Have I forgotten to advertize it here? Oh Tolkien, I'm becoming sloppy.

Anyway, my autobiography is finished. It took me slightly longer than expected - approximately 14 months instead of one - and it ended up not nearly as long as I had thought - just about 75 pages - but I hope it is slightly amusing. Some stuff from this blog also went into it, in one form or another.

Read it online, or download it as pdf for free, at
http://www.sheepofstone.de/novel/



By the way, the fantasy universe to which this book (sort of) belongs, and the group that invented and plays with this universe, have a new website.

http://www.teunc.org/

There is still much under construction, but what is up already roolz. Sorry. I mean, it is an absolute travesty and blasphemy, influenced by the foul "humour" of my old nemesis Bqggz. Yes, that sounds about right. (The good thing is, however, that in the library in the "Fredonia" subsection, my novel is listed first. I was clever to start the title with "B", wasn't I?)

Take care, everyone.

Short note: the autobiography project is on hold, but not canceled.

Here's a card for you all. Merry Christmas.

I'm terribly behind my schedule - nearly half the month is over and I've barely reached 14.000 words. Oh well, who cares. If I don't make it, I'll just unilaterally declare it a NaNoWriTMo - write a novel in two months.

Anyhow, at least I've progressed to the part where Noel meets Pseudo, Morambar and all the other characters from the UFAT mythology. Now his crusade can begin in earnest! Or less earnest.

Read all of it here!

Dear comrades, dear friends,

due to lack of inspiration, the blog in its current form will not be updated anymore.

But do not despair - Noel is up to bigger tasks these days. In fact, even as I write these lines, he is working on his autobiography. As an entry to NaNoWriMo, the famous annual "Write a novel in one month" competition, which runs from Nov. 1 to Nov. 30, it will hopefully be finished in this timeframe.

Everything you never wanted to know about Noel will be revealed. A tale of magnificence - a tale of masterful writing - lovingly illustrated - and best of all, it will all be available for free on the internet!

Read the beginning of Beneath Unwashed Robes today and get 5 IQ-points of extra wisdom!

Until Nov. 30, significant progress of the work will be announced on this blog now and then.

Noel reserves the right to comment your blogs whenever he's in da mood.

So long and thanks for all the jellyfish,
Bqggz

A meeting of astronomers has changed the definition of "planet" to resolve the status of Pluto, for long time the outermost known of these bodies.

For the uninitiated, Pluto never really fit in. Too small, too light, orbit too eccentric. But apparently schoolchildren love the little bugger. So when Pluto was on the brink of being demoted to "some kinda lump of ice", public pressure forced the astronomers to do a full somersault and declare everything, yes, everything a planet. Including Xena and - hold your breath - Charon and Ceres. (Read more about it, plus picture)

I disagree strongly with this decision. How many new planets will we get now? 20? 50? "Planet" is the name of an elite, and not every ragged lump should be given this proud name. What's next? Calling the International Space Station a "moon"? Ireland a "continent"? J.K.Rowling a "fantasy author"?

I think it would be decent to not only demote Pluto, but give the remaining 8 planets new names. Preferrably names of Tolkien characters, for is the Professor not our guiding light? Here are some ideas:

Mercury	Denethor	Charred and burned.
Venus	Arwen	Unfortunately, we only see her clothed.
Earth	Peter Jackson	Nobody likes this place anyway.
Mars	Nazgul #6	There could have been life once... long ago.
Jupiter	Noel	As I am the greatest prophet ever, it is only fair if the greatest planet is named after me.
Saturn	Aragorn	Rings... Crown... get it?
Uranus	Bill the Pony	No apparent reason.
Neptune	Celeborn	Boring, nondescript and utterly unfit as sexual object.

I further think that the new "planetoids" Pluto, Xena, Charon, Ceres, Sedna and whatnot should all be named Bqggz, to emphasize his puny size and intellect in comparison to Jupiter/me.

I'm currently amassing an army to convince the astronomers of this idea.

Ave, everyone out there.

I see it has been some time. Somebody of you could have reminded me to post, eh?

Well, you probably didn't miss me, because this is LiveJournal, not a place where real friendships form. And I know that getting through puberty requires all your energy. So I'll let it slip this time.

Anyhow, I was rather busy with a large-scale project. I realized that I've done much preaching and recruiting lately, but little groundbreaking Tolkien studies. So I made an analysis of certain words and their statistical frequency and prevalence in Tolkien's works. I concentrated on a topic that has been subject to debate for a long time: gender issues.

The complete results are 3700+ pages, so I can't give them all here. Just some excerpts, painstakingly manually counted:

(from Chapter 3.2.2.45.23: Frequency of male/female nouns/pronouns in LotR and Silmarillion, pp.3178-3184)

Nouns (LotR)
Man: 370	Woman: 22	Ratio: 16.82
Son: 295	Daughter: 55	Ratio: 5.36
Nouns (Silmarillion)
Man: 44	Woman: 7	Ratio: 6.29
Son: 247	Daughter: 75	Ratio: 3.29
Pronouns (LotR)
he: 8,630	she: 518	Ratio: 16.66
his/him: 7,306	her: 534	Ratio: 13.68
Pronouns (Silmarillion)
he: 2,067	she: 403	Ratio: 5.13
his/him: 2,423	her: 471	Ratio: 5.14

And because Tolkien's words are the Literal Truth, this is the final proof to what I already guessed for a long time. Men are between 3 and 17 times more important than women. Therefore, all females here should immediately accept an appropriately low social position, e.g. as my sex slaves.

carida_46 pointed me to the following thing that measures how difficult to read your LJ is.

prophetum's Flesch-Kincaid Grade Level: 7
Average number of words per sentence:	13.06
Average number of syllables per word:	1.50
Total words in sample:	3499
Analyze your journal! Username:
Another fun meme brought to you by rfreebern

Now I know I can be pretty demanding at times. But still this result worries me. Half of LiveJournal is in grade 6 or below, physically or at least mentally, so does that mean I lose 50% of my potential recruits? And small children are the best recruits - easy to manipulate and cheap to feed.

So I was thinking about how I can appeal to smaller kids. Now vomiting recently mused about how to become a Teletubby, and that set my mind in motion. How would you like it if I made a TV series "The Noeletubbies"? I would be all four of them, of course - can't allow other actors to disturb my brilliant acting. Maybe I would give Bqggz the small role as this impudent vacuum cleaner. Here's how it would look like.

I photographed this apparition of Tolkien's ghost in front of a brothel in Alma Ata, Kazakhstan. Note that the flowers in the field all bow towards him.

It's Mother's Day!

I visited my mother earlier. Yes, contrary to all malevolent rumour, I do have a mother and did not just grow out of a lab tube.

It went like this:

NOEL: Ave, mater mei! Ego returnabam!
NOEL-MUM: What? Who the f*ck are you? I don't buy anything.
N: It's me! Your son!
NM: Yeti? Didn't I tell you to comb your fur before you go outside?
N: No, Noel!
NM: Noel?
N: Yes!
NM: GOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAYGOAWAY!!!!!!!!!!
N: Okay. I'll just leave the flowers on your doorstep.
NM: Those are flowers?
N: Actually, it's pipeweed.
NM: And this actually is a frying pan.

Yes, my pupils, a prophet's life is not easy! Now excuse me, I'll have to find some ice for my head. And ring up my brother Yeti. I forgot his last birthday. But it's okay, he can't read calendars anyway.

I recently was reminded by vomiting that we all have to die, and there was some musing about what should happen to our bodies after that. Not that I plan to leave anytime soon, but well, you have to be prepared for everything. And I, as an aspiring religion founder, have to make sure that you, my followers, still have a place to worship me when I'm gone.

As you know, I rather like my face and the way brilliance radiates out of it. So I'm thinking of how to preserve it. Burying is not an option, because I would look ridiculous as a skeleton. ("Oh look! He's bald! And beardless! Mwahahaha!")

Consequently, I am currently favoring the idea of being preserved in a large and impressive mausoleum. I would, of course, have to make sure that it is bigger than Lenin's, to annoy bqggz. It would have all the things a mausoleum has - huge columns, stone altars, large basreliefs of Tolkien on the walls. I would be in a glass box that would be polished once per day with the spittle shed by a virgin while she chanted Tolkien's words. Here's how it would look like:



Look closely, and you'll notice I only have one leg. That is because the thighbone of the other one will be made into a weapon to smack infidels over the head with. This will quickly become a verb: "Stop pretending Balrogs have wings, or I'll noel you!" And this, I think, is a very appealing kind of immortality.

Rejoice, my friends!

For I have finally managed to bring ads into my journal. Now you too will be able to click on them, to consume and to enjoy the benefits of Capitalism. If that annoys Bqggz, even better!

As a side effect, the upgrade to a "Sponsored" account gave me the possibility to do some designing and formatting. But please do not let this distract you from the ads.

PS: As much as I encourage you to buy all this penis enlargement stuff, please consider keeping some of your money. Not only because penises over a certain size look gross; you also might be embarrassed when I ask you for a donation and you're broke.

I made a new quiz. I called it:

The What Kind Of Bad Hair Day Are You? Quiz

Take it today!

Original idea by derridina. Here's my result:

From http://www.washingtonpost.com/wp-dyn/content/article/2006/04/14/AR2006041400342.html


And they say my cult is weird! No, my friends and minions, be assured: I will never ask something like that from you. After all, if you are nailed to a cross, how will you be able to read Tolkien's books? I bet those people did not spend a single thought on that!

Today I desecrated Tolkien.

I was delivering a sermon to approximately two million of fishermen, just like every day. It all seemed to go well. I had quoted Tolkien, I had done the small miracles - turning water into urine, healing people from deadly boredom etc.

Just when I was back home I discovered that I had made errors. My speech had only lasted 7 hours, and yet I had managed to slip in one misplaced comma, one wrong page number and one factual error (a reference to Balrogs in an essay Tolkien wrote in 1927, which I had misused as proof for a theory on Tolkien's opinions on the overall number of balrogs in 1920, despite the serious changes these opinions underwent in the early twenties).

I was devastated. More so by the fact that I totally did not notice until I was back home. Now, of course, I understand why my audience got so restless after the 5th hour of the sermon. They, of course, noticed.

Am I getting old? Or am I getting too complacent with my recent successes? I will have to meditate about that. I will also whip myself tonight.

I refused to make an April Fools joke this year. I feel that Tolkien is much too earnest and sacred a topic. As you probably know by now, this is a deadly serious journal - if you want humour, go elsewhere. Or read Bqggz' comments. That guy makes a fool of himself every day of the year.

What else is new? I've sort of settled in here on the northern shores of the Baltic Sea - so far, the agents of evil have not attacked me here. I caused an early spring in this region, because the greatness of my truth radiated from me like high-energy microwaves. So I melted the ice on the Baltic Sea long before it naturally would have thawed. Some millions of local fishermen profited greatly from that and joined my cult. World domination is making progress slowly but steadily! A dead elephant fell out of my hair; it must have become entangled in there last autumn when I was in India. I should comb more often.

Stay faithful!

Ah, the Mohammed thing. I just saw it on TV. They burned the Danish embassy in Syria and whatnot. Yawn. While I agree that a majority of Danes are heretics, especially Claire, that is just ridiculous.

Here is a little picture of me and Mohammed which I took on a time machine vacation to Arabia. I hung around with him a while, and I think I inspired him to found a religion. Sorry about that.



Well, what can I say? He was a great guy. Though he was a bit self-conscious about going bald, which was why he wore a turban all the time, and also disliked being pictured. But hey, who of us does not have a spleen or two?

Ave, amici! Long time no update. As compensation I offer you this little poem in honour of Tolkien. I recite it every day when I get up and again before I go to bed. I recommend that you do it too, it will help you on your path to enlightenment. (And improve your Latin grades, my kiddies!)

Tolkien, you're my guiding lux
Ego lego tibi books
Every dies, every noctes
I read quod your brain concoctes.

Tolkien, you're a genius
And I quote e pluribus
Volumes of the History
Of Medium-earth et Letteri.

Non est semper truth in them?
Non sunt they so brilliantem?
O amicus, can't you find
In them pacem for your mind?

Tolkien, you're the author best
North to south et east to west
Cis et trans et hoc and hic
Noone scribit better fic.

So, amici, veni mecum
Follow mihi, the prophetum
Lege Tolkien every hora
Atque spread his words in fora!

bsssssssss...WHEEEEEOUH!
bsssssssss...WHEEEEEOUH!
bsssssssss...WHEEEEEOUH!

Ouch! Ouuuuuuch! Ouch! Stop it! Stop shooting this firework at me, you agents of evil!

bsssssssss...WHEEEEEEEEEOUHH!

Ouuuuch! Not into my ass!
Okay, that's enough! You asked for it! Take this bowl of punch!

SPLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAASH!

Ha! And take this punch with my bowl!

BLAM BLAM BLAM!

What do you say now, foul desecrator of Tolkien?

*END OF LIVE TRANSMISSION FROM THE NEW YEAR PARTY OF THE ALT.FAN.TOLKIEN DISCUSSION GROUP*

As the French say: Joyeux Noel!

How come the French named a holiday after me? Well, I admit that I have no idea. If I ever come to France, I'll ask them. They probably love me dearly. I hope they will make me their king.

Here is a little something for you, a picture titled: "How I played a harmless prank on Maria, Joseph and little Jesus". Hmmm, this must be a time machine thing. I definitely didn't have a beard in 1 AD.