Uruk-Hai : People That Came Out of The Earth

To Serve in Heaven 

Or Rule in Hell..?

I don't know if you're familiar with Wagner's Ring das Nibelungen...?

Now, We - We are The Supermen, but You -

You are The Giants. 

They are wonderful creatures. 

Herr Weyland, your day is over. 

I'm afraid you fail to understand history in addition to Wagner. 

Unfortunately, Wagner must be rewritten. 

The Supermen must control The Giants. 

David, Killer of Giants

"Do you know how the Orcs first came to be? They were Elves once, taken by the Dark Lord, tortured and mutilated. A ruined and terrible form of life. And now, perfected. My fighting Uruk-hai."

—Saruman

"This is no rabble of mindless Orcs. These are the Uruk-hai, their armor thick and their shields broad..."

—Gimli

The Kurgans were an ancient people from the steppes of Russia.

For amusement, they tossed children into pits with hungry dogs to fight for meat.

The Kurgan.

He is the strongest of The Immortals.

He is the Perfect Warrior.

If he wins The Prize, mortal Man would suffer an Eternity of Darkness.

How do you fight such a savage?

Hmm. With Heart, Faith, and Steel.

In the End, There Can Be Only One.

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan: 

They think they are bears... they want us to think they are bears... 

Hey, how do you hunt a bear? 

Weath the Musician: 

Chase it down with dogs. What...? 

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan: 

How do you hunt a bear in Winter? 

Herger the Joyous: 

Go in its cave with spears. 

Ahmed Ibn Fahdlan: 

Where is a cave? 

Weath the Musician: [realizing] 

It's in The Earth. 

Edgtho the Silent: [Returns from scouting] 

The next glen, many fires. 

Buliwyf: 

IS THERE A CAVE?

There's always a Cave...

North amid their noisome pits lay the first of the great heaps and hills of slag and broken rock and blasted earth, the vomit of the maggot-folk of Mordor; but south and now near loomed the great rampart of Cirith Gorgor, and the Black Gate amidmost, and the two Towers of the Teeth tall and dark upon either side.

 I don’t take order from Orc-maggots.

  The White Man has waited all His life to be Greater than God.

There actually, is a Law invoked with alla' this, which is higher  than Man Law.

" For the people that are in this Core of Negativity,

We have accepted responsibility to put pressure on Them. 

that maybe They perceive themselves to be Goliath, but 

We are always reminding Them that David is within their reach -

We don't ever want Them to think that what They regard as so absolute, so evil, so grand, so royal, that can never be defeated contradicts The Law of what goes on.

And if We can accept the principle of

" You Reap What You Sow "

and if "Reap What You Sow" is True;

And one compiles years of ugly sowing...

Then, somewhere, The Seed is gonna come due -

Now, 

" Through Whom? " and " When? " will it manifest..?

And if you believe that it will never happen, then What You Believe has a crack in it.

Do you have faith, that when people fail in their opportunity to rule fairly and equitably that They will be robbed of that opportunity, when others who seek to be  - 

It's a dangerous word 

- Responsible -

arise to accept this responsibilty, to replace Those Who Lost Their Right to Rule..?

The Muslims say 

" An Eye for an Eye "

And the principle is sound.

Even an atheist say,

" What Go Around, Come Around "

Every Spoke on The Wheel has it's Day at The Top.

Tom O’ Bedlam

Tom o’ Bedlam

From the hag and hungry goblin

That into rags would rend ye,

The spirit that stands by the naked man

In the Book of Moons defend ye,

That of your five sound senses

You never be forsaken,

Nor wander from your selves with Tom

Abroad to beg your bacon,

While I do sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

Of thirty bare years have I

Twice twenty been enragèd,

And of forty been three times fifteen

In durance soundly cagèd

On the lordly lofts of Bedlam,

With stubble soft and dainty,

Brave bracelets strong, sweet whips ding-dong,

With wholesome hunger plenty,

And now I sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

With a thought I took for Maudlin

And a cruse of cockle pottage,

With a thing thus tall, sky bless you all,

I befell into this dotage.

I slept not since the Conquest,

Till then I never wakèd,

Till the roguish boy of love where I lay

Me found and stript me nakèd.

And now I sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

When I short have shorn my sow’s face

And swigged my horny barrel,

In an oaken inn I pound my skin

As a suit of gilt apparel;

The moon’s my constant mistress,

And the lowly owl my marrow;

The flaming drake and the night crow make

Me music to my sorrow.

While I do sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

The palsy plagues my pulses

When I prig your pigs or pullen,

Your culvers take, or matchless make

Your Chanticleer or Sullen.

When I want provant with Humphrey

I sup, and when benighted,

I repose in Paul’s with waking souls

Yet never am affrighted.

But I do sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

I know more than Apollo,

For oft, when he lies sleeping

I see the stars at bloody wars

In the wounded welkin weeping;

The moon embrace her shepherd,

And the Queen of Love her warrior,

While the first doth horn the star of morn,

And the next the heavenly Farrier.

While I do sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

The gypsies, Snap and Pedro,

Are none of Tom’s comradoes,

The punk I scorn and the cutpurse sworn,

And the roaring boy’s bravadoes.

The meek, the white, the gentle

Me handle, touch, and spare not;

But those that cross Tom Rynosseros

Do what the panther dare not.

Although I sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

With a host of furious fancies

Whereof I am commander,

With a burning spear and a horse of air,

To the wilderness I wander.

By a knight of ghosts and shadows

I summoned am to tourney

Ten leagues beyond the wide world’s end::

Methinks it is no journey.

Yet will I sing, Any food, any feeding,

Feeding, drink, or clothing;

Come dame or maid, be not afraid,

Poor Tom will injure nothing.

Aglæca/æglæca

"Until the late 1970s, all scholarship on Grendel’s mother and translations of the phrase “aglæc-wif” were influenced by the edition of noted Beowulf scholar Frederick Klaeber. His edition, Beowulf and the Fight at Finnsburg, has been considered a standard in Beowulf scholarship since its first publication in 1922. According to Klaeber’s glossary, “aglæc-wif” translates as: “wretch, or monster of a woman.” Klaeber’s glossary also defines “aglæca/æglæca” as “monster, demon, fiend” when referring to Grendel or Grendel’s mother and as “warrior, hero” when referring to the character Beowulf.

Klaeber has influenced many translations of Beowulf. Notable interpretations of “aglæc-wif” which follow Klaeber include “monstrous hell bride” (Heaney), “monster-woman” (Chickering) “woman, monster-wife” (Donaldson), “Ugly troll-lady” (Trask)  and “monstrous hag” (Kennedy).

Doreen M.E. Gillam’s 1961 essay, “The Use of the Term ‘Æglæca’ in Beowulf at Lines 893 and 2592,” explores Klaeber’s dual use of the term “aglæca/æglæca” for the heroes Sigemund and Beowulf as well as for Grendel and Grendel’s mother.

She argues that “aglæca/æglæca” is used in works besides Beowulf to reference both “devils and human beings”. She further argues that this term is used to imply “supernatural,” “unnatural” or even “inhuman” characteristics, as well as hostility towards other creatures.

Gillam suggests: “Beowulf, the champion of men against monsters, is almost inhuman himself. [Aglæca/æglæca] epitomises, in one word, the altogether exceptional nature of the dragon fight. Beowulf, the champion of good, the ‘monster’ amongst men, challenges the traditional incarnation of evil, the Dragon: æglæca meets æglæcan.”

The Myth of Anglo-Saxons

As noted in lines 105–114 and lines 1260–1267 of Beowulf, Grendel and his mother are described as descendants of the Biblical Cain.

"I hope that the praise-worthy example you have exhibited, will rouse the dormant spirit of the great and the affluent in the Principality, and induce them so to co-operate with you, that the Genius of Cambria may awake from the slumber of ages, shake off that darkness and false taste which Gothic barbarity and tyranny imposed upon her, and re-assume her ancient and splendid greatness."

- WILLIAM PROBERT

The Myth of the Anglo-Saxons is that there are Anglo-Saxons.

There were Britons, and there were Saxons.

And Saxons are German.

The Britons fight (and defeat) The Saxons

And the Saxons were Gothic, they were Un-British - they were German.

"Just don't take any class where you have to read BEOWULF."

- Woody Allen,

An Anti-German for Reasons of his own

"Historian Michael Wood returns to his first great love, the Anglo-Saxon world, to reveal the origins of our literary heritage. 
[No, it bloody isn't.]

Focusing on Beowulf and drawing on other Anglo-Saxon classics, he traces the birth of English poetry back to the Dark Ages. 

Travelling across the British Isles from East Anglia to Scotland and with the help of Nobel prize-winning poet Seamus Heaney, actor Julian Glover, local historians and enthusiasts, he brings the story and language of this iconic poem to life."

This is horrible, brutal, beastial Klingoneseque Stuff :

"Grendel grabs a second warrior, but is shocked when the warrior grabs back with fearsome strength. 

As Grendel attempts to disengage, he and the reader both discover that Beowulf is that second warrior. 

A battle ensues, with Beowulf’s warriors attempting to aid in the melee. 

Finally Beowulf tears off Grendel’s arm, mortally wounding the creature. 

Grendel flees but dies in his marsh-den. 

There, Beowulf later engages in a fierce battle with Grendel’s mother, over whom he triumphs. 

Following her death, Beowulf finds Grendel’s corpse and removes his head, which he keeps as a trophy. "

And over time, after they had gained a dominance and dominon over the Britons, and established the House of Wessex, they assimilated British Law (Molmutine Law) into their own legal code, and began calling themselves Kings of Angle-land (England).

Not Britain.

So, Don't Say "Anglo-Saxon" - Say "German"

The Story of the Welsh Dragon

The story of the Red Dragon, ‘Y Ddraig Goch’ (literally, the red dragon), that appears on the Welsh flag goes back centuries, even to before the invasion of Britain by the Saxons.

When the Celts ruled Britain, before they were driven out of England into Wales and Cornwall, there was a legend in the Mabinogion, a collection of eleven stories, that a red dragon living in Britain had begun fighting with an invading White Dragon.

As the two fought, they wounded each other, and the cries of agony from the red dragon made crops barren, killed animals and caused pregnant women to miscarry.

King Lludd, the ruler of Britain at the time, went to visit his sibling Llefelys, who was in France. He was instructed that to stop the dragons fighting, thus ending the cries that were ruining his people, he must dig a pit large enough to contain them both in the centre of Britain. 

He must then fill it with mead and cover it in cloth.

Having done this, the dragons came and drank the mead, which made them drowsy, and they fell asleep in the pit, wrapped in the cloth. Lludd imprisoned them, and in the Mabinogion, that is the end of the matter.

Later, however, in the Historia Britonum, the dragons are still trapped in the pit and cloth, and every time King Vortigern attempts to build a castle there, the walls and foundations are destroyed overnight, though nobody knows why.

Vortigern’s advisors say that to solve the problem he must find a boy without a natural father and sacrifice him. This will stop the destruction of his castle.

When this boy is found [Merlyn], and it is revealed to him that he is to be sacrificed so that Vortigern’s castle can be built, the boy says that the advisors are wrong, and that actually the destruction is occurring because of the two dragons trapped in the pit.

So, Vortigern digs open the pit, frees the two dragons, and finally the red dragon kills the white dragon. The boy pipes up again, telling Vortigern that the Red Dragon represented the people over which Vortigern ruled, whereas the white dragon represented the Saxons.

Vortigern’s people are presumed to have been the native Britons who, although they were driven by the Saxons into only Wales and Cornwall, were never completely defeated.

 They didn’t exactly slay the white dragon as they were supposed to, however.

This article was written by Tom Sangers for Snowdonia Tourist Services, who offer a Snowdonia holiday in North Wales cottages.

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/?expert=Tom_Sangers

Article Source: http://EzineArticles.com/3128436

"Until the late 1970s, all scholarship on Grendel’s mother and translations of the phrase “aglæc-wif” were influenced by the edition of noted Beowulf scholar Frederick Klaeber. His edition, Beowulf and the Fight at Finnsburg, has been considered a standard in Beowulf scholarship since its first publication in 1922. According to Klaeber’s glossary, “aglæc-wif” translates as: “wretch, or monster of a woman.” Klaeber’s glossary also defines “aglæca/æglæca” as “monster, demon, fiend” when referring to Grendel or Grendel’s mother 

and as “warrior, hero” when referring to the character Beowulf.

Klaeber has influenced many translations of Beowulf. Notable interpretations of “aglæc-wif” which follow Klaeber include “monstrous hell bride” (Heaney), “monster-woman” (Chickering) “woman, monster-wife” (Donaldson), “Ugly troll-lady” (Trask)  and “monstrous hag” (Kennedy).

Doreen M.E. Gillam’s 1961 essay, “The Use of the Term ‘Æglæca’ in Beowulf at Lines 893 and 2592,” explores Klaeber’s dual use of the term “aglæca/æglæca” for the heroes Sigemund and Beowulf as well as for Grendel and Grendel’s mother.

She argues that “aglæca/æglæca” is used in works besides Beowulf to reference both “devils and human beings”. She further argues that this term is used to imply “supernatural,” “unnatural” or even “inhuman” characteristics, as well as hostility towards other creatures.

Gillam suggests: “Beowulf, the champion of men against monsters, is almost inhuman himself. [Aglæca/æglæca] epitomises, in one word, the altogether exceptional nature of the dragon fight. Beowulf, the champion of good, the ‘monster’ amongst men, challenges the traditional incarnation of evil, the Dragon: æglæca meets æglæcan.”

To the Cymmrarodorion Society, in London.

GENTLEMEN, 

A descendant of the old Silurians presents himself before you with becoming deference, and very respectfully dedicates his translation of the Welsh Laws to your patronage. 

You, Gentlemen, have set a noble example of patriotism and of true greatness. The efforts you are making to recover the precious, literary productions of our beloved country from decay and oblivion, demand the thanks of every Welshman.

I hope that the praise-worthy example you have exhibited, will rouse the dormant spirit of the great and the affluent in the Principality, and induce them so to co-operate with you, that the Genius of Cambria may awake from the slumber of ages, shake off that darkness and false taste which Gothic barbarity and tyranny imposed upon her, and re-assume her ancient and splendid greatness.

I am,

Gentlemen,

With all due respect,

Your obedient, humble Servant,

WILLIAM PROBERT

"Just don't take any class where you have to read BEOWULF."

- Woody Allen

Assimilation : The Arthurian Dream

GABRIEL: 

They're here! They're here! 

WORF: 

Who? 

GABRIEL: 

The Klingons! 

(A group of people with varying amounts of ridges, including none.) 

BROTA: 

Q'apla. 

WORF: 

Q'apla. 

BROTA: 

We are the Sons of Mogh. 

WORF: 

You are my descendents. 

BROTA: 

Some by blood, some by choice. 

Our hearts are Klingon. 

We live as warriors, just as you taught our ancestors long ago. 

GABRIEL: 

I'm going to be one of them someday. 

I'll ride a wild torga and go hunting, and only come to the settlement to trade furs for the things I need. 

PARELL: (a human woman) 

When you're older, you'll have the chance to prove yourself. 

If you are worthy, you can take a Klingon name and live among us. 

BROTA: 

The Sons of Mogh are gathering to celebrate your return. 

It would honour us greatly if you would feast with us tonight.

WORF: 

I look forward to it. 

BROTA: 

We'll come for you at nightfall. 

BASHIR: 

Well, it would appear I'm not the only legend around here...

(Worf is by a fire.) 

PARELL: 
We came to tell you. There will be no feast tonight. 

WORF: 
I understand. This is not a time for celebration. 

BROTA: 
Tomorrow we will see the sun rise again, but no one here will see it set. 

WORF: 
Join me. There is something I wish to say. 
It is a great honour to know that my legacy has thrived on your world for so long. 
I can see the Klingon heart beats strong here. 

BROTA: 
You honour us with your words. 
We have tried to live as you taught us to. 

PARELL: 
We've never plowed fields or milked chattel. 
We've lived as warriors, hunters. 

BROTA: 
Last year, I slew a yarbear three metres tall. Your mek'leth was my only weapon. The beast maimed me, and for a time it seemed I would die from my wounds. Now I wish I had. It would have been a warrior's death. 

PARELL:
 He could have taken his place among the honoured dead in Sto'Vo'Kor. 

WORF: 
Perhaps he will yet. 

BROTA: 
No. Ceasing to exist because my parents were never born? 
That is not a death worthy of Sto'Vo'Kor. 
Kill me, Worf. I have no enemies to fight, no glory to be won. 
Give me an honourable death. 

PARELL: 
Don't make us wait for the end like farm animals waiting for slaughter. 


WORF: 
I will come to you tomorrow and do what you ask.

(Sunrise on the final day.) 

WORF: 

By sunset this will all be gone. 

DAX: 

Taking a last look around? 

(Gabriel runs through the group. Sisko grabs him.) 

SISKO: 

Whoa. Gabriel, where are you going in such a hurry? 

GABRIEL: 

To the fields. It's time for planting. 

(They walk on to where everyone is getting the young plants ready for the ground.) 

MIRANDA: 
Come on, Gabriel, there isn't much time. 
Put some of this on your face. 
The sun's strong today. 

YEDRIN: 

Planting day has always been important here. 

It brings everyone together. 

Somehow it feels right to see it through.

[Field]

(Most of our people help with the planting. Pushing a motorised hand-plough, making planting holes. Compost goes in the bottom and the plant on top. Kira is scattering seed. Miranda is handing out the rooted plants.) 

MIRANDA: 
Here's one for you. Molly, take that from the bottom. 

MOLLY: 

Aren't you going to help? 

O'BRIEN: 

I'm busy. 

MOLLY: 

You don't look busy. 

SISKO: 

She's an O'Brien, all right. Better get to it, Chief. 

(Sisko hands over his trowel. Worf and the Sons of Mogh arrived.) 

BROTA: 

You said there was an Enemy for us to fight. 

WORF: 

They are attempting to plant their fields before the sun sets. 

Time is their Enemy. 

We should help them defeat it. 

BROTA: 

Bring the others. 

(And the sun sweeps on in its course. Molly brings O'Brien a plant.) 

O'BRIEN: 

Ah, great. You know, I have a little girl named Molly, too. 

MOLLY: 

Really? Can I meet her? 

O'BRIEN: 

We'll see. 

MOLLY:

 By summer, this plant will be taller than you. After the harvested, I'll help my mother make gelm bread with it. 

WOMAN: 

Molly? 

(Molly runs off, O'Brien goes over to Sisko and Kira.) 

SISKO: 

Is something wrong? 

O'BRIEN: 

We can't do it. 

SISKO: 

What? 

O'BRIEN: 

We can't let these people die.

The Struggle

...riverrun, past Eve and Adam’s, from swerve of shore to bend of bay, brings us by a commodius vicus of recirculation back to Howth Castle and Environs.

P

The Struggle is Permanent and Eternal

From diamond mine to the factory

Everybody's doing what you've got to keep on doing for society

Make this world a good place to be

Let livin' be but don't work for free

Playing isn't paying so work is what I'm saying

Working for the world go round

The battle cry don't mess with me

I've traveled the world for eternity

Warriors of the wasteland

Sailboats of ice on desert sands

Warriors of the wasteland

It seems to me that the powers that be

Keep themselves in splendour and security

Armoured cars for Megastars

No streets, no bars, Your Wealth is ours

They make the masses, kiss their assets

Lower class jackass, pay me tax take out the trash

Working for the world go round

Your job is Gold, do as you're told

They pay you less then run for Congress

Warriors of the Wasteland

Sailboats of ice on desert sands

Warriors - what a Waste, man

I'm working for The World go round, go round

Diamond mine to the factory, yeah

Make this a world, a good place to be

Warriors - what a waste, man

Warriors

We're rats in a cage

Suicide a go go

The Struggle Continues.

A lone a last a loved a long the...