones. I think Gil-Galad, and dwarf. Were you just predestined?
EG: On my book tour, I’ve gotten a zillion comments from people asking me if my name is real. Yep, I say, my parents actually named me this tongue-twister “Ethan Gilsdorf.”. People wonder if it’s Elvish. Or Elvis. At the time, the name Ethan was about as rare as orc teeth. Friends in high school called me Nahte Frodslig.
GM: You spent a good amount of time away from geekery in general. Now you’re embracing it, and well, making money off of the story of your journey. Have you encountered any angry geeks in regards to your years of non-geekiness? Or have people been generally welcoming?
EG: Thankfully, people have been really welcoming. They appreciated me advocating for geek subcultures and in some cases, helping them suppress their own misgivings or hesitations about their geekery and embrace their passions entirely. Of course, rightly, some folks have been skeptical, both while I was traveling and researching the book, and then on the road speaking about Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks. I’ve had to pass a “geek cred” test. (Which I usually pass. Just don’t ask me about 4th edition rules.) As for making money off my journey — ha! Who told you writers can make money at this? Honestly, thus far this has been pretty much a break even project for me (so buy the paperback!)
GM: If you could be one superhero for a day, who would it be?
EG: Awesome Teeth Guy? 401K-Man? Jesus? I was a fan of Aquaman as a kid, but his superpowers always seemed pretty lame (communicating telepathically with marine life doesn’t really help with villains ransacking Gotham City, does it?) Actually, I always liked The Thing. And The Flash. OK, I’ll go with The Flash. He is cool.
GM: If you could live in one alternate world (from movies, books, etc.) which would it be, and why?
EG: I have to say Middle-earth. I am a total, 110 percent, certifiable Tolkien geek. I want to live in the Shire and drink ale and dance and grow carrots and eat myself fat and smoke pipeweed. And go on the occasional adventure.
GM: Who’s your geek crush? (If you have one.)
EG: As a confused pre-pubescent in the 1970s, I was infatuated with Lynda Carter (Wonder Woman) and her Amazonian boobs. Later, Carrie Fisher as Leia (particularly the Jabba-enslaved Leia in her bronze bikini) did it for me. Nowadays? Tina Fey. Is she a real geek? Probably not. But she looks geeky behind those glasses. I’m a sucker for nerdy librarian types.
GM: What geeky achievement are you most proud of?
EG: Other than writing Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks, I’d have to say my trip to New Zealand to visit as many of the Lord of the Rings filming locations as possible, stalk Peter Jackson and sneak in to Weta Workshop was a thrill. I met some of the LOTR effects guys like Peter Lyon (who made the swords) and Gino Acevedo (who did all the prosthetic makeup) and I got to say “Hi” to Richard Taylor. I also sweet-talked my way into seeing the actual manuscripts of The Hobbit and Lord of the Rings (they’re in Milwaukee, of all places). I was allowed to page through some of Tolkien’s handwritten drafts and drawings like the Gate of Moria and the original map of the Lonely Mountain. I tried not to drool. You can read about these geekouts in my book.
About Ethan:
Gilsdorf is the Somerville, Massachusetts-based author of Fantasy Freaks and Gaming Geeks: An Epic Quest for Reality Among Role Players, Online Gamers, and Other Dwellers of Imaginary Realms. He also published travel, arts, and pop culture stories regularly in The New York Times, The Boston Globe, Washington Post, The Christian Science Monitor and other magazines and newspapers worldwide. His blog “Geek Pride” is seen regularly on PsychologyToday.com and he has also been a guest on talk radio and at conventions like PAX and DragonCon as a fantasy and escapism expert. He watched the extended edition of the Lord of the Rings trilogy at least once a year, and he plays with his dice whenever he can. You can follow Ethan’s adventures (and read more about the book) here.
an academic geek sought to study wizard rock,
but not much was out there, not even to mock,
she heard of a book,
and wanted a look,
to read it and see if it was worth dobby’s sock
(if its not obvious, I chose to write about WHY I would like to win a copy of the book – which is it is one of the only I’ve seen to even mention wizard rock in any kind of detail beyond a simple mention that it exists. I would like to read the rest of course, but the wizard rock chapter is how I heard about this book first, because I was searching worldcat for books and dissertations that might mention wizard rock)
(also for the record – I am not meaning it might be worth Dobby being enslaved again… it would be Dobby’s sock in the sense of one of his socks he knitted, not the one that freed him – just realized I might better clarify =D lol)
Legolas Beloved,
To my elven love,
You are asleep perhaps,
Dreaming of a foreign world,
Untouched by my hands,
Unseen by my eyes,
I am not of the stars and walk not,
With a white crescent,
Burning on a pale brow,
I cannot compare,
To a maiden of your kind,
Their beauty forever,
An orchard of blossom in moonlight,
You are beyond me
an academic geek sought to study wizard rock,
but not much was out there, not even to mock,
she heard of a book,
and wanted a look,
to read it and see if it was worth dobby’s sock
(if its not obvious, I chose to write about WHY I would like to win a copy of the book – which is it is one of the only I’ve seen to even mention wizard rock in any kind of detail beyond a simple mention that it exists. I would like to read the rest of course, but the wizard rock chapter is how I heard about this book first, because I was searching worldcat for books and dissertations that might mention wizard rock)
(also for the record – I am not meaning it might be worth Dobby being enslaved again… it would be Dobby’s sock in the sense of one of his socks he knitted, not the one that freed him – just realized I might better clarify =D lol)
Legolas Beloved,
To my elven love,
You are asleep perhaps,
Dreaming of a foreign world,
Untouched by my hands,
Unseen by my eyes,
I am not of the stars and walk not,
With a white crescent,
Burning on a pale brow,
I cannot compare,
To a maiden of your kind,
Their beauty forever,
An orchard of blossom in moonlight,
You are beyond me
Twas late in the shire
the young hobbit appeared,
Perhaps he was inspired
for none knew whence he was reared.
He gazed all around,
at sights familiar yet strange;
Then he made for high ground
to get a feel for this range.
Range… hmm
The word made him feel stranger.
He attuned with a thrum,
He was… a ranger!
Lithely climbing a cliff face,
His eyes could see far and clear;
His feet descended in a race,
A village was near.
Silently moving
Past hobbit holes in the ground.
His luck was improving
He found a source of light and sound.
A tavern! A tavern!
A place to start and end tales.
He entered and drank in
Smells of wood, bread, and ales.
Sipping and supping
By the hot roaring fire,
He removed his hood
He had begun to perspire.
A table away
whispers stopped and eyes stared.
Then someone had their say;
the others turned and glared.
That someone left the rest,
He was a warrior and a dwarf;
He said, “we need a twelfth for our quest.
Are you Ethan Gilsdorf?”
Twas late in the shire
the young hobbit appeared,
Perhaps he was inspired
for none knew whence he was reared.
He gazed all around,
at sights familiar yet strange;
Then he made for high ground
to get a feel for this range.
Range… hmm
The word made him feel stranger.
He attuned with a thrum,
He was… a ranger!
Lithely climbing a cliff face,
His eyes could see far and clear;
His feet descended in a race,
A village was near.
Silently moving
Past hobbit holes in the ground.
His luck was improving
He found a source of light and sound.
A tavern! A tavern!
A place to start and end tales.
He entered and drank in
Smells of wood, bread, and ales.
Sipping and supping
By the hot roaring fire,
He removed his hood
He had begun to perspire.
A table away
whispers stopped and eyes stared.
Then someone had their say;
the others turned and glared.
That someone left the rest,
He was a warrior and a dwarf;
He said, “we need a twelfth for our quest.
Are you Ethan Gilsdorf?”
Star Trek Captains in Haiku
The Original
Series had Kirk–a hero
and womanizer.
Next Generation
had Picard, as noble as
a captain should be.
Deep Space Nine followed
Sisco, who was strong enough
to handle Bajor.
Voyager got lost
with stubborn Janeway leading.
But she got them home.
Enterprise was led
by a farmboy named Archer.
He had his hands full…
Star Trek Captains in Haiku
The Original
Series had Kirk–a hero
and womanizer.
Next Generation
had Picard, as noble as
a captain should be.
Deep Space Nine followed
Sisco, who was strong enough
to handle Bajor.
Voyager got lost
with stubborn Janeway leading.
But she got them home.
Enterprise was led
by a farmboy named Archer.
He had his hands full…
Ode to Tron
Complicated lights,
political maneuvers;
high speed racing. Watch!
Dillinger betrays Flynn.
Flynn hacks ENCOM but thwarted;
MCP wins game.
Alan creating Tron
to monitor MCP;
AI often scary!
ENCOM Laser Lab
digitizing real objects–
Flynn into mainframe.
Flynn, Tron and Ram escape
Light Sycle arena games.
User Flynn gains power.
Tron escapes tower–
Solar Sailor getaway.
Lora’s Yori helped.
Final battlesite, core.
MCP transfers functions
so Stark grows larger.
Flynn jumps into core.
Tron throws his disc to destroy.
System free! Flynn out.
Ode to Tron
Complicated lights,
political maneuvers;
high speed racing. Watch!
Dillinger betrays Flynn.
Flynn hacks ENCOM but thwarted;
MCP wins game.
Alan creating Tron
to monitor MCP;
AI often scary!
ENCOM Laser Lab
digitizing real objects–
Flynn into mainframe.
Flynn, Tron and Ram escape
Light Sycle arena games.
User Flynn gains power.
Tron escapes tower–
Solar Sailor getaway.
Lora’s Yori helped.
Final battlesite, core.
MCP transfers functions
so Stark grows larger.
Flynn jumps into core.
Tron throws his disc to destroy.
System free! Flynn out.
Vogon Poetry:
Squish.
Crunch.
Swirl.
Frog in a blender.
Worst margarita ever!
Vogon Poetry:
Squish.
Crunch.
Swirl.
Frog in a blender.
Worst margarita ever!
“The Fellowship”
Some hobbits, and men, and the rest
Set off on a dangerous quest
Some fought at a tower
Some found Sammath Naur
and some sailed off into the West
“The Fellowship”
Some hobbits, and men, and the rest
Set off on a dangerous quest
Some fought at a tower
Some found Sammath Naur
and some sailed off into the West
“A Most Superior Race”
Sage and temperate are the elves,
Who, with every year’s passing,
Dilute their tired hearts’ askings,
Smoldering want forever felled.
And for the ones who like to weld
In the dank, dark deep,
Where kisses of mithril may seep,
Life’s wonders are what can sell.
And as for those who time tells
Already, it is time to die,
Whispers for power spawns earthly lies
As dreaming rings its sweet bells.
Ah, but those in yonder dell
Think not too little, not too oft
Of weighty, dreary stuff.
Simple, sturdy, stout, they tell
The important things in life:
Mainly food, family, friends;
Lots of leisure, little strife.
“A Most Superior Race”
Sage and temperate are the elves,
Who, with every year’s passing,
Dilute their tired hearts’ askings,
Smoldering want forever felled.
And for the ones who like to weld
In the dank, dark deep,
Where kisses of mithril may seep,
Life’s wonders are what can sell.
And as for those who time tells
Already, it is time to die,
Whispers for power spawns earthly lies
As dreaming rings its sweet bells.
Ah, but those in yonder dell
Think not too little, not too oft
Of weighty, dreary stuff.
Simple, sturdy, stout, they tell
The important things in life:
Mainly food, family, friends;
Lots of leisure, little strife.
A Orlando (aka…the Fancrone Song)
To the tune of Fernando, by ABBA
Can you hear the screams, Orlando?
It wasn’t long ago, another fan-filled night like this.
In the flash bulb light Orlando,
You were praying to escape and quickly running for your car
You could hear the distant squees
And sounds of Fancrone cries were coming from afar.
They seem closer now Orlando…
Every hour that they chase you seems to last eternally
You were overwhelmed Orlando
They were old and full of spunk and none of them prepared to fly
Don’t be ashamed to say the
scream of rabid Fancrones almost made you cry.
They were hiding on the stairs that night
In sheer delight, Orlando
They were waiting there for you, you see
To share their glee, Orlando
Though you never dreamed it’d be like this
Do you have regrets?
If you had to do the same again
Would you, my friend, Orlando?
They may be old and grey Orlando,
But it’s been only hours since they saw a longbow in your hand.
Can you hear the screams of “Orlando!”
And still recall that faithful night when PJ told of his plan
I can tell it from your face
How proud you are to be a part of work that grand…
They were hiding on the stairs that night
In sheer delight, Orlando
They were waiting there for you, you see
To share their glee, Orlando
Though you never dreamed it’d be like this
Do you have regrets?
If you had to do the same again
Would you, my friend, Orlando?friend wrote this for me back when LOTR was new and I was a SERIOUS Orlando Fancrone: older lady who ‘appreciated’ Orlando Bloom :<)
A Orlando (aka…the Fancrone Song)
To the tune of Fernando, by ABBA
Can you hear the screams, Orlando?
It wasn’t long ago, another fan-filled night like this.
In the flash bulb light Orlando,
You were praying to escape and quickly running for your car
You could hear the distant squees
And sounds of Fancrone cries were coming from afar.
They seem closer now Orlando…
Every hour that they chase you seems to last eternally
You were overwhelmed Orlando
They were old and full of spunk and none of them prepared to fly
Don’t be ashamed to say the
scream of rabid Fancrones almost made you cry.
They were hiding on the stairs that night
In sheer delight, Orlando
They were waiting there for you, you see
To share their glee, Orlando
Though you never dreamed it’d be like this
Do you have regrets?
If you had to do the same again
Would you, my friend, Orlando?
They may be old and grey Orlando,
But it’s been only hours since they saw a longbow in your hand.
Can you hear the screams of “Orlando!”
And still recall that faithful night when PJ told of his plan
I can tell it from your face
How proud you are to be a part of work that grand…
They were hiding on the stairs that night
In sheer delight, Orlando
They were waiting there for you, you see
To share their glee, Orlando
Though you never dreamed it’d be like this
Do you have regrets?
If you had to do the same again
Would you, my friend, Orlando?friend wrote this for me back when LOTR was new and I was a SERIOUS Orlando Fancrone: older lady who ‘appreciated’ Orlando Bloom :<)
A Precious Sonnet:
He asks me: “what is in his pocktesses?”
We do not know. We only know she is gone
And that we hate Baggins forever!
Filthy, nasty hobbit tricks us of her
So we weep in the dark and the mist
And follows it out of the mountain
But dirty, stinky orcses grabs us
Their blades and chains burns us!
Shire! Baggins! We cry for our mercy!
Worse than little orcs gallop for her
The ones hooded wants her like me – more.
But the black riders do not find her
She has gone to Bree. No! to Rivendell
No! to Moria she goes – we follow.
She is leaving with the other baggins
We follows it and her – and the fat one
The other baggins is now our master.
He reminds us of our name: Smeagol.
Go away – and never come back I says!
I am nice to master, I lead him
To the land of black – and of his eye!
His eye wants her too! I have seen for years!
Master and the fat one go another way
Caught! Brutish, stupid human beats me!
Master has betrayed me – we return.
We will take her soon, the tunnels approach.
Cirith Ungol, where eight legs will devour
And we shall have her, after they have gone
Stubborn and strong hobbitses they are
My ally is slain – but no matter
Once more I follow, this time up flame
Master cannot cast it down into red
She is mine now! I leap for her – reaching.
Fingers in the way – crunch! – and she is free!
My love, we fall in burning ectasy!
At least we had her – if only a moment
My heart, and flesh melt for her – my precious!
A Precious Sonnet:
He asks me: “what is in his pocktesses?”
We do not know. We only know she is gone
And that we hate Baggins forever!
Filthy, nasty hobbit tricks us of her
So we weep in the dark and the mist
And follows it out of the mountain
But dirty, stinky orcses grabs us
Their blades and chains burns us!
Shire! Baggins! We cry for our mercy!
Worse than little orcs gallop for her
The ones hooded wants her like me – more.
But the black riders do not find her
She has gone to Bree. No! to Rivendell
No! to Moria she goes – we follow.
She is leaving with the other baggins
We follows it and her – and the fat one
The other baggins is now our master.
He reminds us of our name: Smeagol.
Go away – and never come back I says!
I am nice to master, I lead him
To the land of black – and of his eye!
His eye wants her too! I have seen for years!
Master and the fat one go another way
Caught! Brutish, stupid human beats me!
Master has betrayed me – we return.
We will take her soon, the tunnels approach.
Cirith Ungol, where eight legs will devour
And we shall have her, after they have gone
Stubborn and strong hobbitses they are
My ally is slain – but no matter
Once more I follow, this time up flame
Master cannot cast it down into red
She is mine now! I leap for her – reaching.
Fingers in the way – crunch! – and she is free!
My love, we fall in burning ectasy!
At least we had her – if only a moment
My heart, and flesh melt for her – my precious!
Midsummer
‘Twas Midsummer’s in this wondrous land
Where rollicked the last Aegean Ram
To music made on harp and gong
And driven by Mad Hatter’s song.
And loud sang he the lyric truth
Bequeathed to him in blushing youth.
By Father’s Mother’s Brother’s wife
‘Twas his core philosophy of life.
“Oh Walrus spin and Dodo whirl
While Caterpillar’s bagpipes skirl
And all you nauseating nasty beasts
Turn a wild kolo on this reef
Beneath the clouds of dun and dinge
That hang the sky a ragged fringe.”
Down Alice fell, by happenstance,
A witness to this frantic dance
A witless child of merely ten
That only sought her home again.
“So, silly girl of golden curl,
Your salty sea of tears has swirled
And torn apart our homely land
Leaving just this little strip of sand
This last of things, both near and far
This stinking sinking mud caked bar.”
In time poor girl found her wits
Smoothed rumpled dress and combed the bits
Of kelp leaves from her sodden hair;
Stepped carefully across to where
The Hatter stood, his eyes ablaze,
His mind escaped to better days,
To rosy times in garden green
And croquet with his friend the Queen.
But sir, I say, it is absurd
To blame me for your loss of earth
I was not here! How could it be?
That I caused this catastrophe?
Midsummer
‘Twas Midsummer’s in this wondrous land
Where rollicked the last Aegean Ram
To music made on harp and gong
And driven by Mad Hatter’s song.
And loud sang he the lyric truth
Bequeathed to him in blushing youth.
By Father’s Mother’s Brother’s wife
‘Twas his core philosophy of life.
“Oh Walrus spin and Dodo whirl
While Caterpillar’s bagpipes skirl
And all you nauseating nasty beasts
Turn a wild kolo on this reef
Beneath the clouds of dun and dinge
That hang the sky a ragged fringe.”
Down Alice fell, by happenstance,
A witness to this frantic dance
A witless child of merely ten
That only sought her home again.
“So, silly girl of golden curl,
Your salty sea of tears has swirled
And torn apart our homely land
Leaving just this little strip of sand
This last of things, both near and far
This stinking sinking mud caked bar.”
In time poor girl found her wits
Smoothed rumpled dress and combed the bits
Of kelp leaves from her sodden hair;
Stepped carefully across to where
The Hatter stood, his eyes ablaze,
His mind escaped to better days,
To rosy times in garden green
And croquet with his friend the Queen.
But sir, I say, it is absurd
To blame me for your loss of earth
I was not here! How could it be?
That I caused this catastrophe?
The love of my life: It
To make me you feel my love!
since i get the notice of your coming i was surprised!
the days passed away, but my love for you increase constantly!
many people were speaking about you,
many people were wondering about you,
many people just tried to get early than others,
but there is a true love,
that cant be overwhelmed by anybody,
there have passed 10 months since your first appeareance…
that time, when you first revelead your beauty,
when the people for the first time touched you,
and the happiness was everywhere,
from Arkansas to Wisconsin,
from El Paso to New York…
Im just trying to remember what was my expression the first time i meet you,
was just 4 months after your appeareance to the world press…
diaries, television, radio and the internet covered your story…
When i haved in my hands for the first time,
and start to know your interior,
know your feelings,
what was your thinking,
how great you was!
Please, dont run away from me,
please stay with me more time,
your 10 hours of life make me cry,
however the time with you is unique…
We can listen the music we love,
we can play the games we want,
we read together what we need,
but most important we watch movies together…
Oh!
stay with me, dear IPAD…
The love of my life: It
To make me you feel my love!
since i get the notice of your coming i was surprised!
the days passed away, but my love for you increase constantly!
many people were speaking about you,
many people were wondering about you,
many people just tried to get early than others,
but there is a true love,
that cant be overwhelmed by anybody,
there have passed 10 months since your first appeareance…
that time, when you first revelead your beauty,
when the people for the first time touched you,
and the happiness was everywhere,
from Arkansas to Wisconsin,
from El Paso to New York…
Im just trying to remember what was my expression the first time i meet you,
was just 4 months after your appeareance to the world press…
diaries, television, radio and the internet covered your story…
When i haved in my hands for the first time,
and start to know your interior,
know your feelings,
what was your thinking,
how great you was!
Please, dont run away from me,
please stay with me more time,
your 10 hours of life make me cry,
however the time with you is unique…
We can listen the music we love,
we can play the games we want,
we read together what we need,
but most important we watch movies together…
Oh!
stay with me, dear IPAD…
Oh, here is the version with the author, and a bit edited. Sorry!
Author: Beriadan (Torn Forum ID) / Alex B
He asks me: “what is in his pocktesses?”
We do not know. We only know she is gone
And that we hate Baggins forever!
Filthy, nasty hobbit tricks us of her
So we weep in the dark and the mist
And follows it out of the mountain
But dirty, stinky orcses grabs us
Their blades and chains burns us!
Shire! Baggins! We cry for our mercy!
Worse than little orcs gallop for her
The ones hooded wants her like me – more.
But the black riders do not find her
She has gone to Bree. No! to Rivendell
No! to Moria she goes – we follow.
She is leaving with the other baggins
We follows it and her – and the fat one
The other baggins is now our master.
He reminds us of our name: Smeagol.
Go away – and never come back I says!
I am nice to master, I lead him
To the land of black – and of his eye!
His eye wants her too! I have seen for years!
Master and the fat one go another way
Caught! Brutish, stupid human beats me!
Master has betrayed me – we return.
We will take her soon, the tunnels approach.
Cirith Ungol, where eight legs will devour
And we shall have her, after they have gone
Stubborn and strong hobbitses they are
My ally is slain – but no matter
Once more I follow, this time up flame
Master cannot cast it down into red
She is mine now! I leap for her – reaching.
Fingers in the way – crunch! – and she is free!
My love, we fall in burning ectasy!
At least we had her – if only a moment
My heart, and flesh melt for her – my precious!
Oh, here is the version with the author, and a bit edited. Sorry!
Author: Beriadan (Torn Forum ID) / Alex B
He asks me: “what is in his pocktesses?”
We do not know. We only know she is gone
And that we hate Baggins forever!
Filthy, nasty hobbit tricks us of her
So we weep in the dark and the mist
And follows it out of the mountain
But dirty, stinky orcses grabs us
Their blades and chains burns us!
Shire! Baggins! We cry for our mercy!
Worse than little orcs gallop for her
The ones hooded wants her like me – more.
But the black riders do not find her
She has gone to Bree. No! to Rivendell
No! to Moria she goes – we follow.
She is leaving with the other baggins
We follows it and her – and the fat one
The other baggins is now our master.
He reminds us of our name: Smeagol.
Go away – and never come back I says!
I am nice to master, I lead him
To the land of black – and of his eye!
His eye wants her too! I have seen for years!
Master and the fat one go another way
Caught! Brutish, stupid human beats me!
Master has betrayed me – we return.
We will take her soon, the tunnels approach.
Cirith Ungol, where eight legs will devour
And we shall have her, after they have gone
Stubborn and strong hobbitses they are
My ally is slain – but no matter
Once more I follow, this time up flame
Master cannot cast it down into red
She is mine now! I leap for her – reaching.
Fingers in the way – crunch! – and she is free!
My love, we fall in burning ectasy!
At least we had her – if only a moment
My heart, and flesh melt for her – my precious!
(George Lucas is going in my Axis of Evil…)
There once was a galaxy far, far away
Where sunsets were binary, Jawas would play
The story was epic and struck all the notes
Pulling on heartstrings and winning my vote
It told of a Jedi: young, noble and brave
Who fought with the rebels. Their chances were grave
We were captured as viewers by dazzling sights
And immersed in the cause and the allies great plight
We cared for the characters, thrilled at the plot
But then there were new films which set in the rot
The prequels destroyed all the intrigue and fun
George Lucas thought “Cash cow! Take money and run!”
Did he think “They won’t notice as long as I use
Lots of special effects to charm and amuse”?
We baulked at Jar-Jar and the painful screenplay
And even the actors all squirmed in dismay
Explaining the force was quite hard to take:
Replacing the mystery with science half-baked
At least Lucas left the first three films alone
Oh wait no he tinkered – now Solo will moan
“I once was quite edgy – ask Greedo he’ll state
I shot with my blaster and sealed his fate
Before he could blink, before he could twitch
My quick trigger finger had scratched on the itch
But Georgie, he just couldn’t leave it alone:
“Let’s make Han more “goody” – we’ll have him go prone
To dodge Greedo’s bullet…Yeah! Have him shoot first
Then Solo responds with an accurate burst”
“No, no!” We all cried, “You’ve ruined it G!”
We liked it already. Why can’t you see?
The great “No way!” moments like “Luke I’m you’re Dad”
Are ruined forever oh this is so sad!
Watched from the beginning we all then would see
What’s coming because it was Episode III
That told us Luke Skywalker’s Darth Vader’s son
And Leia’s Darth’s daughter. George, what have you done?
You took what was precious and heavenly sent
And turned it into a Star Wars Fan’s lament
(George Lucas is going in my Axis of Evil…)
There once was a galaxy far, far away
Where sunsets were binary, Jawas would play
The story was epic and struck all the notes
Pulling on heartstrings and winning my vote
It told of a Jedi: young, noble and brave
Who fought with the rebels. Their chances were grave
We were captured as viewers by dazzling sights
And immersed in the cause and the allies great plight
We cared for the characters, thrilled at the plot
But then there were new films which set in the rot
The prequels destroyed all the intrigue and fun
George Lucas thought “Cash cow! Take money and run!”
Did he think “They won’t notice as long as I use
Lots of special effects to charm and amuse”?
We baulked at Jar-Jar and the painful screenplay
And even the actors all squirmed in dismay
Explaining the force was quite hard to take:
Replacing the mystery with science half-baked
At least Lucas left the first three films alone
Oh wait no he tinkered – now Solo will moan
“I once was quite edgy – ask Greedo he’ll state
I shot with my blaster and sealed his fate
Before he could blink, before he could twitch
My quick trigger finger had scratched on the itch
But Georgie, he just couldn’t leave it alone:
“Let’s make Han more “goody” – we’ll have him go prone
To dodge Greedo’s bullet…Yeah! Have him shoot first
Then Solo responds with an accurate burst”
“No, no!” We all cried, “You’ve ruined it G!”
We liked it already. Why can’t you see?
The great “No way!” moments like “Luke I’m you’re Dad”
Are ruined forever oh this is so sad!
Watched from the beginning we all then would see
What’s coming because it was Episode III
That told us Luke Skywalker’s Darth Vader’s son
And Leia’s Darth’s daughter. George, what have you done?
You took what was precious and heavenly sent
And turned it into a Star Wars Fan’s lament
Ode to Rivendell
A torrent overflows -the knowledge of the ages-,
An incessant rain of wisdom sublime;
It runs through eternal vale and forest
Making triviality drown and die.
Ephemeral thoughts have no part
In contemplation of the mountains high;
Lore dwells forever in the heart whose eyes
Behold the glory of the Imladris land.
In the multitude of pine trees deeply rooted
The abundance of knowledge is reflected,
Its complex ways are seen connected
By winding paths and watchful bridges.
And beheld from above the landscape renders
A perfect pattern, cunningly interwoven,
Retold and described in voices ancient
By the inland murmur of the water flowing.
In the valley of Rivendell immemorial
No empty sound or sight ever rises;
The bird that sings, the wind that howls
Have meanings deep and wonderful.
The flowers speak of secrets priceless,
About hidden treasures of old,
Which only years of contemplation
Will lead the mortal to unfold.
Whoever gathered all this wisdom
In book, or parchment or scroll?
Perhaps it’s meant to flow forever
And be ever rising like the dawn.
And when the roamer, unaware,
Is stunned, amazed by its glow,
Great joy is born, a new beginning,
That heart has found an endless trove.
2009 Erica Yanina Luján
Ode to Rivendell
A torrent overflows -the knowledge of the ages-,
An incessant rain of wisdom sublime;
It runs through eternal vale and forest
Making triviality drown and die.
Ephemeral thoughts have no part
In contemplation of the mountains high;
Lore dwells forever in the heart whose eyes
Behold the glory of the Imladris land.
In the multitude of pine trees deeply rooted
The abundance of knowledge is reflected,
Its complex ways are seen connected
By winding paths and watchful bridges.
And beheld from above the landscape renders
A perfect pattern, cunningly interwoven,
Retold and described in voices ancient
By the inland murmur of the water flowing.
In the valley of Rivendell immemorial
No empty sound or sight ever rises;
The bird that sings, the wind that howls
Have meanings deep and wonderful.
The flowers speak of secrets priceless,
About hidden treasures of old,
Which only years of contemplation
Will lead the mortal to unfold.
Whoever gathered all this wisdom
In book, or parchment or scroll?
Perhaps it’s meant to flow forever
And be ever rising like the dawn.
And when the roamer, unaware,
Is stunned, amazed by its glow,
Great joy is born, a new beginning,
That heart has found an endless trove.
2009 Erica Yanina Luján
I wrote this quite a few years ago and it’s not exactly “geeky” (though what geek doesn’t like food and appliances?) but I thought I’d share it.
I had a turkey sandwich —
by type a submarine;
it covered all four food groups,
bread veggies cheese protein.
I thought that I would stash it
safely in refrigerator,
kept nice and fresh and crispy cool
for when I came back later.
What is pray tell that saying
about best-made plans laid waste?
For I feel the worst has happened:
it befell another’s taste.
Yes ’tis true my turkey sub
is nowhere to be found.
I trust you’d tell me if you
came across it lying round.
The moral to this story
is keep your lunches under locks:
The fridge will send your sandwich
where the dryer sends your socks.
I wrote this quite a few years ago and it’s not exactly “geeky” (though what geek doesn’t like food and appliances?) but I thought I’d share it.
I had a turkey sandwich —
by type a submarine;
it covered all four food groups,
bread veggies cheese protein.
I thought that I would stash it
safely in refrigerator,
kept nice and fresh and crispy cool
for when I came back later.
What is pray tell that saying
about best-made plans laid waste?
For I feel the worst has happened:
it befell another’s taste.
Yes ’tis true my turkey sub
is nowhere to be found.
I trust you’d tell me if you
came across it lying round.
The moral to this story
is keep your lunches under locks:
The fridge will send your sandwich
where the dryer sends your socks.
Estel
Anonymity cloaks you well,
beware it does not enslave you
‘ere you age another day.
Your name will be known
by lord and servant,
laying a legacy of hope
that rivals your forefathers.
Hidden for years, too long,
ill at ease with your countenance,
do you evade the gaze
of yourself or of The Enemy?
Doubt always trails you,
gnawing resolve and endurance,
like a faceless wight.
Grim you have become
in the eyes of friends,
too rarely does your face
relax in the throes of levity;
feel pity for us all,
for those that witness it,
truly see the face of a King.
Cast aside now all hesitation,
there is but one path
left for you to tread.
Ride fast, walk far, endure,
strength, will and compassion
shall carry you to your destiny,
completion of all our hopes.
Neither the living
nor the dead
shall hold any dread,
or raise any barrier against you.
Fear not temptation of The Enemy,
for you are of the blood of The Faithful,
who held true the ideals of Numenor.
Rise for me now,
oh hero’s son.
Stand forth, anew.
From the cold comfort
of the days long shadows,
to blind the world
with the sunlight in your heart.
Estel
Anonymity cloaks you well,
beware it does not enslave you
‘ere you age another day.
Your name will be known
by lord and servant,
laying a legacy of hope
that rivals your forefathers.
Hidden for years, too long,
ill at ease with your countenance,
do you evade the gaze
of yourself or of The Enemy?
Doubt always trails you,
gnawing resolve and endurance,
like a faceless wight.
Grim you have become
in the eyes of friends,
too rarely does your face
relax in the throes of levity;
feel pity for us all,
for those that witness it,
truly see the face of a King.
Cast aside now all hesitation,
there is but one path
left for you to tread.
Ride fast, walk far, endure,
strength, will and compassion
shall carry you to your destiny,
completion of all our hopes.
Neither the living
nor the dead
shall hold any dread,
or raise any barrier against you.
Fear not temptation of The Enemy,
for you are of the blood of The Faithful,
who held true the ideals of Numenor.
Rise for me now,
oh hero’s son.
Stand forth, anew.
From the cold comfort
of the days long shadows,
to blind the world
with the sunlight in your heart.
Once upon a time
When knights were bold,
Maidens chaste (!) and armour cold.
Pastures were greener
Hooligans meaner,
Sword blades keener,
In days of old.
Jousting with lances
Taking great chances
Flaunting romances
In days of old.
Hit points were serious,
Intrigues mysterious,
You Bash the Balrog
While I climb the tree!
Airwaves were breezes,
Fawlty Towers were plans,
Mac not a burger but a name of your clan.
Conventions were rules, fans hid your face,
Klingons were rug rats, Worf was a place.
In days of old.
Once upon a time
When knights were bold,
Maidens chaste (!) and armour cold.
Pastures were greener
Hooligans meaner,
Sword blades keener,
In days of old.
Jousting with lances
Taking great chances
Flaunting romances
In days of old.
Hit points were serious,
Intrigues mysterious,
You Bash the Balrog
While I climb the tree!
Airwaves were breezes,
Fawlty Towers were plans,
Mac not a burger but a name of your clan.
Conventions were rules, fans hid your face,
Klingons were rug rats, Worf was a place.
In days of old.
He was the one, yes
Oh Neo, not Morpheus
A dream, the Matrix
He was the one, yes
Oh Neo, not Morpheus
A dream, the Matrix
I Heard it in a Dream
A silver throng of latent song,
Where ballads fall from trees,
And dance upon the ariose dawn,
Cascading their reprise,
I look beyond the sea of glass,
Where dreams are wont to stray,
And sit in thought, upon the grass,
Of places far away,
Of Flame and Shadow deftly vied,
Denied his baneful throne,
Of ancient dragon’s noble stride,
In halls beneath the stone,
The rising of a subtle fire,
In fey celestial gleam,
A melody upon a lyre,
I heard it in a dream.
I Heard it in a Dream
A silver throng of latent song,
Where ballads fall from trees,
And dance upon the ariose dawn,
Cascading their reprise,
I look beyond the sea of glass,
Where dreams are wont to stray,
And sit in thought, upon the grass,
Of places far away,
Of Flame and Shadow deftly vied,
Denied his baneful throne,
Of ancient dragon’s noble stride,
In halls beneath the stone,
The rising of a subtle fire,
In fey celestial gleam,
A melody upon a lyre,
I heard it in a dream.
Dínen Estel
Dínen estel, celeb uial,
Elin or menel, alag gwai linnol,
Eriol nin tinnu, nuin gwaith laer,
Mi morn gwanu, athan i ear.
Dínen Estel
Dínen estel, celeb uial,
Elin or menel, alag gwai linnol,
Eriol nin tinnu, nuin gwaith laer,
Mi morn gwanu, athan i ear.
The dirt lot is part of a library now
The one that used to be
A world of recess and mayhem
When the tv show cameras
Of live in-class and in-hallway moments turn off
This lot’s airspace had never hosted
Paper airplane exhibitions however
Which stayed in fifth grade
The wall-ball wall has vanished
Where once the fat and purple faced kid
Had you in a headlock
So far away from the other side of the dirt lot
Where you discovered
That the beautiful girl
Had actually thought the opposite thing
Of what you remembered
Leaving whatever it is you had brought to her attention
More like a dead bird
Than a present
But at least the other kids
Would never know
That you’re first cd you ever owned
Was Alvin and the chipmunks
Singing Christmas songs
While some kids
Had even started to listen to bands like Tool
While you were going to the midnight premiere
Of star wars episode one
With a plastic light saber in hand
Nothing was as bad as last year though
When everyone took the time
To tell you that they were disappointed
That you returned to their school
After briefly moving away
And the far away world of final fantasy seven
On the first sony playstation
Was in the far away world of after school
Gym class would touch down on earth much before
Alien presidential fitness to hang you from the bar
Pullup-less again that year
In front of everyone on a nice day
But today it’s an empty library
Too big for this small town
Which was too small for me
So I moved far away
Right after highschool
The dirt lot is part of a library now
The one that used to be
A world of recess and mayhem
When the tv show cameras
Of live in-class and in-hallway moments turn off
This lot’s airspace had never hosted
Paper airplane exhibitions however
Which stayed in fifth grade
The wall-ball wall has vanished
Where once the fat and purple faced kid
Had you in a headlock
So far away from the other side of the dirt lot
Where you discovered
That the beautiful girl
Had actually thought the opposite thing
Of what you remembered
Leaving whatever it is you had brought to her attention
More like a dead bird
Than a present
But at least the other kids
Would never know
That you’re first cd you ever owned
Was Alvin and the chipmunks
Singing Christmas songs
While some kids
Had even started to listen to bands like Tool
While you were going to the midnight premiere
Of star wars episode one
With a plastic light saber in hand
Nothing was as bad as last year though
When everyone took the time
To tell you that they were disappointed
That you returned to their school
After briefly moving away
And the far away world of final fantasy seven
On the first sony playstation
Was in the far away world of after school
Gym class would touch down on earth much before
Alien presidential fitness to hang you from the bar
Pullup-less again that year
In front of everyone on a nice day
But today it’s an empty library
Too big for this small town
Which was too small for me
So I moved far away
Right after highschool
Harry Dresden knows
the Sword of Damocles cuts
those who would harm him.
Harry Dresden knows
the Sword of Damocles cuts
those who would harm him.
In actual Quenya:
I LANTA ONDOLINDËO
Ai! Vanwa Ondolindë, anvanima,
anna Ulmo i Noldonnar;
lantalda nánë i tyel.
Hallë harant máhtanë; kále mórenna.
Ecthelion Ehtelëo kolië taura hyandorya;
Kosomot Valarauko váitaina ló nárli;
rúkimavë harnë i atta, lencanë i undumessë.
Á naina an i lanta Noldoron.
translation to english:
THE FALL OF GONDOLIN
Ah! Lost Gondolin, the most full of beauty,
Ulmo’s present to the Noldor;
thy fall brought the end.
Two high lords at battle; light against darkness.
Ecthelion of the Fountain wielding his powerful sword;
Gothmog the Balrog surrounded by flame;
both terribly wounded, were lost into the abyss.
Weep for the fall of the Noldor.
In actual Quenya:
I LANTA ONDOLINDËO
Ai! Vanwa Ondolindë, anvanima,
anna Ulmo i Noldonnar;
lantalda nánë i tyel.
Hallë harant máhtanë; kále mórenna.
Ecthelion Ehtelëo kolië taura hyandorya;
Kosomot Valarauko váitaina ló nárli;
rúkimavë harnë i atta, lencanë i undumessë.
Á naina an i lanta Noldoron.
translation to english:
THE FALL OF GONDOLIN
Ah! Lost Gondolin, the most full of beauty,
Ulmo’s present to the Noldor;
thy fall brought the end.
Two high lords at battle; light against darkness.
Ecthelion of the Fountain wielding his powerful sword;
Gothmog the Balrog surrounded by flame;
both terribly wounded, were lost into the abyss.
Weep for the fall of the Noldor.