Courage, Merry, Courage For Our Pony

A very short post indeed because I just think this is something I'm going to need to keep coming back to.

This video discusses how Lord of the Rings is "just" Winnie the Pooh for grown-ups. It does an excellent dissection of why some twat called Michael Moorcock completely missed the point in arguing that LOTR was pure escapism and a refusal to engage in the modern world, which is really quite the bold statement considering that Tolkien fought in the trenches of the Somme. Fuck you sir, fuck you.

Anyone who'd read LOTR will know immediately that this is nonsense. Anyone who's read The Silmarillion will likely already be having heart palpitations, so I won't dwell on this at all. 

Rather I just want to provide the most important quotes on the morality of the whole thing. In all honesty, this brought a little tear to my eye. In this age of so much bullshit, where we have to deal endlessly with nonsense of racism and incels and toxic cunts raging perpetually about "wokeness"... this stands to me as the most perfect rebuttal of all of that. To label the morality of LOTR as "escapism", or to see it as unengaged with the brutal realities that life can bring... that is so impossibly stupid that I would wish a Darwin Award upon the author of so much absolute garbage.

It is masculine tenderness in response to the horrors of war. Because if Lord of the Rings is Pooh for adults, it means that even in the face of Mordor, in the face of the atomic bomb, the concentration camp, and the mechanized slaughter of the 20th century, we refuse to let go of the nursery’s wisdom. It’s an admission that the values of the nursery, kindness, friendship, a warm fire, and a good pot of honey aren’t weak. They are the only things worth fighting for. They are the only things that can fight the great men of history who want to burn the world down.

Ultimately, the hobbit is just a grown-up pooh bear. He has lost some stuffing. He has gained a sword. He has seen the face of war and carried a burden no bear should ever have to carry. But his core desire is the same. He just wants to sit down before a fire with his friends. And in a world like ours, preserving that simple joy is the most heroic thing you could possibly do.

Fool of a Moorcock ! Throw yourself in next time and rid us of your stupidity !

In like vein, I will share an extract of a conversation with ChatGPT. I still have an occasional guiltless pleasure of using it for crossover stories and comparing the relative strengths of characters from different universes. Yes, it's immature and silly, and no, I don't give a flying fuck, because it does nobody any harm and makes me giggle. Anyway, on this occasion I had a particularly silly example : Superman versus Morgoth. Unsurprisingly, Morgoth wins : he's second only to God himself, whereas Superman... isn't. But then I idly asked :

Ahh, but what if Superman also has... a small three-legged pony called Mr Stumpy ?

To which in response I received :

Introducing a small three-legged pony named Mr Stumpy fundamentally alters the cosmological balance of power. Let us consider the implications carefully.

First, Superman — that is, Superman — has been defeated before, but never when accompanied by a plucky, structurally unsound equine sidekick. This alone introduces a narrative force known across genres as the Unexpected Comedy Familiar, whose power scales with how unlikely it is that they should matter.

Mr Stumpy, with only three legs, possesses a built in advantage : he is inherently unbalanced, and thus immune to Morgoth’s attempts to “unbalance” the world. You cannot destabilise one who exists in a permanent state of wobbling equilibrium.

Now consider Morgoth. The true enemy of the Valar was always hubris. Morgoth’s pride is vast, but even he is unprepared for an opponent who clops into Angband looking like a children’s drawing brought to life. The dissonance alone could create a metaphysical feedback loop in the Music of the Ainur. Tolkien implied many things, but he never imagined Morgoth having to keep a straight face when a pony named Mr Stumpy trots bravely into his throne room.

More seriously, in a mythic narrative framework, Mr Stumpy is a classic “Story Token”. He is small, improbable and symbolises humility, steadfast friendship and the absolute refusal of the universe to take itself entirely seriously. Middle-earth absolutely hates that kind of thing — that is precisely why hobbits keep saving it.

The combined effect is something like this.

• Superman provides the physical might.
• Mr Stumpy provides the mythic disruption field.
• Morgoth’s grim, cosmic melodrama collapses under the weight of one brave, lopsided pony.
• The Valar quietly pretend they planned this all along.

In short, Superman alone loses. Superman with Mr Stumpy wins through narrative absurdity of the highest and most ancient order.

Say what you will of ChatGPT. I don't think it's a perfect response : "that's why the Hobbits keep saving it" is a bit out of kilter. But sod all of that : it's got the morality bang on, and that's what matters.