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Just because I’m losing doesn’t mean I’m lost.
Not all those who wander are lost.
For the road goes ever on.
Gilgalad was an elven king of who the harpers sadly sing.
The last whose realm was fair and free between the mountains and the sea.
Darn. I guess I need to read the Silmarillion.
His sword was strong, his lance was keen, his shining helm afar was seen.
Till into shadow fell his star, to Mordor where the shadows are.
I haven’t, but LotR was my older sister’s jam throughout her teenage years and I memorized a lot by proxy.
One does not simply walk into Mordor. (I’m sorry, that’s all I have. 🙁 )
Well no, that’s why Gilgalad had to fall into Mordor.
This one’s Chesterton:
Though I rule the floor of the earth with the seven sins for rods.
I would rather fall with Adam than rise with all your gods.
(Gaaaaa… if only I could remember a quote from Father Brown…)
I love Chesterton. The Man Who Was Thursday was so confusing, but looking back I think it was a really beautiful story about the order and chaos. One of my all time favorite books was written by him. It was a formative little story about the joy of living called Manalive.
I’m reading The Napoleon of Nottinghill right now, and part of me thinks it’s funny and the other part finds it terrifying.
Why terrifying?
I guess I should read some more works by him…
It’s a story that takes place in a somewhat heartless bureaucratic future version of England where the king is selected at random. As a joke the man who becomes king breaks all the neighborhoods in London into separate kingdoms, and everyone puts up with it even though they think he’s a bit of an idiot. People continue going about their lives until a group of businessmen start in on plans to build a road through Nottinghill, but what they never expected is that the Provost the king put in charge of that neighborhood actually takes his job seriously. When they won’t be persuaded to alter their plans the Provost declares war on the rest of London, and suddenly the businessmen have to become soldiers to try to stop him. It’s a fun story because it’s delightful seeing these businessmen trying to come to grips with the notion of a man who actually loves his country. And it’s a terrifying story because the Provost is willing to kill and be killed in order to protect his home.
I wouldn’t say that that makes it terrifying.
There are people, younger than you, manalive, that are fighting for our country. Killing and being willing to die for our rights. I don’t see that as terrifying.
Now, if manalive just went around killing people and willing to be killed by other people fighting for the rights of alpaca fur (hair? Wool? Whatever they got on their backs), that would be terrifying and idiotic.
Hrm.
Weird fact: the hair of an alpaca is always referred to as fiber. People get angry if you say fur or wool.
Weird.
Alrighty. There’s one order of business we really need to address; does anyone have access to scuba gear, or alternatively how long can you hold your breathe?
I can hold my breath for about a minute…I’ll have to get faster at weaving baskets apparently.
I timed it. I panic and start breathing again after 13 seconds. We might have a problem.
Just a little.
I should also probably google basket weaving at some point.
I can go for like 12 seconds before I flip out and breathe.
But I can buy scuba gear.
I know my dad’s been scuba diving before…he may have a self-contained underwater breathing apparatus hidden away somewhere but I’m not sure..
I can go for about 2 seconds. Maybe more, I dunno.
I can hold my breath for about 20 seconds without goggles. With goggles it’s about 30-35… I have a panic attack when I close my eyes lol…
Maybe it would be smart of us to not do it completely submerged, as most if us freak out after a few seconds of holding our breath.
And for me to put my head underwater I have to hold my nose, so I would be one handed (I flip out immediately otherwise)
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