Even as we speak, all across North America, the greatest story ever told
is being unveiled in the form of huge illusions watched by hundreds of
people at once. This is, of course, the most important event since the
publishing of that great tome of knowledge, the Silmarillion, in 1977.

I'd like to suggest that we all take this opportunity to give thanks to
the Lord of the Imagination, JRR Tolkien, and his faithful son,
Christopher, who has carried on the torch of the Middle-Earth vision
after the death of his father.

I'd also like to suggest that if Fellowship, perchance, sucks, that we
band together and descend on Peter Jackson like a horde of VERY feisty
and VERY grumpy badgers.

Three Rings for the Elven-kings under the sky,
Seven for the Dwarf-lords in their halls of stone,
Nine for Mortal men, doomed to die,
One for the Dark Lord on his dark throne
In the Land of Mordor, where the Shadows lie.
One Ring to rule them all, One Ring to find them,
One Ring to bring them all and in the darkness bind them.
In the Land of Mordor, where the Shadows lie.

Penned by my hand on the 23rd of Scarlatan, in the year 294 AF.