oh how I hate editing posts, so let's do it together

repost from elsewhere

often the goblin often pretended to himself that he actually knew why he was as he was, oh and why he posted too, but no, the truth was that he only understood that at was habitual today, so instead he just uttered "...yes, years later and I'm still trying to convert those worth writing about thoughts into posts across forumland, so I'm never bored, not as in idle then, and where too, one's clarity of thought becomes evident while doing it...", in fact, the goblin's anonymity simply meant that he had no external reason to post, instead, he still wanted to know what those thoughts were then, just who he was by what he posted perhaps, terming it a journey to self, yet by now it defied all logic and had become something habitual that called from within for its release, repeating "...so it's the shared life clause in the muse's pact then, where each time one can either try expelling it through posting, or leave it nagging till one caves in to it once more, clearly no choice really...", in fact, others might see it as something commendable but to the goblin it just something one lived with now, a shared life


60

 

repost from elsewhere, just sharing, someone heckling a new poet on a poetry thread

"...wrong, because you'll only end up playing right into those educators hands like that, so read for yourself but don't try to become a poet in the way other suggest, instead, find you own style first and smile at anyone who suggests that all that "book-writing" nonsense, together with those "book-writing" rules too, actually work here on forumland where clearly they don't, because next they'll be suggesting some internet workshop folly to you where the real line to remember is if you write like everyone else it just becomes like everyone else then", so you're doing fine being yourself here..." continuing "...sorry xxxxx, I didn't mean to hijack your thread like this, therefore I'll just repost this post on my the other thread for the heckler to attack my standpoint in his good time, leaving you to get on with your very original non stylized non "trying to be a poet" poems, all of which I will read promise, anyway with poetry it's not good or bad is it, it's "honest to oneself" that counts, just think back on how Coleridge's "Kubla Khan" just threw those stuffy stanza rules out the window, think of Van Goth's brushwork too, but don't listen to me, nor them, nor anyone else for that matter, you only have to listen to yourself now and go for it..." said the goblin still laying down the challenge to the heckler here, saying "...show me what you can post in your own right before you attack this poet again for your comments only expose you here for anyone can heckle, ah but can they trump it, where don't think you can, off with you now..."


60

 

"Writing is about expression and imagery." The Magician remarked, laughing seriously.

 

repost from elsewhere, the woman's interests "last post" thread, weightloss again

the goblin often wondered if a diet was ever the right way in life, saying "...surely a diet is just an excuse to not change one's basic eating habit, while one is not dieting that is, any decision should be long term then, not "I am dieting now" or worse "I will diet this all off later", more "I need to think out my lifestyle here", so if eating is habitual change those habits, if it addictionnal keep food out of arm's reach, if it is release don't let it build up in the first place, but we are aware of all this already and ignore it thinking one can just diet it off later, so a diet in effect becomes a loan from the "excuse bank" here for the wrong lifestyle perhaps..."


61

 

repost from elsewhere

"...ah ladies, a man will never tell you that he actually loves you for your imperfections then, while you will never believe it for the simple truth it is, even when he tells you clearly that it just is, so instead he just tells you that you are perfect, which rightly you don't believe either, where he's just hoping that it will somehow appease you with a lie which of course it doesn't..." mused the goblin adding almost in a whisper and a wasted breath "...proximity and time are all that matter here where men are concerned, they love you for your imperfections again, but you never believe men do you, so still you want to be some monotone perfect when it's your imperfections that makes you so wondrous to him..."


60

 

repost from elsewhere

the goblin wasn't so sure at this point, it was as if his very existence was a vortex of ever decreasing circles, diminished returns, and met expectations, no, not just for himself but for anyone who remained within its orbit, "...ah, that's your lot goblin, isn't that that dailylife you like to call it, and how by now you know it well my little goblin yet that dailylife of yours was never the real point here anyway was it..." whispered death out of the shadows somewhere, adding "...so you've lost your barrings in all this dailylife of yours goblin, well then you only have to think of me here to know where and what the real game is at this point...", to which death continued with those some old lines of his again, saying "...ah the rules, well then let me explain, simply it's like hide and seek with me, I close my eyes and count on, meanwhile you have to figure it out, as much as you possibly can, before I come for you, though the only thing is, and perhaps to make this game a little more interesting for us then, is that I don't actually tell you which number I'm counting to, nor what exactly you're supposed to find out here, while no doubt those two crooks of your distracting dailylife and that moneygod will try to waylay you to their own ends once more, in other words my friend, just think of this as a "last post" game for real goblin, and let's see how you fare with it now..."


60

 

"Great post flea, that last one there about death!" laughed Dejavu, believing humans could yet cheat the old reaper of those grimmest tidings, the lie of nothingness, of ultimate defeat by meaninglessness, and of madness being the final score in facing them with anything more alive than lies and defeat. His belief alone would hardly help him however. "Most humans imagine laughter to have a sorry side!" he said, "And so their surprise shall be their finest for all that it matters!"

 

("...thanks, it really helps me to repost these posts here where that one I have reposted many times by now across forumland, but there are others that either are ill worded or badly matched that improve by either rewording or rematching them then, hence this forum comes in very handy..." mentioned the goblin continuing on)

repost from elsewhere, the "what are you doing" thread

the goblin had been talking to santa, saying "...look, to be honest with you, I think I am a little bit too old for those electric train sets and meccano building kits at my advanced age, but, since we both know that I have been a very good goblin for many years now, what I would really like for christmas this year is a LHC, a large hadron collider that is, one like they have at CERN here, if only because it's a rather good mixture of both those toys don't you think, only bigger, ah but failing that, could you just make sure that we still have a christmas when CERN goes fully functional in november then...", "...ho ho ho, anything to please my goblin friend then, actually we can't afford a real LHC, what with this global recession right now, but I'll tell you what then, here's a model replica by lego instead..."


61

 

"Tidings? I must be mad! Let's give up death itself! Unlike life, it's futile trying to give it meaning." Dejavu, who'd been lucky enough to grow up with lego, knew it was an art medium, and was proud to see with the expanding range of pieces and colours how the kids were now sculpting with it. Like any art outside ourselves though, the puzzle was forever incomplete, the missing piece eluded us, or had it? Why hadn't they ever produced the double-sided plate for instance? He quickly photoshopped what he was talking about.




[edit: after a search, Dejavu discovers 'mega bloks' with their inferior plastic has already done it. "They stole you lego, time to get your own back!" ]

 

"...nice post Dejavu, you're making me think again..." went the goblin continuing "...a long way to go in my editing posts here still, where if I live that long I'll be post a post a day for many years yet, just that the times are not what they were where perhaps they were never really safe anyway, but today having eaten from the fruit of knowledge this garden of eden it is not, no the trouble is that one can't unknow once one knows, I am cast out of my own complacency, perhaps being the dumb sheep was a better choice after all, the knowing wolf just knows where this is all going without being able to change that fate that follows from that knowledge..."

 

repost from elsewhere

"...well, to claim some belief to be the truth is folly mortals..." repeated the goblin, continuing "...it's as if one is just trying to convince oneself of something one doesn't really know then, and that somehow to believe in it will curry favor with some divinity to which that belief belongs to, will it, prove it, one can't, why, because at the end of the day, whatever one says to oneself, one still doesn't know for sure, one only believes it...", and with that the goblin couldn't remember how many times he had faced this point in his understanding then, it was as if all he could actually go on was "what he knew" and "what he could know", so knowing had to come from here then, facing one's beliefs through doubt, "...look, to know oneself on the outside, one simply has to reflect upon one's actions, but how does one get to know oneself on the inside I wonder, well isn't that where one's posting comes into focus and what those posts reflect of one here...", which was the point where the voice inside him seemed to go "...so, what do your posts tell you about yourself then goblin...", "...only that it's ever this journey to self while there's still time, that's all for now then..."


61

 

repost from elsewhere, the woman's interests "last post" thread

"...of course a man will jump into the burning building, or the coldest of seas, to rescue you, just like he will fight for those he loves, and for whatever he feels to be right too, and no doubt even die for anything where his reason tells him that must do so, only that this sentiment has nothing to do with "love" per say, no, the sentiment is towards his benchmark of "death" and his altruistic deathwish then..." the goblin explained a bit more, saying "...are not war, exploration, self sacrifice, and adventure, in part, based on a man's benchmark of death here, where living on without pride is not the default benchmark of a man, no, somewhere within him is this deathwish that tells him, that to die for something is in itself a release from that self doubt and self condemnation at having to "live on", yes, to actually die for something becomes the vindication to himself or a veneration towards it, simply he will always go back into those flames, that sea, etc., if left to his own choice, so the roll of society in general, and his family too, has been to keep him out of harm's way, as if diverting for attention, appeasing his ego, for otherwise, left alone, a feeling of inadequacy towards himself or his lot takes over, in short, a man needs a reason to "live on" here, meaning that to live isn't the default "on" as one might think, no, the default in an average man is actually set to "off" as in must die for it or I'm not a man, where simply the opportunity was constantly denied to him...", in fact, wherever the goblin looked now, he saw this default "off" working in practice, unmentioned, unacceptable perhaps, but all so evident when one could recognise its features, the romance of death is a man's default "off" within him


60

 

repost from elsewhere, life's angels again

"...everyone thinks, that they could have amounted to more then, overlooking what they have already amounted to, simply, the fact that they have survived till now that is, living is winning then..." mentioned the goblin, who could just as easily flog himself with might have beens conjectures as to throw them all back into the sea of speculation here, adding "...and yet, I wonder if I would have either seen, or posted anything, if I had actually been satisfied with myself and my lot by now, so tell me then, to what do I actually owe my awareness to, to those good things, or to those bad things, in my life, where didn't I really need both..."


61

 

"The Magician was here.... " said the Magician...

 

("...I am always here too..." replied the goblin who came here everyday without fail, adding "...one feeds on the reads here, one then takes one's pen and then claim the thought for myself building upon it, yes that's me here, and I will never end to it ends...")

repost from elsewhere

looking back, the goblin wondered if it actually mattered all these years later, where those politicians had settled out of court in some country far across the water from here, and yet that water under the bridge seemed ever murky still, as if those great moments of nixon's downfall and of clinton's impeachment seemed somehow betrayed by this "gore/bush election result" and by the political horse trading that followed in its wake, so the goblin simply asked "...well then, was it or wasn't it rigged, and will the voters ever get to learn the truth of it, for whose democracy is it if not those voter's vote then..."


61

 

"And what prophecy would that be?" asked the Goblin.

To which the Magician respondend; "Read the following scrolls, and all will be revealed."

The Chronicles of Forumland...

The Magician, the Imperatrix, and the Rebellion​

 

("...well, now that have read your link I understand better and will be observing the outcome with interest..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin had lost the plot for the sub plot again, saying "...cunning little critters these sub plots are too, you think you know what it's all about, the answer to it all, etc., and then suddenly something happens and those sums don't add up anymore, as one just realizes one has been had by one's own complacency towards the real plot again, and how the sub plot mocks one here...", while outside the bistro, a cool post rain morning on the goblin's day off just casually echoed this sentiment to him once more, "just another day like any other in rat race city" then, with yet more "start line births" for some people, and "finish line deaths" for others, where for the rest of us there was ever this ongoing track between those two lines then, with umpteen hurdles of sub plots to meet on the way, where somewhere in all this was the real plot then something that was ever elusive as if laughing at one here, perhaps hidden in full view even


61

 

"I will cast a long distance spell," the Magician told the Goblin; "that your day might be made better. Perhaps that little leaf swimming in the puddle carries the part of the plot you are missing... or is it that whiff of wind?

 

"Here," The Magician remarked; "the most important piece of the plot:"

"Quisquis amat taliter, volvitur in rota."​

 

Dejavu read the thread as always, and was pleased. "Necessity, what a mother!" he laughed, never having known it to be anything but reflection. "Sorry to be gone a few days, but I was down with some bug, the sort of thing humans often can't help but run afoul of in their wanderings." Dejavu had been thinking of his words 'Let's give up death itself', of the great difficulty they presented, and of fleas words:

"Well then, it's easy!" he said, knowing it wasn't really. "The average must be shown not to exist!" Living for our ideals, as them, was the trick, the turning of fortune through love, but just how fortunate did one have to be in the first place for such a feat? "Our best bet's still through beauty" he opined, "the only place our intelligence truly continues to desire its communication, that joy may be found, and held!" Dejavu couldn't wring life from his words, nor would he try to, and breathing life into them was just as absurd to his dancing spirit. "The moneygod, well, I give up on that one, but dailylife? Perhaps we can..." Perhaps Dejavu could finish the sentence in his readers imaginations.
:-D