prokopetz:

prokopetz:

Concept: protagonist becomes embroiled in a series of high-stakes underground deathmatches of something that isn’t even illegal, like for some reason there’s a dark-web competitive cooking show. None of the ingredients are horrifying or even particularly unethical, but it’s still treated as this huge transgression with dire consequences for failure.

The cutthroat world of underground competitive cat shows.

Dark-web lumberjack challenges.

Gardening, and God help you if the judges don’t approve of your marigolds, because no Earthly force will.


Tags:

#story ideas I will never write #food #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog

sponge-eating-goblin:

I really hope the Amazon show picks a side in the Gil-Gadad debate. Just for the drama. I think it will be funny to watch.

 

hamelin-born:

It will set a thousand invented fans screaming and re-launch the Infamous Debates. 

 

hamelin-born:

#gil galad#rings of power#lotr#silmarillion#wait someone break it down for those of us who haven’t read silm

Keeping in mind that I am a semi-casual Tolkien fan and will almost certainly get a few things wrong, here is my summary of The Gil-Galad Debate. 

…please forgive me for the long post, this is my soapbox and I really feel like exposition at the moment.

Gil-Galad is referenced in JRR Tolkien’s *The Lord of the Rings* series as “the last of the great Elf-kings of Middle Earth”, who was in charge of the elvish forces during the Last Alliances of Elves and Men and was killed by Sauron. This is accurate, but not the entirety of his background as described in The Silmarillion

Gil-Galad was the last High King of the Noldor in Exile in Middle Earth, the Noldor being essentially a subethnicity of elves, many of whom left Valinor (aka the Blessed Realm) and headed to Middle Earth for various reasons it would take a much longer post to explore in full. (It is interesting to note that this group does not include the Wood-Elves, who were never in Valinor to begin with – their own High King was historically someone else entirely. No, it wasn’t Thranduil, and yes, said someone else was long dead by the events of LOTR.)  

Historically, the first High King of All The Noldor Everywhere was an elf called Finwe. The Kingship, descending as it apparently did via agnatic primogeniture (meaning, according to wiki, ‘determined by tracing shared descent from the nearest common ancestor through male ancestors’) means that all of the High Kings of the Noldor, in Exile or not, presumably back their claim to the throne via relationship to Finwe. 

Meaning that Gil-Galad has to be related to Finwe in some way for his claim to hold. Got that? Good, because here’s where it gets complicated. 

Here’s where we break the fourth wall and consider the Tolkiens – both JRR himself, and his son, Christopher Tolkien, who spent a good portion if not all of his life working with his father’s unpublished materials. 

The issue regarding Gil-Galad is that canonically we do not know who his parents are. JRR Tolkien apparently listed Gil-Galad’s father as at least four separate elves in various drafts/unpublished materials, and never came to a definite conclusion about exactly how GG was related to Finwe. We think his final decision might have been that his father was an Elf named Orodreth (who himself had at least two separate fathers listed!) but we’re not sure. When Christopher Tolkien cleaned up and published his father’s drafts in The Silmarillion, he apparently chose a different elf (an elf named Fingon) to be Gil-Galad’s ‘definite’ father, adding some background material to make it work. HOWEVER. 

Christopher Tolkien himself said that “ this decision to make Gil-galad a son of Fingon was an editorial mistake on his part, and did not represent his father’s conception of the character. He suggested that it would have been better to have left Gil-galad’s parentage obscure.”

Christopher Tolkien said that. 

This means, of course, that the fandom has been arguing over just who Gil-Galad’s father was – and who the elf-king himself was – pretty much ever since the Silmarillion came out. The fandom has taken every single interpretation you can imagine and run with it – all four of the elves Tolkien considered making his father, plus a number of other options. Was his father Sauron?  There’s fic for that. Was his father a background character who shows up in precisely one page of the Silmarillion only to be subsequently killed off? There’s fic for that, and entire online essays defending said options. Was he a time-traveling elf from the future? At least one good fic. 

Much more amusing, in my opinion, are the stories where, in-universe, no-one knows exactly how Gil-Galad is related to the line of Finwe. 

So. That’s my summary of ‘The Gil-Galad Debate’.

In my humble opinion, whatever option Amazon picks, it’s going to be debated and subsequently disputed by a large number of, if not the entire, fandom. 

 

sweetteaanddragons:

Potential fathers for Gil-Galad from Tolkien’s drafts include:

1. As Hamelin-born mentioned, Orodreth. Orodreth has the advantage of definitely having had a living wife on the same continent as him at the same time as Gil-Galad first appeared on the scene. This would make him a really appealing candidate except (a) Tolkien fans really enjoy this mystery, (b) while this would put Gil-Galad in line for the throne, it would arguably mean he was not next in line at the time he became king, and © Orodreth is … probably not the most popular descendant of Finwe. Which is a little unfair to him, considering what some of the others got up to, but there it is.

2. As Hamelin-born also mentioned, Fingon! The pro side to this is that if Gil-Galad is Fingon’s son, he is next in line for the throne when becomes king. The downsides with this from the fandom’s general views are (a) Christopher Tolkien’s comments, and (b) Fingon being married would interfere with one of the more popular Silm ships.

3. Finrod! Two big problems here: Not only does this renew the inheritance issues, it also introduces a new problem. Namely, Finrod is very much engaged to a woman that is very much not on the same continent as him at the time Gil-Galad is born.

4. Son of Feanor, unspecified. There are absolutely no problems with this theory. None whatsoever. 

I mean, it creates an entirely new and different wrinkle in the inheritance debate thanks to Maedhros’s abdication, raises several questions about exactly what string of events led to Gil-Galad being king, and was from an earlier almost certainly rejected draft of Tolkien’s writings, but I don’t care because it’s so much fun to play with.

Other theories worth mentioning!

– @cycas’s theory of Lalwen/Cirdan. This has the advantage of actually identifying Gil-Galad’s mother, a feature most theories decidedly lack.

– Dior/Nimloth – the theory here being that Gil-Galad is one of their twin boys who were lost in the woods after their city fell and who were never seen again. This theory has the advantage of making something in the Silm marginally less awful and the additional advantage of Thingol presumably rolling in his grave.

– Orodreth/his wife, except Gil-Galad isn’t an additional child they had, Gil-Galad is their canonical daughter Finduilas. Canonically, Finduilas died horribly, but that’s no reason we can’t theorize that she decided to fake her own death and return to rule the Noldor.

– Some random dude who got hypnotized by a dragon into believing he was the rightful king of the Noldor. The Noldor, being short on kings at the time, ran with this.

I feel an obligation to note that this last theory, unlike the others, does not have a sizable faction behind it in the fandom. I just like it.

– And many, many more. There are so many theories about his parentage. So many. 

I kind of want to come up with as many crazy ones as possible before the new series comes out just in case it somehow manages to finally bring an end to the debate.

 

erai-crabantaure:

tags via @goldenvoicedminstrel​

#gil galad just being a random dude with a fancy name who was too awkward to correct someone’s assumption he must be in line for the throne#and then just rolling with it because it really is too late to back out now#*i don’t know why everone thinks i’m the rightful king of the noldor and at this point I’m too afraid to ask*#gil galad


Tags:

#thank you Silmarillion side of Tumblr #Middle Earth #meta #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog

whumpster-fire:

prokopetz:

If you’re describing a thing as being the size of another thing and you need to qualify the size of the thing in order to convey the size of the thing, it’s a bad thing to compare the thing to. “It was the size of a small—” no. Find a thing that’s the same size as the thing.

“Listen Dale, I’m telling you this thing was the size of a goddamn house! I mean, not like a big house, not mansion-sized, but definitely a modest single-family bungalow… okay fine, yeah Bill, maybe more like a large garden shed, but come on, that’s a pretty big garden shed dude. Stop trying to steal my thunder man. Let’s go with… a small garage. Single car, but with a little extra space for the lawn mower.”

“It was the size of a small cement mixer. Not like the truck, I mean the little ones with the handcart bases. But, you know, that’s still well outside the realm of okay sizes for a spider.”

“The blast affected an area the size of a small country… no, not the Vatican City, smartass. Or one of those really tiny island countries. Not a little city state, I mean big enough to be called a country out of more than courtesy. But one of those small countries that the news always compares to Rhode Island if it ever gets mentioned.

…Why don’t I just compare it to Rhode Island? Because Rhode Islands aren’t a SI unit of area measurement, that’s why! I’m trying to combat Americentrism here!”

“It was about as big as a small freight train. Not a short regular-gauge freight train, mind you. A narrow-gauge freight train. Maybe like 2 ft gauge, 2 ft-6? I dunno, I ain’t no railroad expert, or a giant death worm expert for that matter.

“It was about as big as a small freight train. HO Scale to be precise.”

“It was about as long as a small breadbox. I’m talkin’ a one-loafer max, Joey, no baguettes. You’d have to saw a baguette in half to fit it in the damn thing.”

“It was as long as a short yardstick. Whaddya mean what’s a short yardstick, you went to Catholic School too didn’t ya? After the nun smacks ya with it enough you got a short yardstick!”

“It was the size of a small bobcat. No, no, I mean the animal, not the piece of construction equipment. Jesus, can you even imagine that? I’m telling you if it were the size of a skid-steer loader I wouldn’t be standing here arguing with you about it.”

“It was the size of a small moose. But you know, moose are a lot bigger than most people think they are. So picture about how big you think an average moose is, and you’ll be pretty close.”

“It was the size of what $1200 a month gets you in New York these days.”


Tags:

#I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #fun with loopholes #overly literal interpretations #spiders

charlesoberonn:

Holiday greetings. It is I, Winston George Higgensbooth Sr., real estate tycoon and hater of children and Christmas cookies… or at least that’s what the perky soap-opera star who runs the corner cocoa shop has been telling everyone on Main Street in this close-minded, glitter-choked, fabric-snow-stuffed Hallmark movie town.

In reality, I’ve decked many a hall and “fa”ed many a “la.” My wife used to make incredible gingerbread cookies, which I would mold and shape into staggering gingerbread houses and—better yet—gingerbread multi-family properties.

So why am I a villain? Oh, right, because I believe the most valuable commercial space in town could be used for something more vital than a store solely dedicated to Santa hats. Yeah, I do believe that, and you know what else? I think the growing and diverse community of Pine Creek or Snowy River or whatever-the-fuck would be better served by a thriving city center than a free-standing, dilapidated toy shop.

After spending a few days in this community with my son—who, incidentally, is falling in love with the owner of said toy shop—I feel even more dedicated to my efforts. That toy shop owner barely even opens her business on a normal day. Most afternoons, she’s visiting tree farms and baking sugar cookies with my son. Yesterday they had a snowball fight and nearly kissed in the gazebo. Cool job, lady, but the rest of us have a living to make.

I intend to build a five-story mixed-use complex in the middle of town, thereby making the city center more prosperous and accessible while relieving our strained housing market. But these NIMBY cocoa-snorters would rather that space be used for their favorite Christmas tree lot. Well, sorry kids, there are eleven other months in a year, and people need homes to live in.

Before I was made a widower (in a family tragedy some townspeople cruelly dismiss as my “backstory”), my wife would remind me not to lose sight of the reason for the season. And I agree. Joy, cheer, and togetherness are all very important, but lest we forget on that blessed Christmas night referenced in our carols, baby Jesus needed a room, and the town DIDN’T HAVE ONE.

So screw every single one of you reindeer-clad, ornament-obsessed weirdos who forbid progress because your one month of traditions are more important than creating affordable housing and a functional local economy for everyone year-round. Fuck the cocoa shop lady, and the Santa hat store manager, and that toy store chick. I don’t care how happy she makes my son. She’s a fascistic yuletide narcissist. The only way to solve this housing crisis is to build more ho-ho-ho-HOMES. And no climactic town square singing or Jingle Bell Ball buffoonery will convince me otherwise. Not this time.

I’m buying every Christmas inn from here to Sleighbell Springs and filling them up with families before you can say “auld lang syne.” If that makes me a villain, then I, Winston George Higgensbooth Sr., cordially invite you to kiss my fat, furry, sugarplum ass.


Tags:

#I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog #storytime #Christmas #this probably deserves some other warning tag but I am not sure what

meu-meu-kissy-ceutie:

readerofthewilderwest:

worddevourer:

writing-prompt-s:

You were born of a sacrilegious union. Your green dragon mom never figured the knight she seduced while masquerading as a noblewoman was a silver dragon in disguise. You’d no idea either, born a human orphan. When your dragon blood awoke, so did the dangers which all your heritage entails.

“I was born half dragon.”

“Oh shit, what’s the other half?”

“Different dragon.

#“i’m two halfs dragon” “that’s just being a whole dragon” “no”

“im two halves dragon” “thats just being a whole dragon” “YOUD FUCKING THINK SO WOULDNT YOU”


Tags:

#dragons #story ideas I will never write #I didn’t actually laugh aloud but it still amused me enough to reblog