About Noel

Ave, my friends and followers, and welcome again to my personal website. I am a prophet. You know... the guys with white robes and wild hairdos who stand at the street corner and yell that the end is near.

My name is Noel Q. von Schneiffel. Actually, I was born as Noeel Quickley, but that seemed too mundane for a man on such an important quest, so I acquired the title Freiherr von Schneiffel from a minor nobleman who was looking for an heir. I also grew weary of people misspelling my first name, so I bribed a scribe to get rid of the second "e" in it. That's the short version, read my biography if you are interested in the details. But if you want to become my follower, you need not burden yourself with these complications. Just call me "Enlightened Master", that will do nicely.

Anyway: I made this website all alone. Really. There is this orc guy, Bqggz, but he did not contribute anything. At least, not anything constructive. He calls himself a communist revolutionary - I call him a green-skinned, annoying weirdo. Bqggz has this obsession with politics, which means, he can't talk about anything else but his class struggles, proletariats and left-wing parties. Ridiculous! For are not all answers to be found in Tolkien's books? Yet everything Bqggz writes about Tolkien from his "revolutionary perspective" is slander and abuse. We were friends once, and for the sake of these old times, I allowed him to put up a few of his things here, but I urge you to not look at it. It's really bad.

[ Reactionary!!! --Bqggz ]

[ Shut up, heretic infidel. This is my page. --Noel ]

The real purpose of this Tolkien-themed website, of course, is exactly the opposite: to glorify this famous author and praise his works, which are the Literal Truth and have the power to guide you through all perils of life.

Ah, Tolkien! Nature celebrates thy name. The clouds spell it in the sky. The mold spells it on a moist bread I leave in the open on a warm summer day. One million apes type it on their typewriters if given an infinite amount of time, or whenever they're bored of writing Shakespeare's sonnets. Ah, Tolkien! Author, prophet, visionary. The Bible itself foretold thy coming, for the resulting word if you take every 1892nd letter in Ezekiel 18:92, divide them by zero, write them vertically and backwards on a mirror at midnight and finally erase the resulting "Gwkzshprl" with a soft cloth doused in baptismal water and write "Tolkien" over it instead, reads "Tolkien".

Ah, Tolkien! John Ronald Reuel! Pipeweed-smoker, tater-eater, ornamental-waistcoat-wearer, defender of outdated words, fighter for the right to begin sentences with "And". And, and, and... so much more! Words cannot describe it, so why don't you give away all your worldly possessions to the needy - or, even better, to the Tolkien Estate - put on the wooden sandals and follow me on my path?

Fredonia, FATS & Co.

Of course, after decades of studying Tolkien, I stand miles above you, dear reader - but still I am but a speck of dust compared to Morambar Udunvagor, the greatest prophet of Tolkien in this and all worlds, who taught me all I know today. So I accepted without hesitation when he asked me to take a part-time professorship in his newest project, the Fredonian Academy of Tolkien Studies (FATS). Besides, I was slightly homeless at this time anyway after the heretics had burned down my temple. (Additionally besides, Bqggz had moved to this particular universe and, incited by his new handkerchief friend, became more annoying than ever, so I sort of wanted to keep an eye on him.) When I am in Fredonia, I reside in a hollowed-out mushroom not far from the FATS campus in the lovely town of Oxfat, where I teach a couple of subjects including Latin Chanting and Truth.