A Note from the Pote Poet: Misery is manifold, the wretchedness of earth is multiform, and the following poetic homage took a lot more effort than I envisaged when I started it (hey, rhyme scheme, schmyme scheme). For best results, tongues should be placed firmly in cheeks before reading. All fandom shenanigans portrayed herein are fictitious (hem hem) and any similarity to persons real or living in a world of their own delusional imaginings is entirely coincidental. I love everyone, me.
The Rowling (with apologies to Edgar Allan Poe, JK Rowling, and probably quite a few other people too)
Once upon a website nameless, where folks bickered, long and aimless, Over many a controversial plot-point of Potterian lore, I observed their fights and snapping, and at each fresh burst of yapping, I could feel the tension sapping, sapping all my patience sore. "Tis all balderdash!, " I muttered, "sapping all my patience sore. Fandom wank, and nothing more!"
Ah, each oldbie and newcomer bought the newest tome that summer; Some had found Book Five a bummer, and its plot twists uncalled for. Eagerly they all had waited – keenly they anticipated That this volume venerated would improve what went before – Make up for their disappointment o'er the book that came before – Which they thought to be a bore.
But each tiresome, sad and silly posting by some halfwit filly Chilled me – filled me with most tedious whinings never heard before: Though some found the book quite nifty, for each one who loved it, fifty Seemed to think it sordid, shifty, and upon it scorn did pour And they all exclaimed in anger as they on it scorn did pour "OMG – plot holes galore!"
As I read, their gist grew clearer: "Rowling SUX!" they'd taunt and jeer her "Though we loathe her use of adverbs, it's the shipping we deplore! Harry can't end up with Ginny – she's too ginger, she's too skinny And her voice sounds like a whinny – she's a strumpet, she's a bore! Yes, we all are sure Hermione is the girl he should adore – Only she, and not some whore!"
How they bleated in confusion, "Our beliefs are no delusion! Now we can't believe we ever liked her books in days of yore! In Book Five she killed our Siri, now her sanity we query Of these half-baked twists we weary – sex-god Snape exists no more! As for heinous Tonks and Remus – that must be the final straw! OOC, and nothing more!"
As I scrolled on through this ranting, all their anger left me panting; These and something like a million other grievances they bore. But the drama was unending, and their virulence unbending, There was bitching and unfriending, legal threats and blood and gore And it seemed that each new posting brought fresh horrors to abhor As they cat-fought, tooth and claw!
As I read this drivel shocking, from outside there came a knocking. "Bloody hell, it's J.K. Rowling! What's she doing at my door?" As she stood in moonlight gleaming, I did wonder "Am I dreaming?" And my mind with thoughts a-teeming tried to guess what she'd come for. Since I had no better notions, I just stared and gaped and swore: "It's Jo Rowling! Zut alors!"
Though this author blonde was grinning, and her charming manner winning, I stood thunderstruck and gazed upon her countenance in awe. "Do not say you were out strolling, for the midnight hour is tolling. Why on earth would JK Rowling just walk up and bang my door? You're one very scary lady!" She stood laughing at my door: "Do I look like Voldemort?"
Much I marvelled, and I told her, "Please, permit me to be bolder, Could you answer several queries? There are matters to explore For your fans are disagreeing over what they think they're seeing And right now your text is being combed for every tiny flaw. Will you answer and resolve these tricky issues? I implore, JK, tell us – what's the score?"
When Jo Rowling smiled, assenting, I began my lengthy venting: "Far too many of your readers spend too much time hunting for Hidden flints and plot-holes squatting in your convoluted plotting! But those twists and tangles knotting seem to me quite hard to draw. How do you prevent them clotting?" Rowling smiled and stroked her jaw. "I've been watching 24!"
"Now I know the Half-Blood Prince is dearest Snapey, it convinces. He may be an evil git – but did he murder Dumbledore? Why did Albus trust a traitor? Will it all be cleared up later? Or is Snape a Muggle-hater in the pay of Voldemort? Did poor Albus trust a traitor in the pay of Voldemort?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "Tragic flaw!"
"Now, Ms Rowling, I've heard leaking – I confess, I was not peeking – But since you and I are speaking – what does R.A.B. stand for? Tell me, who would dare to fiddle with the soul of Tom M. Riddle? Does Mundungus have that locket? Is it stuffed inside a drawer? Did the youngest Black purloin it? What's the crux and where's the hor?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "Check the floor!"
"So will Wormtail learn some mercy? And what will become of Percy? And will Tonks and Remus live to wed, or are they both done for? Will Lord Voldy hang and quarter all the Weasley sons and daughter? Is a wholesale good-guy slaughter what Book Seven holds in store? Will it end up in a bloodbath? Will folks die that we care for?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "Sí, señor!"
"Now my thoughts must turn to shipping – 'twas a subject most found gripping But when Harry snogged with Ginny, ships were broken on the shore! Since he met her in the second book, has love with Ginny beckoned? What about the crowd who reckoned that Ms Granger'd be his squaw? Is the matter finished now, or is there truth in what they saw?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "My word's law!"
"JK!" said I, "tell me plainly! – in this fandom, so ungainly, Many speculate on Lily and the saintly guise she wore. We know she was good at potions – did she also stir emotions? Pray confirm my wildest notions – James was not her only score? Were there other beaus that Lily had? – Lupin? Snape? Or Voldemort?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "Can't say more!"
"JK!" said I, "tell me truly! – in this fandom, so unruly When Book Seven arrives in bookstores or is pushed right through our door Can you promise something trashy, something sexy, something slashy? Will you pull out something flashy that these fangirls won't abhor? All those strange, eccentric readers craving something more hard-core?" Quoth Jo Rowling, "Goats galore!"
"How I've bored you with this madness – poor JK!" I sighed in sadness, "Best get back to your computer and resume your final chore. Just ignore the online prattle – let young Harry fight his battle And we'll wait for something that'll end the tale and close the door! Fight the fight and write what's right, and we will wait for one book more!" Quoth Jo Rowling, "I withdraw!"
So Jo Rowling, never griping, still is typing, still is typing In her modest Scottish palace filled with kids and cash galore, And the fandom, far from thanking, still is wanking, still is wanking; Though they all deserve a spanking, still they wage their flaming war. And the book that ends the saga shall be published – less or more – In June 2034....