The other night, while sitting in a candlelit room watching Return of the King with my beee-u-tiful girlfriend, I started to have an internal dialogue. I enjoy the Lord of the Rings films. They’re amazingly well-done, as far as production goes. And some of the images are just about overpowering. They’re poorly acted, in my humble, but in a sort of way that fits the overall weirdness that a simpering little dandy like Tolkien probably would’ve liked.

So, there at the end when SPOILER WHOA SPOILER Aragorn has defeated the dark powers-that-was with some small assistance by midget-folk, and is being crowned king, and everybody’s getting all weepy, I said to myself, “What’s up with these fucking monarchists? Don’t they realize that there’s going to be ethnic cleansing and genocide, starting with those hairy little Drúedains, as soon as Captain Eugenic there gets his in-bred ass in the saddle? Checks and balances, people!”

In Middle Earth, I would’ve been a plurocratic revolutionary, speaking truth to power and spreading democracy, undermining the authoritarian might-is-right rule of hereditary tyrants like Mr. “Ein Volk, Ein Land” Aragorn . Well, that or a barber. Get a haircut, you pussies.