A fair portion of the quantum mechanics homework was done in today, which means the beginning of this week should prove a little more laid back than usual. It (or rather, we) will be even more laid back if my roommate and I can snag the leather furniture set we saw on craigslist. I will probably need all this extra time and comfort to dispatch with the penultimate installment of the Wheel of Time series.

The Wheel of Time is one of the three ongoing fantasy series that I have invested time into, and it is by far the most expansive and I mean that in every sense of the adjective. I am a huge fan of the immense scale, vivid characterization and positively dense worldbuilding that the Wheel of Time brings to the table. The thing is, Robert Jordan's series reminds people why volumes are named after the physical concept of taking up space. If you are unfamiliar with the series, realize that by adding more characters when he should have been killing old ones off and contorting subplot upon subplot into his tale the author finally realized (after 11 novels each spanning about 800 pages) that he had written himself into too big a hole to write out of and did the only reasonable thing he could given the circumstances--he died. My friend Andrew and I immediately took up the task of untangling this literary Gordian Knot (invoking a stratagem very similar to that of Alexander the Great), but our version gained little notoriety and was quickly forgotten. The task (and Jordan's notes) were then passed onto a young, superproductive fantasy author named Brandon Sanderson. After adding two books to the collection, he now claims that the series will be completed with but a single additional tome, and I shall weigh in on this affirmation once I have finished The Towers of Midnight. I have started treading into the publication, but I will say no more for the sake of those who are in a similar position.

In case you are interested the other two series that I mentioned, they are The Song of Ice and Fire and The Kingkiller Chronicle. I assure you that I have strong opinions about both (tirades stick in my throat even now), but the time to share them has not yet come.

I would end myself if I allowed this post to conclude without mentioning the king of the fantasy genre: J.R.R. Tolkien. His Lord of the Rings series (in cassette tape form) kept me sane across great stretches of America on my way west. I shall probably be bringing you many of his villains in the future, but for now, face Smaug!

Main antagonist of The Hobbit, Smaug the Magnificent is known by many other, even more grandiose epithets, and for good reason. One of the last great dragons of Middle Earth, Smaug rests atop a treasure who vastness is beyond imagining. For centuries dwarves mined, wrought, forged and gathered the jewels, gold and wealth of the Lonely Mountain, and it was all stolen from them in an instant when the mighty red dragon descended upon their horde, claiming it as his own and slaughtering all who would deny his stake. His chief powers are flight (stealthy gliding if need be), an armored body that is beyond the weapons of man, a breath that is unto the sun's inferno and the guile and cunning that comes only from plotting evil for ages unending. He also possesses a fondness for riddles and revenge. He is laid low only through the combined powers of a quick thinking hobbit, a helpful thrush, a man of old blood and a legendary arrow.