Gandalf Disbands the Fellowship of the Ring, Blaming It for Rise of “Ring Anxiety” Among Youth of Middle Earth

“The Trump administration announced it is cutting nearly $4 million in federal funding for climate change research at Princeton University, saying that the work promoted ‘exaggerated and implausible climate threats’ and increased ‘climate anxiety’ among young Americans.” The New York Times

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My friends, I, Gandalf, am hereby disbanding our Fellowship that was formed to destroy the “One Ring” that, should the evil Sauron get hold of it, allegedly would give him limitless power, which I do on account of the “ring anxiety” that this Fellowship is foisting upon the youth of Middle Earth.

 

Some of you may really believe that Sauron and the ”One Ring” do pose a threat. You might have noticed the darkness spreading in the sky from Mordor, the orc hordes overwhelming our borders, or the deep sense of existential dread growing in the pit of our collective stomach telling us that our doom is approaching more swiftly than Aragorn fleeing that mountain giant we encountered last week, later claiming he was “scouting ahead.” Whatever, dude. For a guy schlepping around as much emotional baggage as you do, Aragorn, you sure can move.

 

But, can we really attribute these phenomena directly to the “One Ring”? As my fellow wizard Zolin the Purple used to say, a hundred percent of people who confuse correlation with causation end up dead, that is, before Zolin ended up dead himself from eating the wrong forest mushrooms, bless his heart. And, related to that, I don’t know about you all, but I’m pretty sure that the pain in my stomach has nothing to do with the “One Ring” and everything to do with that disgusting squirrel stew that Aragorn constantly undercooks. Future king you may be, Aragorn, but if that doesn’t pan out, I beg you not to seek employment in a commercial kitchen.

 

True, we were entrusted by the free leaders of Middle Earth (encouraged to do so by Aragorn, I must point out) to aid Frodo in his quest to carry the “One Ring” to cast it into the fires of Mount Doom. We have walked many leagues—probably around 150 more than we needed to, if Aragorn hadn’t been holding our map upside down for the first three weeks—and faced many hardships. Why one of our Great Eagles, who in my various adventures have flown me all over Middle Earth, can’t just pop over and drop the darn thing in, I have no idea, but Aragorn, who, I noticed, is keeping a very diligent accounting of his per diem expenses and makes sure that he gets his double frequent customer points at every inn we pass, keeps saying this is the only way to do it, so here we are.

 

However, “ring anxiety” already plagues our Fellowship. Every day, Frodo does not let on the secret of the heavy burden of the “One Ring” that he carries, Boromir secretly covets the ring, and Aragorn secretly sneaks off for fifteen minutes at a time to grunt rhythmically in the bushes to “sharpen his sword”—the less said about that, the better.

 

You may ask, though, do the youth of Middle Earth really have “ring anxiety,” do they follow the news, preferring instead to waste their hours endlessly eyeballing those short scrolls filled with runes of cats doing silly things, “influencers” reviewing the latest in leather aprons, and all sorts of drivel scribed as if by trolls?

 

To which I respond, whenever the family gets together, my great-grand-niece is all “What if Sauron gets the One Ring” this and “What if Sauron gets the One Ring” that. You might wonder, where does she learn this nonsense? Let’s just say it’s interesting that despite our mutual pledge of secrecy, every other day in the Middle Earth Times there’s an article quoting an anonymous “highly placed source” in our Fellowship, telling us of the “grave danger” should Sauron get the “One Ring,” and, incidentally, also constantly referring to Aragorn as the “handsome, fearless, rightful future king” should the “One Ring” be destroyed. Curious, that.

 

If you ask me, let’s not get too worked up; after all, “ring change” is always happening. Heck, here we are in Middle Earth’s Third Age, the Second having ended when Aragorn’s ancestor Isildur cut the “One Ring” from Sauron’s hand, held onto the thing rather than destroying it, and then it got mysteriously “lost.” By the way, Aragorn’s claim to the throne of Gondor is made on the basis of this previous “One Ring” panic. Just sayin’.

 

In conclusion, our Fellowship having been disbanded, my parting wizardly words are these: don’t take any wooden nickels, may the road always rise to meet your feet, and, together, let’s make Middle Earth Great Again.