We lost one of the best of us, the chiefest of nerds, one of the “most famousest of Hobbits (and that’s sayin a lot)”. Reinhardt von Krieger was a devoted father, son, husband, man of God, but (potentially most importantly) the biggest and most diehard Tolkien fan.
He could speak and write both Elvish languages, read/understand Dwarvish/Orcish, and would constantly berate me (his brother) for my Sauron and Nazgûl t-shirts (admittedly…they’re pretty badass, and I’m wearing one as I write this, but still). In his teens, he would regularly berate Stephen Colbert (lauded by normies for his “Tolkien knowledge”) correcting his inaccuracies. His left arm was dedicated to a sleeve depicting the major points of the 3 Ages of Arda, and had the Gaffer’s own custom signature tattooed on his index finger (something that he was incredibly proud of, despite our mother’s misgivings). He could recite songs and poetry written by the literary master, and tell you every deep piece of lore you could possibly imagine. His favorite thing was getting irrationally angry at people who claimed “they could have used the Eagles to fly the ring to Mordor” (spoiler: they couldn’t, frickin plebs).
He was the best man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving for 29 years. His Gondorean grieves will hang in his office until the end of days.
Be at peace, son of Gondor. I will see you again.
He could speak and write both Elvish languages, read/understand Dwarvish/Orcish, and would constantly berate me (his brother) for my Sauron and Nazgûl t-shirts (admittedly…they’re pretty badass, and I’m wearing one as I write this, but still). In his teens, he would regularly berate Stephen Colbert (lauded by normies for his “Tolkien knowledge”) correcting his inaccuracies. His left arm was dedicated to a sleeve depicting the major points of the 3 Ages of Arda, and had the Gaffer’s own custom signature tattooed on his index finger (something that he was incredibly proud of, despite our mother’s misgivings). He could recite songs and poetry written by the literary master, and tell you every deep piece of lore you could possibly imagine. His favorite thing was getting irrationally angry at people who claimed “they could have used the Eagles to fly the ring to Mordor” (spoiler: they couldn’t, frickin plebs).
He was the best man I have ever had the pleasure of knowing and loving for 29 years. His Gondorean grieves will hang in his office until the end of days.
Be at peace, son of Gondor. I will see you again.
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Forwarded from Bellerophon's Autism Plantation
“They have taken the previously good shopping mall and the inner city. We have created an HOA but cannot hold them for long. Mumble rap, mumble rap in the deep.”
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