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April 10, 2026
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"This, then, was the yeast on which Barad-Dur rose six centuries ago, that amazing city of alchemists and poets, mechanics and astronomers, philosophers and physicians, the heart of the only civilization in Middle Earth to bet on rational knowledge and bravely pitch its barely adolescent technology against ancient magic. The shining tower of the Barad-Dur citadel rose over the plains of Mordor almost as high as Orodruin like a monument to Man â free Man who had politely but firmly declined the guardianship of the Dwellers on High and started living by his own reason. It was a challenge to the bone-headed aggressive West, which was still picking lice in its log âcastlesâ to the monotonous chanting of scalds extolling the wonders of never-existing NĂşmenor."
"âWhat are we wizards but consumers of that which our predecessors have created, while they are creators of new knowledge? We face the Past, they face the Future. You have once chosen magic, and therefore will never cross the boundaries set by the Valar, whereas in their science the growth of knowledge â and hence, power â is truly unlimited. You are consumed by the worst kind of envy â that of a craftsman for an artist.â"
"âYou know, those who are motivated by greed, lust for power, or wounded pride are half-way tolerable, at least they feel pangs of conscience sometimes. But there is nothing more fearsome than a bright-eyed enthusiast whoâd decided to benefit mankind; such a one can drown the world in blood without hesitation. Those peopleâs favorite saying is: âThere are things more important than peace and more terrible than war.ââ"
"âCraft the Final Solution to the Mordorian problem, sure, but when itâs time to implement it, you always hide in the bushes. Itâs executioners you need, so that you can later point at them in disgust: itâs all their excesses.â"
"âIn two or three decades the Elves will turn Middle Earth into a well-tended tidy lawn, and Men into cute pets; they will deprive Man of a very small thing â his right to Create, and grant him a myriad of plain and simple pleasures instead.â"
"I have filled the gaps in Tzerlagâs story at my own discretion. The old soldier bears no responsibility for my inventions, especially since many will now passionately charge the storyteller â who else? â with deviating from the mainstream version of the events of the end of the Third Age. One has to note that the publicâs knowledge of these events is mostly derived from the adapted Western epos, The Lord of the Rings, at best, and often from the Sword of Isildur TV series and the Galleries of Moria first-person shooter game."
"I have to sonorously remind those critics that The Lord of the Rings is the historiography of the victors, who have a clear interest in presenting the vanquished in a certain way. Had genocide taken place back then (where did those peoples vanish if it hadnât?), then itâs doubly important to convince everybody, including oneself, that those had been orcs and trolls rather than people. Or I could ask them: how often do we find in human history rulers that would relinquish their power, for free, to some nobody from nowhere (pardon me â a DĂşnadan from the North)? Yet another subject of immodest curiosity might be the actual payment Elessar Elfstone had to make to the wonderful companions he had acquired on the Paths of the Dead. I mean, summoning the powers of Absolute Evil (for a noble cause, of course) is totally commonplace, heâs neither the first nor the last; but for those powers to meekly revert back to nothingness after doing their job without asking anything in return sounds highly doubtful."
Heute, am 12. Tag schlagen wir unser Lager in einem sehr merkwĂźrdig geformten HĂśhleneingang auf. Wir sind von den Strapazen der letzten Tage sehr erschĂśpft, das Abenteuer an dem groĂen Wasserfall steckt uns noch allen in den Knochen. Wir bereiten uns daher nur ein kurzes Abendmahl und ziehen uns in unsere Kalebassen-Zelte zurĂźck. Dr. Zwitlako kann es allerdings nicht lassen, noch einige Vermessungen vorzunehmen. 2. Aug.
- Das Tagebuch
Es gab sie, mein Lieber, es gab sie! Dieses Tagebuch beweist es. Es berichtet von rätselhaften Entdeckungen, die unsere Ahnen vor langer, langer Zeit während einer Expedition gemacht haben. Leider fehlt der grĂśĂte Teil des Buches, uns sind nur 5 Seiten geblieben.
Also gibt es sie doch, die sagenumwobenen Riesen?
Weil ich so nen Rosenkohl nicht dulde!
- Zwei auĂer Rand und Band
Und ich bin sauer!