Understanding The Lord of the Rings

Ambush by Justin Gerard.

Right now (with a brief diversion into REH for his 120th) it's all Lord of the Rings, all the time.

Last weekend I took my daughters to see Fellowship of the Ring and The Two Towers. Today we conclude the film trilogy with a viewing of Return of the King. I was able to switch the show date from tomorrow to avoid the incoming snowpocalypse. 

(It is starting to feel like The Long Winter. Wolves are at the door).

Besides the films I'm also re-reading LOTR. Which as always is an experience like no other. 

Here's a few thoughts after finishing The Council of Elrond.

***

The Lord of the Rings is a story of roots, and places.

It’s an origin story for people, from whence we came, in our mythic past. Because Middle-earth is our earth.

It is an expression of deep sadness for that which is lost, with the march of time and “progress.”

It is a moral tale, with maps of ethical behavior evinced by its characters. Some of these are loyalty, perseverance, charity, mercy.

Sauron is off-screen, a dark and sinister menace, and evil. His chief power is not in projected force (though he has that in orcs and wargs) but in domination. His chief tool is despair. The Ringwraiths’ power is in the paralyzing fear they instill. 

So therefore it is the rejection of domination and despair through perseverance and mercy that are the keys to understanding Tolkien’s moral framework.

It is an affirmation of the divine order of the universe, that there is a maker. That evil was there almost at the beginning. Iluvatar created angelic beings in his image with free will and Melkor rejected the offered order. From him came evil. But ultimately the universe is good, that there is light and high beauty forever beyond the reach of Melkor/Sauron and the shadow. 

These themes are the true magic of the story, IMO… and then there is the Lore. Which is awesome, and also magic, and intimately related to the themes. 

The Lore is the great family trees, the great Ages of history, the great stories of the past.

In Fellowship we learn about Beren and Luthien, the love of a man and elf-maiden. A man who dared to pluck from Silmaril from the crown of Melkor to win her hand (and lose his). With Beren dying in her arms Luthien chooses mortality, and the two meet again, after death--incredible. 

And from their union a line that shall never fail. 

They had a son, Dior, who sired Elwing the White, who marries Earendil, and from him Elrond and Elros.

And from Elros the Kings of Numenor, all the way down to Aragorn.

People and place and lineage, back to the beginning.

This union of theme and lore, married to a gripping adventure story, is the holy trinity and why it is the greatest work of fantasy of all time.

Tom Barber memoir, LOTR 25th, and more

A self-portrait from Tom's wild days in the west...

Tom Barber’s Artists, Outlaws & Old Timers

My friend Tom Barber has a memoir on the market.

Artists, Outlaws & Old-Timers: The (sometimes hazy) recollections of a wandering artist is the compelling story of Tom’s years out west, when he was living life on the edge as a penniless artist in the throes of alcoholism. It’s a personal, reflective story of a unique soul and a talented painter whose work graced many sword-and-sorcery and science fiction paperback and magazine covers in the 70s and 80s (and later, Flame and Crimson).

Best of all the book is loaded with Tom’s art, full color and black and white illustrations and photographs which accompany the story. More than 60, I believe, including stuff you’ve never seen elsewhere. 

I am pleased to help Tom bring this to fruition. I’ve never published a book through Kindle Direct Publishing but was able to get Tom’s manuscript through to the finish line. Due to the visuals we chose the highest quality print, which makes the price point higher. But I don’t think you’ll be disappointed. 

It’s also available as an affordable e-book.

Why read it?

If you are a fan of Tom’s artwork, or enjoy getting a look into how other unique souls lived their life, consider picking it up. If you know anyone who struggled with alcohol addiction this will resonate. And, Tom could use the support.

Much more to come on this. I’ll be writing some pieces here, the blog of DMR Books and elsewhere.

LOTR 25th anniversary on the doorstep

Twenty-five years ago I saw The Fellowship of the Ring on opening night on the big screen. I was so blown away I returned to see it again a month or so later, determined to catch it one more time before it left the theaters. This was before streaming and I had no idea when I’d get the chance to watch it next.

I can’t think of another time I’ve ever watched a movie in the theater twice. Maybe Return of the Jedi as a kid? Certainly never as an adult. Although a few years ago I did see Maverick twice, with two different sets of people. 

In two days I’ll be (there and) back again, with my oldest daughter Hannah who was not even alive when Fellowship came out. Same theater too. I can’t wait.

It will be a very Lord of the Rings weekend. On Saturday night we’ll return to see The Two Towers. Then wait a week for Return of the King next Sunday, Jan. 25th. 

I love these films. Not unreservedly, but I believe they preserve the core of the books, even if they diverge in ways both large and small. The amount of care and attention Peter Jackson and his crew put into them is absolutely staggering, they are beautiful, incredibly well-acted and scored, and they deservedly remain revered. I’ve heard differing opinions from some Tolkien fans, but it’s hard to argue with 11 Academy Awards for ROTK alone, Rotten Tomatoes scores well over the 90th percentile, and the example of Rings of Power to know what could have been, in the wrong hands. If your minimum standard is as good as Tolkien you’ll never be happy; his works were the vision of a genius whose like has never been seen before or since, and the odds of us having another JRRT are effectively zero. Tom Shippey thought the movies were great, with reservations, and that’s where I stand. Bring them on.

My stereo rocks

After years and years of tinny TV speakers I had forgotten what a movie could and should sound like. On Sunday I hooked up my Boston Acoustics speakers and Yamaha receiver to an improved DVD/CD player and proceeded to watch a bit of KISS eXposed, a faux 1987 “documentary” of the band at their KISS mansion. It sounded awesome. The chicks were hot.

My new/old stereo rocks. So glad this is now part of my sword-and-sorcery man-cave.

The Silver Key: 2025 in review

T-800s like it here... but people too.

Traffic to the blog EXPLODED in 2025.

Unfortunately some of it appears to be robots, likely using my posts to train LLMs. But robots are only part of the story. There are also a lot of fine folks who seem to like what I have to say here on the Silver Key. Lots of returning visitors, lots of comments. For which I remain very grateful.

I’ve got a lot to be grateful for on the writing front in 2025.

2026 will be the year of my heavy metal memoir. I spent a lot of time working on it behind the scenes. I shared it with three readers who appear in it and have taken their advice into consideration. Made a few changes. Re-read it after 3 months and rewrote quite a bit.  

The writing is done, I can’t make it any better nor tell the story I want to tell any more effectively. Next will be editing and cover design.

I’m in the process of helping my friend Tom Barber publish his memoir via Kindle Direct Publishing. I can’t wait to share more details about Tom’s book, which details the depths of his alcohol addiction, his travels out west, all lavishly illustrated with his own artwork. 

KDP is pretty easy to use and I’m near certain I will be using the same platform for my book.

It was a productive year for me on The Silver Key. This post is my 89th, the most I’ve published in a year since 2022, and my fourth highest annual output all-time. And as noted, traffic went through the roof.

People are somehow still visiting this archaic corner of cyberspace. As of this writing (Saturday, Dec. 20) I’ve had 71,000 views in 2025, up from 45,000 in 2024 and 29,000 in 2023. I expected to see traffic decline as folks use AI to find answers or information without going out to websites, but that’s not the case here.

I published broadly on heavy metal, sword-and-sorcery, reading trends, Arthuriana, and the war for our attention. All topics that interest me. All seemed to resonate.

My most popular post by far was a guest blogger writing about Rob Zombie.

Let’s take a look at the 20 most popular posts of 2025.

1. An interesting personal insight into Moorcock’s inspirations (733 views). I learned something new about the author of Elric and Corum during this podcast interview—his father left the family when Moorcock was quite young, and the experience left him with abandonment issues and separation anxiety. Could this have been a formative influence on his writing?
2. Celtic Adventures wrapup and on into Cimmerian September (760 views). I’ve read 40 books in 2025 including DMR’s Celtic Adventures. Highly recommend this title, if for nothing else than John Barnett’s “Grana, Queen of Battle.” A unbelievably cracking good bit of historical adventure written in 1913.
3. Rest in Peace James Silke (775 views). The author of the Death Dealer series left us in February, age 93. That reminds me I need to read and review book 4, Plague of Knives. As I’ve noted these are so bad they cross back over to good territory.
4. We're living in an outrage machine (776 views). I’m not a conspiracy theorist but I can say with certainty that most of the problems we have are not as large and certainly not apocalyptic as you’ve been led to believe by the media. Rather, your attention is monetized and fear and outrage sells.
5. The Empress of Dreams—an (overdue) appreciation of Tanith Lee (776 views). I’ve never given Tanith Lee her just due and this collection from DMR books reminds me I need to read more of her stuff. Master stylist and atmosphere-ist.
6. Rest in Peace, Howard Andrew Jones (783 views). Sad and terrible news about HAJ, who was taken from us far too early. His works will endure.
7. The Ring of the Nibelung/Roy Thomas and Gil Kane (791 views). I’m glad I picked up this wonderful graphic novel by a pair of comic book greats. Recommended as an easily digestible entry point to Richard Wagner’s classic opera.
8. Of pastiche and John C. Hocking’s Conan and the Living Plague (797 views). Anything I write about Conan or Robert E. Howard performs well. This is one of the better pastiches I’ve read, and here I weigh in on John C. Hocking’s book and what I like to see in pastiches in general.
9. Knightriders, a review (817 views). As a fan of all things King Arthur I can’t believe I’ve never watched this odd little film about modern “knights” on motorcycle horseback. Quirky and flawed but unique and recommended.
10. Cold Sweat, Thin Lizzy (855 views). I continue to say that Thin Lizzy has been unfairly pigeonholed as a one hit wonder. Forget The Boys are Back in Town, listen to Cold Sweat. It rocks.
11. Revisiting H.P. Lovecraft's "The Silver Key" (927 views). Wherein I revisit the story that gave this blog its name. There is no cause to value material fact over the content of our dreams. 
12. The Acts of King Arthur and His Noble Knights by John Steinbeck, a review (1033 views). I finally got around to reading Steinbeck’s treatment of the Athurian myth. Sadly unfinished but definitely worth reading.
13. Goodbye to Romance: Reflections on Black Sabbath, Back to the Beginning, and the end of the road (1036 views). Another sad loss this year; the death of Ozzy Osbourne and the end of the first heavy metal band. Am waiting on the release of their final concert on DVD.
14. Robert E. Howard, The Life and Times of a Texas Author (1039 views). Kudos to my friend Will Oliver on writing what may well prove to be the definitive biography of Robert E. Howard. A heroic amount of research. Pick this one up.
15. Martin Eden (1909), Jack London 1083 views. Speaking of Robert E. Howard, this great story by the great Jack London contains many striking parallels to his life. It's an incredibly powerful book on its own merits.
16. Reading is in trouble … what are we going to do about it? (1084 views). Reading is in serious decline and it saddens me. I don’t want to live in a world where we have no attention span and consume content no longer than Tweets and short-form video, though that is on our doorstep. Keep reading, and read to your children.
17. Paper books are better than digital: Five reasons why (1085 views). I’m still a paper-only reader, don’t even own a kindle. One day that may change… but it is not this day.
18. Bruce Dickinson at the House of Blues, Boston MA Sept. 11, 2025 (1182 views): Fantastic concert by the seemingly ageless singer of Iron Maiden, whom I had ever seen perform solo until this fall. Tears of the Dragon nearly brought me to tears.
19. Disconnect (1423 views). The best remedy for many of the above ills is to take a technology detox (except for coming to the Silver Key). Also RIP Robert Redford.
20. Celebrating Rob Zombie, graphic artist, at sixty (4,529 views)  Guest poster Deuce Richardson stole my thunder with the biggest runaway post of the year. Why did this one outperform? Its well written, about a famous performer … but I also suspect it’s because Deuce had me include so many images of Rob's art. These show up in searches and drive traffic. Something for me to consider in my own posts. Either way, nice job Deuce.

***

Anyway, if you’ve gotten this far thanks for reading the blog, today and all year long. I always welcome your comments and suggestions. 

Merry Christmas and I wish you a very fine 2026.

Create for the sake of creating, algorithm be damned; plus 3 cool things

Some of the YouTube creators I follow have all voiced a similar lament in the past few weeks.

Views are plunging. Old video types they used to make and reliably get 60-80K views are now getting 10-20K views, and past 20K view types of posts have fallen to 3-5K.

This is not just one type of creator, which might indicate the falling from favor of a certain style of music or literature or pop culture property. Its creators across the board.

It’s Sea of Tranquility, who talks about mostly old-school heavy metal. 

It’s Dungeon Craft, who covers the RPG scene and offers DM advice and campaign recaps.

It’s Men of the West, who covers all things J.R.R. Tolkien and Tolkien spinoffs in depth.

And it’s Mike’s Book Reviews, a popular fantasy and horror booktuber (I’m struggling at the moment to find a representative video, but he’s said the same thing). 

All of these creators have well over 100K subscribers, but these days are getting only a fraction of views compared to their number of followers. The general trend of their viewership is downward. They make money off of the platform and its impacting their livelihood.

These guys attribute it to several things. More competition. AI slop videos. Their own creativity hitting a wall. But mainly, the algorithm. YouTube and other platforms have shifted to a model where a post’s performance in its first hour of being published more or less determines its future. 

If channel subscribers click on a new post in high numbers, other channel subscribers see it. If they click in volume, YouTube promotes the video to non-subscribers/general YT viewers. And if they click on it in volume, there is a chance it could go viral. This is the "golden hour."

YouTube is hoping big posts occur because it creates more buzz for the platform, more eyeballs, and more revenue.

But in this algorithm unless you hit the exact bullseye your views plunge, and fast. Youtube is not incentivized to push decent mid-range creator content to a captive audience, it is incentivized to grow. So the trend favors videos about controversy, and negativity, posts that people click on with the same primitive urges that they do when driving past a car wreck. And old, evergreen content gets completely ignored.

Some of these creators are questioning the future health of their channels and whether they might have to rethink their approach to content, if they continue at all.

I greatly sympathize with creators; algorithms suck, they promote negativity and controversy. Competition is fierce enough without machine slop and AI-fueled human slop shovelers. Many of the YouTube videos I’ve been recommended by the mysterious algorithm are creators reading obvious ChatGPT generated scripts. I know the sound of that language very well; I’ve seen folks in or near my circles using it. It’s embarrassing and disappointing.

I have little else to add save to offer words of encouragement to these true creators, and others, everywhere: Keep going for the love of the game, if nothing else. I have never attempted to monetize this blog, I create because I want to. I realize that’s easy for me to say, a privilege; this is not my job. But I also know that we have zero control over algorithms. Trying to master them is a fool's errand, like trying to win at Monopoly when you don't know the rules and the currency changes without warning. All you can do is keep going with your best and trust that folks like me and others will find you.

Anyway, there’s that. Then there’s three things I want to mention that will probably be of interest to readers of this blog.

1. 25th anniversary re-release of The Lord of the Rings films in theaters in January. It’s hard to believe it’s been 25 years since Fellowship (I was there, Gandalf…. I was there, 25 years ago) but here we are. These are the extended versions, as God intended.

I’m going of course. And bringing my daughters, having bought them “surprise” tickets to open Christmas morning. They kind of know about this already and they don’t really read this blog so I’m OK mentioning it here. I can’t wait to see the films again on the big screen. Yes, the books are better but these remain absolute works of art and (near) peak cinema. We're watching Fellowship on a Friday, TTT on Saturday, and ROTK the following Sunday (we'll need a week in between to regain our stamina).

2. Speaking of Tolkien, scholar and professor Michael D.C. Drout has a new scholarly tome out on JRRT, The Tower and the Ruin: J.R.R. Tolkien's Creation.  The Prancing Pony Podcast recently hosted Drout for a fine bit of conversation centered around his book. I’m sure I will order it. I used to follow Drout’s Wormtongue and Slugspeak blog when he was keeping it up, and his essay  “Reflections on Thirty Years of Reading The Silmarillion” remains an old favorite. 

3. This fun podcast episode about Karl Edward Wagner’s Bloodstone. I’ve never listened to Bad Books for Bad People before and I’m not certain this episode will cause me to subscribe, but the two hosts gave a fun, comprehensive analysis of the plot (spoilers but I’m assuming you’ve read it) and seemed to enjoy the hell out of the story, even evaluating it in within grimdark/sword-and-sorcery/sword-and-planet contexts. A lot of laughter and some good-natured mockery, so if this is the type of thing that gets your panties in a bunch, or if you’re one of those obnoxious types guarding the sacred gates of KEW fandom, then skip it. Otherwise I recommend it because there is so little KEW conversation to be found on the web.

The Call of Halloween

Carved Sunday, ready to light up the night...

Halloween always has been and still remains my favorite holiday. Christmas gives it a hell of a run but ultimately loses to Samhain.

Why?

There are zero expectations with Halloween. No dinner parties to host. No gift-giving or spending inordinate amounts of money. I would like to spend more on candy but we get no more than 20 kids visiting our home, located on a relatively isolated cul-de-sac. So I’m "forced" to eat the candy we annually overbuy.

Horror is celebrated. The weird is celebrated. Being weird is welcomed, for at least one day a year.

You can put on a costume and become someone else.

I always find myself experiencing a familiar stir about mid-September: The call to horror. I read a lot—though not as much as I’d like—and one secret to reading is cutting out television. But on Halloween I always up my movie quotient with the macabre.

As mentioned I watched Black Sabbath. I watched the old 1979 ‘Salem’s Lot. A recent film, Oculus (2013).

Last night I watched Captain Kronos: Vampire Hunter. 

I loved it. I’ve never seen this one before, based on the title I assumed it was going to be wildly over the top, like the Rocky Horror Picture Show. It was over the top… but 70s British reserved, slow-paced by our modern standards, over the top. Very Hammer, gothic, moody, fun, and sexy. Caroline Munro is a smoke show.

I loved the non-formula, the awkwardness, even the objective spots of poor film-making, because it’s blessedly different. The vampire formula is tweaked a bit, with the blood suckers leaving their victims an aged husk, beautiful young women reduced to corpses of crones. It’s got some great sword-fighting, an interesting sword-and-sorcery/Solomon Kane-esque protagonist with a fun hunchback sidekick. And some well-placed humor, including this sexually charged quip delivered with an over-the-top non-nuance that had me laughing out loud. Forgive the poor quality.

I’m reading horror too, Stephen King’s Cujo. A classic monster story of a harmless Saint Bernard gone mad after a bat bite on the snout infects him with rabies. I haven’t read this one since I was probably, oh, 13 or so? So while I know the basic beats, it feels new to me. I had forgotten about Donna Trenton’s affair, and to King’s credit this adds a complexity I hadn’t seen before. I think Cujo and the monster in the closet are symbols of the monster in us, something terrible that can be awakened in the right (i.e., wrong) circumstance. Tad can sense something in his wrong in his idyllic home that he can’t articulate.

I love decorating for Halloween, too.

I added a new skeleton to my front porch this year, given life with a black cloak and a shepherd hook. Hanging there beside the stairs it might touch your arm with a bony finger as you ascend the stairs … or maybe that was the wind.

I carved jack-o-lanterns with my daughter on Sunday. At age 23 she still maintains the tradition of humoring her old man, though I know she enjoys it. And it keeps away the evil spirits when the veil is at its thinnest.

I cannot express how much joy this brings me and how lucky I am to have a loving family.

I’ve got Hannah reading Pet Sematary. She is a budding horror aficionado who insisted I watch The Haunting of Hill House TV series earlier this year. I think it was started by her teenage obsession with Stranger Things, another show she encouraged me to watch (and I enjoyed; more on that here).

Hannah was later inspired to read Shirley Jackson’s novel and now I’ve given her the gift of her first King. Maybe movies can inspire readers, though she’s always been one.

We can read horror any time we want, we can recommend films and books on any given Tuesday, but Halloween gives me an excuse. And I love it. 

I will break out some Poe, the master, before and/or on Halloween itself. Until then here’s one of my favorites.

Annabel Lee

It was many and many a year ago,

In a kingdom by the sea

That a maiden there lived whom you may know

By the name of Annabel Lee--

And this maiden she lived with no other thought

Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,

In this kingdom by the sea,

But we loved with a love that was more than love--

I and my Annabel Lee--

With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven

Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,

In this kingdom by the sea,

A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling

My beautiful Annabel Lee;

So that her highborn kinsmen came

And bore her away from me,

To shut her up in a sepulchre

In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,

Went envying her and me--

Yes!--that was the reason (as all men know,

In this kingdom by the sea)

That the wind came out of the cloud by night,

Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love

Of those who were older than we--

Of many far wiser than we--

And neither the angels in heaven above,

Nor the demons down under the sea,

Can ever dissever my soul from the soul

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

For the moon never beams, without bringing me dreams

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

And the stars never rise, but I feel the bright eyes

Of the beautiful Annabel Lee:

And so, all the night-tide, I lay down by the side

Of my darling--my darling--my life and my bride,

In the sepulchre there by the sea--

In her tomb by the sounding sea.

Of Black Sabbath (film) and Ace Frehley

With the Halloween season upon us I had the urge last night to settle in and watch some horror. I spent the better part of 10 minutes scrolling through hundreds of titles on demand before landing on Black Sabbath (1964).

I like modern horror but my preference is the older stuff. Not so much the classic black and white Lon Cheney films, but rather 60-80s, Hammer and on up. I enjoy the slow pace, the gothic visuals, the garish colors, the practical special effects and real props. Black Sabbath had it all thanks to the talents of director Mario Bava.

This turned out to be a pretty good little trilogy of films wrapped up in one production, woven together with Boris Karloff as narrator. I love Creepshow and Tales from the Crypt and their ilk, in collections of shorts you’ll often find more creativity, unexpected twists and bad ends often not possible in a feature length film.

Black Sabbath is full of nasty little shocks. All three shorts were good. The first, “The Drop of Water,” is the creepiest and features a corpse with a truly terrifying frozen death-mask face, but the third, a nice little vampire story, was my favorite. I enjoy it when the monsters sometimes win. I too would not have resisted the beautiful female vampire of "The Wurdulak,” which seems to have inspired at least one scene from ‘Salem’s Lot. The film is visually stunning with beautiful and eerie landscapes and gothic set pieces, like this:

After watching the film I did a bit of research and discovered the Americanized version was neutered of some of its bloodier elements, and the middle story, “The Telephone,” badly altered to remove the main character’s backstory as a prostitute in a lesbian relationship. The Italians were a lot less prudish in the early 60s, it seems.

In hindsight these elements make the plot hang together far better so I’ll probably seek out the original at some point.

Recommended.

***

As I was writing this the news hit that Ace Frehley passed away.

I’ve seen Ace in concert many times, including twice this year alone. He was diminished as all 70s rockers are but still putting on good performances and rocking to the end. Ace was the most charismatic member of the band and its most talented musician. He wrote a few of their classic songs (“Cold Gin” and “Parasite," among others), lent the band an early swagger that made KISS so badass in the 70s, and of course, was responsible for many classic solos delivered with an inimitable, unique style. Loose and jangly, big rings banging off the guitar, but always fitted to the song itself.

Ace was a notorious drinker and drug user and nearly died back in the early 1980s in a car wreck while driving under the influence. He was not the best bandmate and later got into pissing matches with Paul and Gene that lasted to the end of his life. But most fans loved him. I count myself in that group. Watch KISS’ classic interview with Tom Snyder, Ace steals the show with his one-liners and trademark cackling laugh. I also recommend his autobiography No Regrets. How he lived this long is a mystery; the stories of him being driven around New York in the back seat of a limousine with John Belushi and spilling out into club after club for one drunken escapade after the next are legend.

My favorite Ace memory is seeing him in 1994 at The Underground in Lowell after pounding a 12-pack of Zima with my buddy Wayne. We were hammered and so was Ace. I later told this story to my very amused friends at work, left for a long weekend, and returned to find my office plastered with cutout pictures of Ace and Zima bottles. 

Ace would have approved.

You may not like KISS but you cannot deny they did their brand of party rock better than anyone. The number of hits they wrote dwarf the output of most rock bands. Dozens of talented guitarists admit that Ace was the guy that got them to pick up their axe in the first place, among them Slash and Dimedag Darrell.

Say a prayer for his soul and his family and loved ones.

Ace Frehley lead guitar! The coolest.

Addendum: For anyone feeling nostalgic for a lost Ace, I HIGHLY recommend this great interview… he talks about The Elder, KISS Meets the Phantom of the Park, his relationship with the band members, getting into music, alcohol use, and none of it is mean spirited. He’s full of laughter in it:

A Fine Line Between Stupid and Clever: The Story of Spinal Tap

Tap crossed that line... which way?

There is a picture of me going to see KISS on their hotly anticipated, sold out 1996 reunion tour. In it I’m standing on my parents’ front lawn with two friends and my brother. All four of us are in KISS makeup.

I’m wearing a Spinal Tap t-shirt.

I love KISS, they’re a fun band who have written some rocking hits. But I also recognize them as ridiculous.

If you've read any of my metal posts here you know I’m a fan. I love the music, I take it seriously. But I also laugh at it. Metal is sometimes awesome, sometimes terrible. Sometimes brilliant, sometimes dumb. Powerful, but sometimes just too damned loud.

Hard rock and metal can be mocked. They should be mocked. Mockery and the ability to absorb it is the sign of a healthy genre, and rock and metal can take it.

Some genres and their fans take themselves too seriously. I see this sometimes in sword-and-sorcery circles; call John Jakes’ Brak or Lin Carter’s Thongor or Gardner Fox’s Kothar what it is—derivative and often dumb, though fun and something I will read and enjoy—and panties get bunched.

But we need good-natured mockery. Parody is a sign of respect that you’ve made it. S&S can take the likes of Mention My Name in Atlantis, and heavy metal can take Spinal Tap. Spinal Tap took the piss out of metal better than anyone before or since in their 1984 mockumentary. And metal bands (most, anyway) love them for it.  We all could use a little more laughter in our lives. Even if the world is ending (it’s not, though one would think so scrolling any social media app) the remedy is laughter.

I just finished reading A Fine Line Between Stupid and Clever: The Story of Spinal Tap, and experienced quite a few chuckles. Laughter is rare to pull off in the written form, I have found. This book made me laugh. But I also learned a lot. I love the film, and when I saw there was a memoir coming out penned by director Rob Reiner I knew I had to have it. Published by Gallery Books, my copy at least came signed by Reiner himself, complete with certificate of authenticity. Cool to have a signature of the man who not only gave us the best metal mockumentary ever, but also The Princess Bride, Stand by Me, and a Few Good Men, among others.

Reiner’s signature is not the only cool and unique feature of the book: It’s also double-sided, like the old Ace Doubles. Flip the book over and “book 2,” Smell the Book, is 60 pages of “interviews” conducted by director Marty DiBergi with band members Nigel Tufnel, David St. Hubbins, and Derek Smalls--an oral history of the band in their voices. Which is pretty funny. You get lines like this:

David: I was at Sacred Sacrament. My mom was a big Catholic.

Marty: Religious?

David: No, five foot ten.

Or old album titles like “Jap Habit” and “Bent for the Rent,” the latter a British expression for what you do for the landlord when he’s bugging you and you can’t pay him, so you do him a favor…

But the meat of the book is the memoir portion. A breezy but well-told history of how the principals came to meet each other, make the film, its reception, and lasting legacy. It offers an illuminating, behind the scenes look, and I learned several things I did not know. For example:

• Spinal Tap barely made it to the screen. The studios to whom Reiner pitched the film did not know what to make of it, just about everyone passed on it.
• It made very little money upon its release and Reiner and co. made almost no money even on licensing until a lawsuit spearheaded by Harry Shearer was able to wrest the rights to the film back and amend missing royalty payments. One city in which it was well-received right out of the gate, I’m proud to say, is Boston, in which it played continuously for a solid year.
• Spinal Tap played real shows before the movie came out to sharpen their playing, including at Gazzarri’s on the Sunset Strip—with opening act Iron Butterfly. No one knew who they were or suspected that they were a parody act (this is circa 1982-83, pre-film, and new metal acts were showing up in the scores.) Spinal Tap was just another unknown metal band.
• Reiner refers to several hilarious-sounding scenes that didn’t make the final cut, as 40+ hours of film was ultimately reduced to a lean 82-minute run time. There were often 3-4 versions of a given scene. Apparently some of these deleted scenes are on a special edition that I need to seek out (my copy is believe it or not VHS). For example, originally the band had an opening act called the Dose, who had a beautiful and easy female lead singer; her dalliances with Tap explain the famous scene where the band has unexplained cold sores on their mouths during a record launch party. But this subplot was left on the cutting room floor.
• The dialogue is almost entirely unscripted and improvised. Reiner, Christoper Guest, Shearer and Michael McKean scripted scenes and had the outlines of the movie plotted, but the actual dialogue was ad-libbed, and many of the verbal jokes utterly spontaneous expressions of the characters they created. Even a young Fran Drescher, then 25, fell into her role and extemporaneously came up with “Money Talks and Bullshit Walks.” That’s talent.

Spinal Tap 2 is just hitting and I’m a little worried. I know someone who got invited to an early screening and he was underwhelmed; he described it as just OK, certainly not terrible but lacking the punch and wit of the original. I will see it for myself, but regardless of whether it holds up as a worthy sequel we’ll always have the OG. The ultimate documentary, if you will, rockumentary, of the world’s loudest band.

Top 5 horror movie babes of the 70s and 80s

I'm howling...

I was born in 1973 and by the mid-80s developed a taste for horror films. It was a time when werewolves and slashers were the rage, monsters, mayhem, murder, prevalent--and the babes, beautiful.

Werewolves were my thing, for whatever reason. Maybe I, powerless but with a powerful hunger, felt the urge to shed my weakness and transform. I will leave the psychoanalysis to the more qualified. The best of the werewolf flicks was and remains An American Werewolf in London. The original Howling wasn’t bad either, and watching that led me to The Howling II: Your Sister is a Werewolf. Which is, charitably, a flawed film. The male lead is one of the worst I’ve ever seen, so wooden you could build a bridge out of him (joke rental courtesy Monty Python). The plot barely hangs together, though somehow it manages to be entertaining. It’s saved by a time-machine 80s vibe, the great Christopher Lee (the film’s entire acting budget must have been spent on him), and by Sybil Danning. The Howling II is basically an excuse to get her on film, a vehicle for her display, and for good reason. She's smoking!

The Monsters, Magic, and Madness podcast* recently hosted the B film actress for an interview. Danning genuinely loves the film as well as her other roles in immortal sexploitation classics like The Long Swift Sword of Siegfried (1971). I’m cool with that. I love weird B cinema too, even if the Howling II makes one howl (and wince, and cringe). I love 80s metal and S&S and so can cast no stones. We need not take life so seriously. 

Danning in Howling II spends most of her time in a wild powersuit, half sci-fi, reflective silver and black, topped with 80s shoulder pads. It shows plenty of skin--exposed hips and wide open from neck to navel. Danning chews scenery like a blood-hungry werewolf. Which she is. Sorry for the spoiler.

And then like a thunderbolt I realized it was time for my top 5 hottest horror movie babes of the 70s and 80s. With a couple honorable mentions thrown in.

I’m going deeper on these selections, so no Jamie Lee Curtis (beautiful, but safe and predictable) or Heather Langenkamp (everyone had a crush on her, but too teen normal and staid). My choices lean into full on sexy, wild, and B movie offbeat.

1. Sybil Danning. I grew chest hair the first time I saw her de-robe and transform into a she-wolf. Here is something to watch.

2. Amanda Donohoe. The Lair of the White Worm is a cult classic in every sense (ancient snake cult exists in the British Countryside), and a lot of tongue-in-cheek fun. I love this film unreservedly but Donohoe’s turn as Lady Sylvia makes it. She’s funny, wicked, drop-dead gorgeous, and sexy as hell, and the best realized character on this list.

3. Caroline Williams. The Texas Chainsaw Massacre Part 2 has some parallels to The Howling II. Both are campy, comic albeit packed with carnage and scares. And each is bolstered by a hot female lead. Williams as the harassed DJ Stretch is irresistible in blue jean shorts.

4. Ingrid Pitt. What can I say about Pitt that hasn’t already been said? The late Polish actress (1937-2010) and Nazi concentration camp survivor was absolutely stunning. She’s probably best known for her roles in a pair of classic Hammer horror films from the early 1970s—The Vampire Lovers and Countess Dracula. Time stops when she’s on screen.

5. Linnea Quigley. If you’ve ever seen Return of the Living Dead (1985) you know the show-stopping dance. Quigley earned “scream queen” status for a string of horror movies in the 80s but RotLD alone would put her on this list.

Honorable mentions

Adrienne Barbeau. Always loved her toughness and edge (and fantastic body, TBH). Underrated actress. But I felt like she could break me in half then (and now). Can she really be 80? 

Catherine Mary Stewart. Major crush on her as a kid (and perhaps now?). Only makes honorable mention because Night of the Comet is arguably SF, and she ventures into too popular/safe territory with roles in Weekend at Bernie’s and The Last Starfighter.

*Recommended BTW. Monsters, Madness, and Magic has stayed in my rotation with its eclectic lineup of semi-obscure celebrity interviews you don’t get anywhere else.

Ingrid Pitt

Caroline Williams

Linnea Quigley

Amanda Donohoe

Disconnect

“Jeremiah, maybe you best go down to a town, get outta these mountains.”

“I've been to a town Del.”

--Jeremiah Johnson

Technology has taken a wrong turn. Smartphones and algorithms and social media have stoked political division, stolen our attention, and sewn intrapersonal division and conflict.

I approve cancelling your favorite digital channels. I approve cancelling it all including ChatGPT. I don’t hold out much hope of any of this happening. I’ve seen people boycott Facebook and Twitter and now BlueSky and then return a day later. Or hop to the next platform of promised peace and civility where it all happens again.

I have faith in individuals. I suspect they’re out there, people who have made the silent choice. I don’t have faith in society at large.

It’s sad that we’re so angry and riven that we can’t even pause to acknowledge death. Our news cycle of endless hot takes won’t allow it. 

Robert Redford passed this week. Ironically he is now remembered by a meme.

But maybe that’s not so bad if it leads you to the source. 

In “Jeremiah Johnson” (1972) Redford plays a man who decides to go into the woods and live off the land. Looking for a suitable place to trap, a man tells him:

Ride due west as the sun sets. Turn left at the Rocky Mountains.

No GPS needed.

It was hard to watch this film. It is so anti 2025. The pace is slow. The dialogue is minimal, the shots long and extended. I found myself reaching for my phone, and the urge to look at … what? Pushed it away. And kept watching.

Soon it became nice to watch this film. The scenery was beautiful, the slow unfolding of the story, real cinema. The sparse dialogue is memorable, and no wonder, because John Milius wrote it.

Then it became meditative to watch this film. I was reminded what real hardships are (this isn’t a film of escape; terrible things happen). I was reminded of what beauty is. 

I’ll remember this film… I’ve already forgotten the 30 second reels on LinkedIn.

The ONLINE world is on fire. The real world is not. You don’t need an primeval forest or unexplored frontier to escape. The answer is the title of this post.

You just have to turn it off.

Which way you headed, Jeremiah?

Canada, maybe. I hear there is land there a man has never seen.

Well, keep your nose in the wind, and your eyes along the skyline.

A sorely needed, swordly-and-sorcerous week off

It's 5 o'clock somewhere ...

My grandfather had fabulous foresight. After WW2 he and his buddy bought a piece of property in the lakes region of New Hampshire and built a pair of cabins that still stand today, with modifications. It’s an inspiring story of wartime service and family sacrifice you can find here on the blog.

We still have the cabin. It’s passed through a couple generations and today I’m a 1/5 owner. My extended family splits the cost of utilities, taxes, maintenance, etc, and we all put in for vacation weeks in the summer.

I’m currently in the midst of our week away. I didn’t realize how much I needed it until I saw the lake, and felt an unseen load lift from my shoulders. It had been too long.

My company has an unlimited PTO policy, which means you can take as much time off as you want (with approval). What this ideal scenario means in practice is often less time off. Guilt and the protestant work ethic are powerful forces. I hadn’t’ taken anything beyond a few scattered days off this year. But right now I’m enjoying a whole lot of little. Pontoon boat rides, Old Fashioneds, the mournful wails of loons.

I’ve put blogging on hold too, but this morning as I was sitting out on our deck listening to the wind sighing through the maples and ripple across the water I was inspired to write something I could reasonably shoehorn onto the blog.

Here’s a few swordly and sorcerous updates.

I enjoyed a visit from Tom Barber. Tom and I get together at least once a year but typically at his house. This year I invited him to the camp and took him out on a leisurely pontoon boat cruise. We got caught up on everything in his life, including the loss of his beloved partner Terri. Tough times for Tom but he seemed to leave in good spirits.

After a span of more than a decade I watched The Whole Wide World with my wife and daughter. I loved it; they liked it although they found themselves annoyed by Bob’s erratic behavior and creeped out with his too close relationship with Hester. This is a very well-done movie and it left me choked up, but I can see the issues it can cause for an outsider with no context for Howard’s life. For example, there is no mention of the extremely late payments from Weird Tales, which we now know greatly impacted his mental health. But you can't expect too much from a 106 minute film and there is some fabulous acting by Zellweger and D'Onofrio. I enjoyed this revisit of Cross Plains.

I’m reading Andrew J. Offutt's Sword of the Gaels and finding it fun. The first two chapters are absolutely fantastic, setting up the reader for a late Roman Empire/Viking Age historical … that suddenly takes an unexpected left turn into the weird. Cormac and his crew are shipwrecked on a seemingly deserted rocky isle and discover a fortress that seems out of another era, evoking deep ancestral memories of Atlantis and snake-men:

Unfortunately some 70 pages later I can feel a bit of sag that plagues so much long-form S&S. It seems hard to sustain swordplay and fast pacing and lack of character interiority over a few hundred pages. We’ll see what else Offutt can do with the rest of the book.

I read a draft of David C. Smith’s Cold Thrones and Arcane Arts. This is a new title in the works from Pulp Hero Press that offers analysis of what makes sword-and-sorcery fiction tick—what it is, and what it does well when it’s at its best. Interestingly Smith spends most of the page count on new S&S, authors like John Fultz and Schuyler Hernstrom and John Hocking and Howard Andrew Jones and many, many others besides. I suspect this will be well-received in the community although I did offer up a few ideas for expansion and revision. Some inspired stuff here.

Lakelife!

The day Hannah met Sam Gamgee (and called to tell me)

My Sam Gamgee is indeed a reflexion of the English 
soldier, of the privates and batmen I knew in the 1914
war, and recognized as so far superior to myself. --JRRT

My daughter Hannah saw Sam Gamgee in person this week. The coolest dude of The Lord of the Rings, the real hero of the story.

But that’s not the coolest part.

The coolest part was, she called to tell me. Breathlessly and right away. Because she knew I’d appreciate it more than anyone.

Walking through the campus of Endicott College this week Hannah saw that Sean Astin was due to speak to the students, that very night. A fortuitous find, if you happen to revere The Lord of the Rings and The Goonies as I do, and she does.

I showed her and her sister the films back in the day and we’ve watched them together a few times since. Hannah has gone on to introduce her friends to them.

It’s nice to know there is something of a mini-me out in the world.

It’s unnerving when your kids go out on their own, and take one step further from home than they’ve ever been (points for guessing the reference). When my phone rang at 4 p.m. and I saw it was Hannah, my heart raced a bit… it was an odd hour to call and I immediately thought something was wrong. 

But it was very right. 

“You’re never going to get what just happened!” she said. I was thrilled that she’d be seeing a star who brought us so much joy on screen… but even more happy that she thought to call me.

Hannah is like this. She’s naturally social, communicative, with a much better sense of this than I possess. Last year she started working as a teacher at Landmark, a school that specializes in children with high-functioning disabilities. A great fit, given her skillset.

She’s still close enough to come home and do her laundry and have dinner with her parents from time-to-time. But when she’s away she picks up the phone … and sometimes we talk about One Eyed Willy, Chunk, and “Baby Ruth.”

I’m thrilled she got to see the actor who played so many great characters we love, in person. But more than that, I’m happy she remembers her old man. 

It’s a good reminder that I need to pick up the phone more often. I taught her some things … and she teaches me as well.

***

In other news of a biographical nature, I'm working my way through the new Robert E. Howard biography Robert E. Howard: The Life and Times of a Texas Author, by Will Oliver, and greatly enjoying that. My early impressions after about 200 pages: It is thorough, deeply researched, and walks a middle path between the likes of L. Sprague de Camp's Dark Valley Destiny and Mark Finn's Blood and Thunder. 

I am also getting close to the end of my heavy metal memoir.

Death gives meaning to life

Roy Batty is pissed. He is the peak of what a replicant can be. Brilliant and reflective. Handsome and powerful, a physical specimen.

But despite his near perfection—his is a light that burns twice as bright—he is, like the flesh and blood humans he is designed to replicate, mortal.

His maker, Dr. Eldon Tyrell of Tyrell Corporation, has programmed the replicants with a short lifespan. Roy wants more, telling his maker, “I want more life, fucker” (one cut of the film substitutes, “father,” which makes the point of who he is addressing even more blatant). 

But more life is beyond Tyrell’s power. So Roy crushes his head like an egg.

His rage is understandable. We’ve all raged at the finitude of life. If you live long enough you see grandparents, aunts, parents, friends--hopefully not children—perish, and deal with grief of separation that may be eternal.

Roy’s life burns twice as bright, as does his incandescent rage at his maker. But is it possible he is mistaken, his anger misplaced? And that he should be, perhaps, grateful?

Roy’s death is beautiful. The speech he gives, reportedly ad-libbed, is perhaps the most powerful and poignant scene in the film. Ridley Scott made some interesting, purposeful choices with how he filmed it.

Death is necessary. Without it, life lacks meaning.

Ernest Becker in The Denial of Death explains that we are limited beings with unlimited horizons, and so live in a constant state of terror (often subliminal) about our own impermanence and insignificance. That all we do—witnessing attack ships off the shoulder of Orion, for example—will all be lost when we pass. And nothing will have come of it.

Yet a life without death represents a different kind of terror.  In The Denial of Death Becker describes the concept of a transference object, which is a person, institution, or idea onto which an individual projects their need for meaning, security, and immortality.

My personal transference object is J.R.R. Tolkien. I happen to like very much what JRRT has to say about death. Tolkien writes that Iluvatar, the creator, gave Men the gift of mortality, setting them apart from the Elves, who are bound to the world until its end. Elves may be immortal, but they are also weary and burdened by time; their spirits are tied to the fate of Arda (the world), and they experience sorrow and loss without the release of death. Men, on the other hand, are granted the ability to leave the world—and their destiny beyond it remains a mystery, even to the wise.

This idea is most clearly articulated in The Silmarillion, where death is described not as a curse but as a “gift” that allows Men to transcend the world and return to Iluvatar in a way the Elves cannot. But as Morgoth corrupts the world, Men come to fear death, forgetting its intended grace. Instead the Numenoreans strive in vain for immortality.

Tolkien calls death a great gift, the greatest given to men. It breaks the cycle of worldly attachment and offers the hope of something greater. In Tolkien’s Catholic worldview, this aligns with the idea that death is a passage, not an end. It is the one thing that prevents stagnation, that pushes us toward humility, courage, and faith. 

Death, for Tolkien, is the door through which true transcendence is possible. Interestingly, both Becker and Tolkien believed that human culture, politics, the stuff around us, was not the way to ultimate meaning. We must shift our perspective towards the cosmic. This mirrors my pursuit of identifying my values and searching for meaning in the symbolic world of ideas rather than the physical. We'll never find meaning here, not even in rings and Silmarils.

Death makes life meaningful, because without it spending time with people does not come with a cost. Without death, any achievement could be unlocked in time. Everyone would eventually share the same experiences, and memories, as they’d explore every crevice of the planet. Because you could in theory do everything, nothing would be unique, or special. Including any given human life. 

You would never have to think about whether you want to spend your time reading a book, or watching a movie, because you could consume all of them. You could choose not to spend time with a loved one and instead watch 200 straight hours of Netflix, because you could spend as much time as you wanted, later. I am not sure love as we know it would even exist; we’d get bored with our life-mate and take up the next.

So death is a gift. It’s a mighty paradox, and I almost feel ashamed, flippant, at writing that. I am quite certain that when I lose someone dear, I will be devastated. I can’t even contemplate my own death, and potential eternal separation from everyone I love.

Yet on a relatively rational day like today I believe it to be true. The abstract knowledge of my own death motivates me to appreciate the warm spring sun coming through the window on my face. It motivates me to write this essay. “Blessed” with immortality and lacking any urgency, why not write it tomorrow, or tomorrow, or … never?

Part of me wonders if I’m not just rationalizing my own terror, the knowledge that I one day too will depart down The River of No Return. 

Would I accept  immortality were it offered to me, if some AGI were able to stop aging and keep us forever young? I don’t know. 

But today, at least? I believe death is a gift.

Roy’s memories are not lost like tears in rain because his story remains. Deckard is the witness, and we are the witness of the film. His death and all deaths are tragic of course, but it’s also the ultimate gift for humanity, which makes more Roy never more human than at that very moment.

And perhaps his soul, symbolized by the flight of the dove, is saved.

***

Holy crap I’m writing about some heavy topics these days. I seem to have no choice, just following the muse. I suppose this is what happens when you’re north of 50 and an empty nester, dealing with a death in the family and others suffering with old age. But the spring is here and I’ve got a lot to be grateful for.

Knightriders, a review

(Warning: Spoilers)

Utopias cannot survive contact with the world of commerce. It’s a message delivered in brutal fashion in the catastrophic ending of George Romero’s Knightriders (1981). Idealism meets the hurtling steel of a freight truck, alternative counterculture going under the wheels of the unstoppable economic engine of the 1980s.

The outcome is predictable and sad. But the leadup and the message of the film is magic.

Weird and flawed, too on the nose perhaps with heavy-handed messaging, Knightriders nevertheless succeeds. It’s unpredictable, meaningful, wonderfully anti-establishment, and utterly singular.

The film opens with a knight (Ed Harris) waking up in a forest, naked and in the arms of his paramour. He kneels and prays over the hilt of his sword, enters a nearby pool to bathe … and proceeds to beat his back with a branch in what we can only presume to be some sort of purification ritual.

Right then you know you’re in for an offbeat movie. And if you had any doubts Knightriders goes straight off the deep end when instead of a horse Harris climbs on a motorcycle and rides back to “Camelot.” 

Romero apparently got the idea for Knightriders from the violent medieval reenactments hosted by the Society of Creative Anachronism (SCA). He had planned on horses but producer Sam Arkoff told him to put his knights on motorbikes. The rest is history. Despite the obvious anachronisms it makes painstaking efforts toward medieval realism, from the forging of weapons, romance, and chivalric oaths sworn in fealty to a king, who is really only a man (and a flawed one at that) full of grand ideas and a vision of something better.

Knightriders engages with the myth of King Arthur in a very unique way, demonstrating the extreme malleability of the old stories. It skips the “historical” Arthur of the 5th/6th century and the romantic late medieval-ish setting of Excalibur and instead leaps straight into 1980. There are no knights, no nobles, no real king. The story instead follows a troupe of traveling entertainers who put on a combination renaissance fair and tournament, complete with jousting and full-on melee conducted by knights riding motorcycles. At its head is Billy (Harris), a stand-in for Arthur. He is the heart of this comic but earnest ragtag group of misfits.

Instead of Camelot Billy’s “kingdom” is a commune of outsiders, all wanting something different than the 20th century has to offer. It’s got some similarities with the hippie communes of the 60s, perhaps the last gasp on the verge of the decade of excess.

It wasn’t at all what I was expecting. I of course know Romero from Night of the Living Dead and its various sequels, and so I thought I might be getting ultraviolence, apocalypse, bloodshed. Knightriders is none of the above. There’s plenty of action, of course (the stunts are fantastic and I winced at a couple of the crashes--stuntmen hit the ground HARD. These guys were not making an easy paycheck). But its basically a character drama spread across a large troupe of actors. All of Romero’s old cronies are in the film … as I was watching every five minutes I was like, “wait, there’s the guy from Dawn of the Dead, and another guy from Dawn of the Dead. That’s the guy from Day of the Dead! Wait is that a Stephen King cameo?” (answer—yes.) Tom Savini plays a major role, not a villain but a foil to the king, and who knew—Savini can act. It’s got an interesting Merlin too, a dude with some medical training but equal parts witch doctor, harmonica playing savant, and prognosticator.

It’s amazing Knightriders ever got made, and unsurprisingly it was a commercial flop. Harris admits in a relatively recent interview that while he remains a fan he knew it was destined for obscurity. It’s too odd and offbeat, non-genre, and the intended audience is unclear. Truth be told it’s also flawed. Some of the acting is, to be charitable, pedestrian. The dialogue in many places is stilted. It’s at least 30-40 minutes too long and badly in need of an edit. It meanders and threatens to lose the thread of story. 

But I can deal with these imperfections, even its deep and abiding flaws, for what we did get. Imperfection is the way of the world. The courage of knights wavers, their honor and fealty are tested by fortune and fame and lust, and often fail. This film does not fail, and for what it lacks in technical artistry it succeeds through heart. I can think of very few films as earnest and sincere. Romero set out to make a statement about the pressures to sell out vs. staying true to your art, and of the extraordinary difficulties of leading a principled life. Of living a values-led life, to whatever end. 

I felt a deep stir of emotion near the end of the film when Harris/Billy/Arthur sees himself not on a bike, but a horse, galloping off on some quest through green lands in a better place. He passes on his legacy in the form of a sword, handing it to a wide-eyed young fan who wanted only an autograph but got much more.

Even if we cannot ever experience earthly utopia the elusive search continues. As long as nonconformists and artists and the disaffected yearn for something more, Camelot beckons.

The Silver Key: 2024 in review

Life is pretty good these days, both personally and creatively. Even though I slowed down a bit on the blog, I’m making an impact.

Life is imperfect and hard and 2024 was no exception. My body continues to age, and hip and knee pain have made a dent in the formerly carefree way I could train with heavy weights. Yet it’s manageable and I keep pushing.

My wife and I are dealing with aging and increasingly infirm parents. My dad is 81, immobile and prone to falls, and I spend a lot of time helping him with day-to-day life. My father-in-law, 85, has early-stage dementia and now requires 24-7 in-home assistance. We’ve got some good external help, but you can imagine what that means for us, and in particular my wife. She spends a lot of time caretaking. We both do. 

But, despite these challenges I can say unequivocally that life is good. 

Why?

We’re grateful to be in a position to take care of our parents when they need us.

I’m blessed beyond measure with two wonderful daughters and a healthy marriage and a good job.

At age 51 I’m at ease with myself at a depth and surety I’ve never previously experienced. I am no longer plagued by unrelenting self-doubt. I know my value, I know where I stand on most issues, and I know what I value. I know enough to say when I don’t know (which is often), and I know when to keep my mouth shut.

This is what true wealth looks like.

My posting here on the blog has declined, but for good reason. My forthcoming heavy metal memoir is taking serious shape, and I know it will see publication this year. Either with some third-party publisher, or more likely self-published. I still sometimes wonder why I’m bothering with a relatively banal story of a no-name heavy metal fan, but I keep pushing, because I believe it’s an important story others might enjoy and learn from. It’s my life, shared in the context of a style of music that has meant so much to me.

But, between writing the memoir, aging parents, work and careers, maintaining friendships on and on, something has to give, and in 2024 it was my posting on The Silver Key. As it publishes this will be my 59th and possibly final post of 2024. 

Last year I had 65 posts, and the year prior 101.And yet somehow my blog traffic has … gone up?

Per Google Analytics, I had 29,352 total post views in 2023, and this year through Dec. 28 I have had 45,230 views. That’s a 54% increase YOY.

How did that occur? I don’t know. Perhaps someone with knowledge of search traffic trends and Google’s air-tight algorithm can offer some insights. I’m at a loss.

It had nothing close to a viral post, but if you look at my top 10 posts by views of 2023, the numbers are significantly higher across the board this year than last. Even though I don’t monetize this blog in any way it’s nice to know people are reading.

On to the show.

Most popular posts of 2024

Normally I do a clean top 10 type post in this spot, but in 2024 I had 17 posts with more than 400 views each. Last year I only had 3 posts exceed the 400 mark. So I’m listing all of these, lowest to highest.

Going Viking at DMR Books, 404 views. A review of the Saga of Swain the Viking, vol. 1.

Of internet induced “Panic Attack” and Judas Priest’s Invincible Shield, 413 views. My review of Judas Priest’s latest, awesome studio effort.

A review of Metallica, August 2nd 2024, Gillette Stadium, 450 views. I knocked out I believe four concert reviews this year, all of which pick up regular seach traffic and occasional traffic from Reddit.

Death Dealer 3: Semi-enjoyable (?) train-wreck, 467 views. So bad its good, I am “enjoying” the Death Dealer series and am reminded I need to review vol. 4.

Ruminations on subversive and restorative impulses, and conservative and liberal modes of fantasy fiction, 482 views. I liked this essay and am glad others did too, which I believe successfully navigated a fraught political line. 

A review of Iron Maiden, Nov. 9 2024, Prudential Center, Newark New Jersey, 483 views. Glad I got see Maiden perform a heavy dose of my favorite Maiden album Somewhere in Time, and one of the final performances of drummer Nicko McBrain.

Prayers for Howard Andrew Jones, ardent sword-and-sorcery champion, 490 views. A terrible tragedy and I continue to wish the best for Howard and his family.

Our modern problems with reading, 499 views. The first of a couple rant-y type posts, people do like these (and I find them easy to write, they come out in a rush) but I’m often left with a feeling of guilt, like I’m adding yet more negativity to an ocean of internet awfulness. But I try to keep rationality at the foundation.

Not all books need be movies, 500 views. See above, I still get irked by everyone wanting a movie made out of every book or literary character. Books can just do some things better.

50 years of Dungeons and Dragons, 559 views. A big round anniversary for a game that’s meant a lot to me.

A review of Judas Priest, April 19 Newark NJ, 586 views. It’s amazing these guys are still doing it.

Some observations while reading Bulfinch’s Mythology, 605 views. Possibly the biggest surprise, a semi-review/scattered observations on an old book of mythology made my top 6 posts of 2024.

The Shadow of Vengeance by Scott Oden, a review, 634 views. A review of a book in the Heroic Signatures line by a writer with an ear for Howard’s prose style.

More (mediocre) content is not better than no content: A rant, 689 views. A true rant, I stand behind my message but need to reiterate I believe everyone should create if the urge arises. I wish I had targeted it more at the major studios and the “franchise-zation” of everything good that ultimately tarnishes art.

And now the top 3:

50 years of Savage Sword of Conan, and beyond, 776 views. SSOC was my gateway to Conan and S&S and I couldn’t let its silver anniversary slip by. One of these days I might get around to completing my collection.

Organizing my bookshelves: How I do it (YMMV—no hate), 878 views. Not sure what happened here—this post was picked up by a blog with bigger traffic and that drove many views, but I think it’s a topic that all of us book collectors can appreciate. 

The Savage Sword of Conan no. 1, Titan Comics: A review, 1388 views. SSOC is an important title, both historically and today, and overall I’m pretty happy with what I’ve seen from Titan. Though as my review points I had some issues with no. 1 (in particular the printing). But this one brought in the most eyeballs of 2024, both out of the gate and continues to do so. I’m reminded I need to pick up issues 5-6.

To sum up: People like shit posting/rants, they like reviews about Conan, they enjoy advice on how to shelve books (?), and they like heavy metal. All these things bring me great joy and I’m glad they seem to bring joy to you, too. I do very much welcome comments on the blog, and thank all my regulars, but the numbers have a power all their own, and demonstrate that which resonates with a broader audience. I’m not a numbers chaser at all and I write what I enjoy, but nevertheless I find the numbers interesting.

As always I welcome comments here about what you like, don’t like, or what you want to see more of in 2025 and beyond. 

Some interpretations of the ambiguous ending of The Green Knight (2021)

If you haven’t seen The Green Knight, and don’t wish to be spoiled, stop here before you enter the Green Chapel and its perils. Thou hast been warned.

The 2021 David Lowery written and directed film The Green Knight is an interesting, inventive take on the old poem “Sir Gawain and the Green Knight.” 

It’s beautifully rendered. You can’t take your eyes off it. It also sticks with you, in part due to its ambiguous ending, which is very much open to interpretation.

Here’s a few thoughts I had from a recent re-watch. And yes, I seem gripped again by my annually recurring year-end fascination with King Arthur.

Needless to say spoilers coming. 

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Brief recap: The plot of The Green Knight (book and film) centers around the arrival of a massive, green-skinned and armored knight in King Arthur’s court on Christmas. He offers up a challenge: Any knight can strike him a blow with sword or axe from which he will not flinch, save that he will return the blow one year hence.

Arthur’s nephew Gawain, the youngest knight in the court, takes up the challenge and strikes a savage cut that sends his head tumbling to the floor. Then, to the horror of all in the hall, the mysterious figure picks up his severed head and turns to leave the stunned court, but not before reminding Gawain he must ride out to his chapel in a year to complete the challenge.

Gawain commits, and embarks on a series of adventures en route. In one of these he is given a green belt/sash that renders him invulnerable to any blow. An obvious, unforeseen advantage in a contest of his sort. But also, unfair and dishonorable.

In the poem, Gawain leaves on the sash, and receives a nick on the neck as a rebuke.

In the film, Gawain removes his sash after an agonized internal struggle, then turns to await the blow. One we’re not sure lands, because the film ends before we see it.

So, does Gawain get his head cut off?

I don’t believe that’s what actually matters. What does is his decision moments prior.

Earlier in the scene Gawain asks an existential question as he stares death in the face: “Is this really all there is?”

This is not (merely) a question concerning the end of his own life, but the possibility of a life without meaning, one ruled by the material laws of nature in which purpose and beauty and meaning are empty and meaningless, and death and decay our only masters. The type of world described by the dragon in John Gardner’s Grendel: “It’s all the same in the end, matter and motion, simple or complex. No difference, finally. Death, transfiguration. Ashes to ashes and slime to slime, amen.”

If he leaves on the sash, he will be invulnerable, but also will have fatally compromised the only virtue that matters in such a world: His integrity. 

Gawain has a flash of what would happen should he leave on the sash: he becomes a king of a fallen kingdom, a dishonorable ruler, haunted by his choice over the long years until the kingdom falls, corrupted.

Ultimately he chooses honor. Does that cost him his life?

The film offers some clues. “Well done my brave knight,” the green knight says, after Gawain removes the sash. And then, the final cryptic line of the film: “Now, Off With Your Head,” which obviously implies he’s a goner. 

After all, a blow is due in return per the sacred rules of the game. Honor demands it.

However, the Green Knight delivers the final line with a good natured, light-hearted spirit, indicating that any blow will be only lightly given, which would make it true to the poem.

As important as this (obviously) is for Gawain and his future, I’m not sure it matters either way. 

Even if Gawain loses his head, the message of the film can be interpreted as profoundly hopeful. 

Let’s start with the idea that the Green Knight represents nature. If so, his acknowledgement of Gawain’s selfless act implies there is honor embedded in nature. It is not an abstract, empty term rendered meaningless by postmodernism, it is as real as the grass under our feet, the rotation of the earth and its seasons. We just have to make the choice.

Though there is a far bleaker interpretation. There may be honor but it ultimately doesn’t matter, nature is going to kill you in the end anyway. It’s all a cosmic joke.

But maybe we should still act honorably anyway, because doing so is its own reward.

Regardless, I believe Gawain's transformation from shiftless coward to noble knight suggests that facing death with dignity is essential to living a meaningful life.

What do you think?

I welcome any thoughts on this.