I'm not Such a Bad Guy

by Sauron, Guest Columnist




Yes, yes, I am that Sauron. I am the Dark Lord of Mordor, the one whose name should not be spoken, the Great Eye, yadda yadda yadda. I am, if you are to believe the words of that revisionist sycophant, Tolkien, a pretty evil guy.

Alright, I don’t necessarily blame Tolkien. After all, he really only had the word of that pathological liar of a hobbit, Bilbo, to go on. Really, how was he to know that halflings are habitual liars and truth-stretchers? I can’t blame Tolkien for believing those cutesy little curly-haired shit-disturbers. I mean, for example (and purely as an example from the top of my dome), everyone believes a cute little elven girl when she says that an ugly little Necromancer broke her favourite doll, chopped off all of its limbs, and melted the remains in a furnace. Whatever Illuvatar, I didn’t do it. I was busy making cool shit with Aule the smith.

Now, the central point of that entire soppy story of Tolkien’s is that I, Lord of Darkness that I am, was trying to regain control over the one ring. This pulp author waxes poetic through three giant volumes of prose littered with archaic words and flowery-ass songs about how I want to have my ring back. So what? If you slaved away for months on end making the perfect ring of power, wouldn’t you want it back? And don’t give me any of that finders- keepers crap, I made the ring and it is, therefore, my intellectual property. My very own sweet honeysuckle dewdrop intellectual precious.

Now, I realize that many of you might not be swayed by this. After all, the Lord of the Rings franchise has become quite a cultural phenomenon. It seems like an iron-clad, hard and fast rule that the Fellowship of the Ring = Good and Sauron and his friends = bad. Oh wait, I forgot, Sauron doesn’t have any friends; no, he only has minions. Do you know how much that hurts? Not only do I have to have my name besmirched as entirely evil, but I am not even permitted the dignity of having friends. No, I only have a bunch of slavering gross-looking creatures that serve me out of fear.

I admit that some of my associates are rather vile-looking, sure. But let’s be honest, in this superficial world of ours the job market is geared toward good looking folk. In the name of civil rights and equality of all, I set up my Mordor enterprise as an equal opportunity employer. As long as you have the right attitude, I am both willing and able to serve as your Lord. I would have even employed the hobbits, if they had not turned out to be such thieving little ingrates.

I want you to really think about it. Imagine that you invested years into creating a thing of unparalleled beauty and craftsmanship. Now imagine that some furry-footed little half-man came by, snatched that thing up, and threw it into a boiling pit of lava.

Wouldn’t you be upset? I mean, I’m just a floating lidless eye wreathed in fire, but I still have feelings. There was no Visine on Middle-Earth, let me tell you, and I’ve suffered for it. Now I have to deal with everyone thinking that I am some nefarious dark Lord bent on corruption, destruction, and the pursuit of limitless power.

I’m not a tyrant, I’m just a guy who wants his ring back.