The Ride of Eorl

And so, after more hours than he cares to think about, my Fool has finished the latest BBB moving picture, The Ride of Eorl.

It always takes longer than he thinks it will, and yet is not as finished as he was hoping when he started out. Eventually, it all just takes so long that he throws up his hands and refuses to work on it any more. So, if you see any mistakes, don't bother telling my Fool. He won't listen.

My Fool has asked me to give particular thanks to a bunch of people (he even wrote their names down for me) but no way am I going to do that. I'm on strike for this moving picture. I refused to appear in it as I was not provided with a proper costume, and I'm not going to start being all nicey nicey about it now. Anyway, Cennwyn doesn't deserve any special thanks as her name appeared BEFORE mine in the credits, which is just plain wrong. And neither do Andurula and Moragaeth deserve any special thanks because they should be honoured to work with the Rose Rockstar (not that I was in the movie, but still) and so I won't mention them at all. And as for Carica and Hymen - well, pfft to them. I've got better things to write about than people who don't design proper costumes and eat too much. Tomrica can't realistically claim any credit for location advice (I was just about to say 'Ost Elendil' when Tomrica got in ahead of me by a split second). And anybody could have provided 1000000 pieces of ore to make stuff; it was purely luck that Aedon did, it wasn't anything to do with kindness or talent. So why should he get any special mention either?

Exactly. I quite agree with you. I am not going to make any special mentions at all. So there.

Aegthil's Guide to the Bagpipes

The bagpipes (often called simply "the pipes") are one of the most unusual "musical" instruments, both in their origin and their sound, and bring a unique "flavour" to the Bree music scene.

Origin of the bagpipes

It is often claimed that the bagpipes originated from some of the earliest wind instruments played by the dwarfs of the Blue Mountain region, but this is just one of the many fallacies promulgated by ignorance.

The very first "bagpipes" were actually a shipment of used Elvish contraceptive devices that were being transported to the West for hygenic destruction in a sterile environment. On its way past Ered Luin this shipment was waylaid by the then Dwarf King, Thorin IV Oakenlegs.

Initial questions over the function of this shipment was soon answered, when a fortuitous discovery by the famous Dwarven minstrel, Boli Mightyspear, showed how these contraceptive devices, when placed in the mouth and blown hard, could make a sound approximating that of the best dwarven "music" available at that time.

The Rivendell Trading Company, upon realising what had happened, were quick to grasp the commercial opportunities inherest in the situation, and set up a thriving export business in used contraceptive devices, which continues to this day.

The dwarves, and other bagpipe players, appear to remain unaware of the exact provenance of their instruments.

Construction of the bagpipes

Bagpipes are made from high quality Auroch's bladder, connected to bits of iron tubing with holes in it.


How to play the bagpipes

Bagpipe players claim that by covering up the various holes in the bit of iron tubing, the bagpipes can be made to produce notes of different pitch. However, anybody who has ever listened to the bagpipes knows this to be false. Bagpipes only ever play a single note. The same note. Over and over again. No change. Ever.


Can bagpipes be used as contraceptive devices?

Yes, in two ways. Firstly there are the obvious anatomical ways the bagpipes can, and have, been used. Proof that this method works can be seen in any Elvish settlement, where there are NEVER any Elvish children. None. Ever. And this isn't because Elves don't enjoy a good time, trust me.

Secondly, the sound produced by the bagpipes is inimical to feelings of sexual desire, and thus playing the bagpipes will, by its very nature, decrease the player's libido, and shrink their ... well, never mind about that. In addition, anybody who listens to the bagpipes tends to succumb to feelings of morbid depression, with a consequent severe decrease in conjugal or other intimate relations.


Can bagpipe players be rehabilitated?

No. Euthanasia is usually the best option.

And so to Rohan... er.... well... almost

How excited I was. Off to Rohan. Getting ever close to Gondor, that fabulous city of my birth and the centre of culture for the entire universe. I had on my new hat, my new shoes, my teeth were carefully brushed, I had a bath, and I had applied deodorant carefully to all my various creases.

Oh my, wasn't I just looking great? Just as well, because before I could head off to see more stinky Horse People (why don't they wash? Is it cultural? Is is laziness? But horse shit DOES wash off. Fact. So why don't they?) I got a distress call from my Gal up in Caras Laradhonshinystargoldywood.

Oh help, help she said, your previous girlfriend, the unwashed Nona of the body tattoos, is being bothersome, and we need you to nip up and help move her on.

*sigh*. Fine. OK. Whatever. I mean, my Gal is cute and all that, with those blonde tresses all flowy, but she does suffer just a bit from the curse of blondeness which is small brain size. I mean, just get rid of her yourself, Lady Gal, no big deal. Just tell her to go away. No? Fine. I'll be there.

So I nip up to ShinyGoldyWood, give my Gal a quick kiss (we'll meet again soon, say I, on our dinner date. Oh Aegthil, said she, I can hardly wait!. I know, said I, it's you and me, babe.) and take charge of babysitting Body Tattoo Nona for a while.

Well, this was bloody annoying. She wants to look all over ShinySparklyWoodGentleHaven, up the trees, down the trees, along the paths, back up the trees, back down the trees, get me a paddle, get me a boat, get me some dinner, I want a drink, I'm tired now, whine whine moan moan. Finally, we get out of there just before I finally go bonkers (too much gentle sweetness and kind, understanding intellectualism will turn anybody's stomach before long. My Fool says that Lothlorien is worse than National Public Radio in the USA. All it needs now is caring and sincere voices, reading out in gentle tones stories about poor and underprivileged yet happy Elvish children in deepest darkest Mirkwood. Oh Fool. Shut up. Just shut up.)

OK, now where was I...? Oh, right. I finally get out of the GoldenSweetyWood and down the river a bit, before bloody Nona then wants to visit somewhere else, and then check out her friend in Stangard, and then collect a bit more to eat, have a coffee, bit of a rest, at which stage I lose my rag and say Oh, Nona. Just Piss Off.

And I head off to Rohan with that short, fat little Bandoras instead. If he has body tattoos I do NOT want to know.

My Gal, the Lady Galadriel

Oh yeah, oh yeah, it looks like I'm headed for a hot date with a hot CEC. Er... should one say a hot Cute Elf Chick, or is that redundant redundancy? Good question. Who cares?!

It's me and the Lady Galadriel, baby, as long as current bidding pattern persist on the Aegthil auction. She and I are going to dine, dance, and ... well.... a gentleman never tells.

I'll have to make sure my Fool records the event for posterity, as living proof that the Queen of the Elves thinks that Aegthil of Gondor is a sex machine.

Who, in all this wide wide world, could possibly be surprised?

Goldenshowers, Celsea, Hymen, and Me.

Last night it was party time. Oh yeah, oh yeah. Some little bobbit, Goldenshowers I think her name is, was organising an event to raise money for some little babies, or something. It was all rather unclear. And then people went walking off through the woods somewhere, for no apparent reason. Weird.

It all started badly when that moron Tom Bombadil wouldn't stop his inane skipping and treehugging. Damn he's an annoying little twerp. La la la la, tripitty skippity puke. Hug a tree, recite some doggerel, and all of a sudden people think you're just fabulous. Ridiculous, if you ask me. He's got a cute wife, I'll give him that, but as for the rest... well, he's a waste of space.

Then Goldenshowers made everybody walk down to the riverbank for the concert. I mean, hullo? A riverbank?! Have you never heard about mosquitos? Hullo? Anybody home? Honestly, it's gotta be that bobbit brain size is proportional to body size. Not impressive. How can a talented musician such as myself be expected to play stupendous music while being eaten alive by the damn bugs?

Not that the rest of the band was affected, but then nobody would ever expect them to play stupendous music, would they? Nope. Right first time. Hole in one, baby, hole in one.

But hey, who cares about them? More about me!

And more about the lovely Celsea of Rohan, who stole the show and stole my heart right along with it. I think she was supposed to have a horse, because she's from Rohan, but I didn't see one. Maybe BBB ate it before the show. Barbecued horse and beer. Mmmm..... tasty. Well, moving right along, the lovely Celsea of Rohan and I danced together all night, almost arm in arm. Not quite actually arm in arm because she kept moving away for some reason, no idea why. I think maybe we were dancing on a slope or something, which would explain it. I guess she just kept sliding downhill, which was, coincidentally, in a direction away from me.

Perhaps if I'd gone around to the other side of her we could have become quite intimate.

Our romance has been immortalised for posterity by the infamous Cennwyn, whose name also begins with C but who isn't nearly as nice as the lovely Celsea. That stupendously handsome man is me, of course, and the lovely lady in the background, with a very nice blue dress, is the lovely Celsea. You can see clearly how she is looking at me with admiration shining from her eyes.

Well, of course. I can hardly be surprised.

And talking about blue dresses, there was another lady there in a blue dress, no idea who it was, but I think her name was Hymen. Pretty strange name for a lady, I suppose, or at least for any lady that I know well, but hey, there's no accounting for taste. She was visiting from foreign climes, and there were whispers going around that she's quite the celebrity. I didn't see anything great about her, to be honest, but I did catch her looking at my lovely Rose outfit with admiration.

I thought her own fashion sense left a little to be desired. I mean, her colour choice was rather dull and stodgy, kind of boring creams and poofy blues, but I guess she was pretty old. Didn't want too much excitment in her life.

If she ever needs fashion advice, she knows where to find me.