So... as an explanation for the title, let's say The Devas are already lit up like a Christmas tree so... they don't need material intoxicants. Now... where was I yet to be?
J.R.R. Tolkien... was brilliant, inspired... and now dead. Or... he was dead or... gone... if you prefer. I don't know what he's up to now. I didn't know the larger part of what he was up to... while he was here. I am a simple appreciator of his work. This does not seem to be true about the people involved in this latest, whatever it is... that should have been labeled, “The Rings of Impotence and Incoherence.” Perhaps Incontinence would also apply... and... since larger titles are my provenance, well... you had to be there.
Money isn't talking here, it swears at you and laughs in your face. Daddy Warbucks paid about a billion dollars to ruin the backstory of The Lord of the Rings. I don't know how many transgenders it has, but there has to be more than a six-pack of wannabees, and a cast of many alternative perversions. This... is what... happens... to fame and the works of man. People without brains and culture piss on your legacy, so... why be famous?
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