God, hes left as on aur oun.
This ahistorical dreamlike landscape where action is situated—
—broke asunder and fell from her hand. A blinding sheet of white flame sprang up. The bridge cracked. Right at the Balrog’s feet it broke, and the stone upon which it stood crashed into the gulf, while the rest remained, poised, quivering like a tongue of rock thrust out into emptiness.
With a terrible cry the Balrog fell forward, and its shadow plunged down and vanished. But even as it fell it swung its whip, and the thongs lashed and curled about the wizard’s knees, dragging her to the brink. She staggered, and fell, grasped vainly at the stone, and slid into the abyss. “Fly, you fools!” she cried, and was gone.
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Susan Sontag R.I.P.
Ed Champion posts some good links. Maud quotes from Scott McLemee. Some discussion at Crooked Timber. And Kip's post is...