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

repost from elsewhere

"...just that mundane habits kill so slowly in their repartition goblin..." the witchdoctor smiled again, continuing "...and the older one gets the more those mundane habits just lull one's senses to one's diminished ability here...", simply the newspaper had reported that most accidents involving people over 65 were from crossing the road while being hit by some passing car, "...you see goblin, those old people probably thought that they still were who they had always been, that their bodies could still react in time, so the accidents occur through their complacency towards their own age...", the bistro seemed empty now, the night's cold crept in with the occasional deep cold draft but not enough to stir anyone away form their seats, the goblin propped his chin on palm on his hand as the witchdoctor just smiled between these perceptive lines at him, "...still angry at you're shared fate of old age goblin, you are aren't you, you shouldn't be though, it's all too far ahead in the future for anyone to care about today, neither for society in general, nor for the individual now, to care about all this then, that soon enough this slowly ageing population will become the majority in our developed countries, and that one will there too, as an old person amongst thousands of others, oh, yes one might put money aside but who doesn't know that those pension systems are unsustainable and that inflation devalues everything, just as one might also keep oneself mentally and physically fit too, aware that ever so many will suffer some years of dementia where one might have to look after one's spouse or parent awhile, but you can't expect anyone to live their lives today according to some final end way into one's future goblin, any more than one would expect society to address or even hint about this problem through ourdearmedia now, no, simply it's another little something beyond everyone's ability to envisage and society's ability to coop, so as such, like death perhaps, it doesn't exist to them in this present time, just that old age is a bridge goblin, one that's coming for sure if one lives, yes, but one can't cross that bridge till one gets there so just accept it and cast your thoughts elsewhere...", so the goblin took the advice and cast his thoughts elsewhere but for how long he knew not


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repost from elsewhere

the goblin looked at the american economy, not so much by the dow jones standard as by the dollar in one's pocket, saying "...it is just a conjecture on my part, but let's say someone offered you a choice between being saddled with a debt in 1000 US dollars, or one of its equivalent in Mexican pesos, I imagine you would go for the Mexican debt, rather than US one, the "why/because" being that it is just easier to wipe off a debt that has decreasing value...", the goblin paused for a second, then continued "...well then, since the US can't in any way pay back its trillion's of dollars debt at this point, it has instead printed more dollars today than at any point in its previous history, where of course without actually telling you that they're using icy dicey, aka inflation caused devaluation of currency as their instrument to alleviate their debt here...", yet the goblin so much wanted to be wrong about his conjecture now, and how he saw things progressing here, and about this notion of icy dicey and the half life of money here, but that's the way it looked he felt


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...that's MY picture... this old post instead then...

"...haven't read all this, I might though if I haven't already guessed right, but what you see before you dear readers in this thread is modern America in plain sight..." Jats chuckles having a lazy day off as the rain lashes down which is long overdue and so Jats types away huddled up in the little cottage by the canal, marvelling at forumland once more while occasionally nipping out and checking on the tarp that needs adjusting "...yes here it is, high youth unemployment, education for the rich not the poor, and for all your smarts and certificates your stuck in a dead end job that doesn't even cover your bills that sends you into a downward spiral until up pops the military, or religion, or usually both, as your only hope, a way of survival and then they have got you by jove, by the fucking balls cus your too chicken shit to end it all..." the chameleon snarls deliciously "...so what are you waiting for, what you got to lose huh? You are plugged into the most sophisticated technological wonder the world has ever seen with unlimited power and what are you doing with it, nothing..." scoffs Jats back from nudging the tarp with a slightly wet left arm "...look kid, things are tough, you're just waking up and so of course reality is confusing especially now all that those dreams that they spun you since the cradle didn't turn up, as if by magic. Even though you worked hard, you did good, just like they said you should and yet here you are now..." Jats passes the kid a beer, though sticks to his tea here "...go, what you got to loose, do something, work in a kibbutz, go teach kids in south america, save the rain forest, you wouldn't be the first or the last beat nick drop outs, write a book, or just facetwit and film your little mini revolution or something, but if you get a bit radical in the process of this awakening, probably best to stay anonymous then..." smiles Jats putting his waterproofs on now to go adjust that tarp as kindling has to be kept dry somehow for come the revolution then you still gotta stay warm and dry

 

"America, eh?"

a repost then on the topic of America and economy ...

A repost from another place where one asked about the situation in America ...

"America, pfff," the little mouse says as she rises to refill her mug. "Why would America matter in the grand scheme of things? Shouldn't humans look at China, India, Russia? Those are emerging economies rather then declining, shrinking. There is where the up from the low this Western Civilisation has created must come from." She turns over the device in her hand and reads 'Made in China' then reaches over to the collar of her companion she reads the label in there 'Made in Sri Lanka', and the coffee she drinks comes from Africa. "What brings America to the world but an economy built on greed? Why should the greater world care how things are in the USA? Isn't America the bully on the playground? The boy with the biggest mouth and ready fist? To become the one all look at for solutions." She laughs. "It's no surprise when most of humanity consists of sheep and they rather flock together and thus create a false sense of security that America has become a 'Superpower' a self-appointed sheriff of the world."

 

repost from elsewhere

"...ah no, the only win here is the one wins against oneself, and besides, wouldn't you like to know who you by what you post..." replied the goblin who clearly understood that it wasn't what one wrote so much as it's continuation that actually mattered here, adding "...well now, often people who can't be arsed finally lose that power to write imaginatively, becoming sad in merlin's cave regretting that they hadn't tried to write all those years back...", no, the goblin was selfish, not caring who else did or didn't post, only that he knew too, that if he himself didn't at least try to perfect his posting, he would be living his life merely for those externals that dailylife held here, adding "...yes it's all too easy to become the donkey in pinocchio but afterwards one can't then blame one's dailylife for that indifference one had shown towards one's posts, for these days, and this constant chance too, are passing now, where dailylife's externals are eventually returned to dailylife through the aging process, and where old age is merlin's cave though one's imagination was never one of those externals, no it was always there for the harnessing of it, just why I write I suppose..."


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repost from elsewhere, fighting trolls again

"..nah, I don't think anyone cares, least of all me now, as to whether you read my posts or not, where isn't the first rule to all this post for yourself since one's readers are not real, no, lose sight of that point and all this becomes fake..." replied the goblin wondering how "being read" or "being liked" could possibly matter to someone who remained anonymous throughout, "...well, first I could write a thousand dud posts and then manage to do one good post where all prior to that one post would have been worth it for me even..." continuing "...well now, until you can come up with some better posts yourself you can cling to my shirttails here and heckle away though I seriously doubt anyone will care for your opinion without your posts on offer as an alternative..."


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repost from elsewhere, the "writing styles" thread

"...and quite right too, for if you ever write correctly, then you'll betray your age, and much more too, by the gap between that which you write and what you should have written..." replied the goblin again with a smile and a slide of a finger like see my point, then continuing "...whereas, if you contort your writing style, even a little bit now, you'll leave them guessing as to your age, ever if it's an age after all that you can't prove anyway...", in fact, the goblin used to write normally, and yet he had always seemed so much older when he did so, saying "...ah yes, that persona of me back then was much older indeed, so much so that today is would seem like I have no age to speak of..."


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repost from elsewhere, the goblin moderating, a dating site

"...let's look at it this way, either you are someone like myself who wishes to remain anonymous, or you are someone who wishes to meet others online here..." started the goblin again, continuing "...well then, if like me you are in the "anonymous" camp, surely getting one's post right to oneself takes preference over who has, or hasn't, done whatever in their dailylife, whereas if you are in the "meet and greet" camp then people will remember you clearly by what you write here, and perhaps think twice about approaching you because of it..." so perhaps it was now time to decide, which goal one had here and whether it was in one's interests to continue all this infighting then


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repost from elsewhere,

the goblin welcomed everyone to this thread, saying "...ah now, to post is to win against one's deailylife, yes, but one's dailylife then builds up around one after posting, so one has to win again repeatedly like pruning back the externals each time...", and then, once more, the path of the goblin's imagination stretched before him here, where he could write absolutely anything upon that path and win this moment by it, that much he knew, but he also knew too, that he would then have to live with what he had posted, saying "...you see, in dailylife it's all too clear who one is as there is that mirror, one's bank statement, certificates of education, one's passport, one's family ties, and all the rest too that goes up to make that "you" that you've always known yourself by, and yet here on this forumland, there is only that which you post to know your virtual self by, simply here you are what you post of yourself so you post your posts and somehow you see yourself by them, in short you win a glimpse of that self here that is normally hidden by all those externals out there..."


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repost from elsewhere, someone talking about the loss of their loved ones

the goblin's mind was torn between the two previous posters now, certainly the benchmark of this thread seemed as high as it seemed deep, "...can't quite remember the witchdoctor's spell then, think it went pain to open one's eyes..." mentioned the goblin at it, adding "...can't change the past today nor return to it neither, but at least a sobriety of born of one's past suffering, simply one isn't the same person afterwards, but just perhaps too one is more aware of what is actually important in one's life by the pain and loss within it..."


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...ooh good, new ones, I can tell by the pictures, I'll read them later... a repost from long ago when travelling about...

"...that's a rather general statement though you may have been lucky in the women you have met then, for I have met some right mad cows in my time, and selfish to the extreme where as a result one or two looked a million dollars, no matter how they got it, and one or two were just psychotic and still crawling into my nightmares on occasion, but plenty a male makes an appearance there too, some are, some are not..." Jats munches on his toast "...but in the main we are all selfish, though it's always nice to meet an altruist (unless they are just being vain glorious), a giving open hand, the human in all of us then..." as the chameleons back shivers now, sending him wary and on edge

 

...and one of my favourites...


"...I have met some remarkable people in my time and have to agree with Aristotle's claim that 'there is no great genius without a mixture of madness' where many of his contemporaries, as well as psychoanalysts, psychiatrists, and psychologists today agree with his statement and have argued that genius and madness are indeed linked to underlying degenerative neurological disorders. Amongst other notable studies, researchers at the Stanford University Medical Centre in 2002, ran a series of personality, temperament, and creativity tests to students studying creative or fine arts, design, and mechanical engineering. The test results showed that individuals in this group, were more likely to be moody and neurotic than a healthy control group. Moodiness and neuroticism were part of a group of characteristics these researchers used to identify mild, non-clinical forms of depression and bipolar disorder. So, yes..." concludes the chameleon "... you can be too smart for your own good you know..." meanwhile, Jats is happily passing on his inferior wisdom, in the shadow and relative ignorance of such higher things, and has just again, showed the boys that little trick of gathering some toilet paper to wipe around the bowl, after they have been for a shite, and before washing their hands of course, and then, whatever, women will love them forever perhaps

 

("...yes that was always one of your best, or the one I liked the most..." went the goblin)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin agreed that the forthcoming currency correction was almost amusing, well until one realized that one was probably dealing with the life savings of most people in the western world here, saying "... a currency correction normally starts with a loss of confidence in the financial system, resulting in high inflation, unemployment and bank runs, to which the government's first step is to resort to forced loans, coupled with a limit of withdrawals, as seen in argentina's currency correction, where as a result, people will then start to hoard money under their mattresses, to which the government will then introduce a new bank note thus forcing people to convert their hoard at a per person limitation, as seen in vietnam's currency correction, so people will hoard gold and silver instead, at which point the government does a bank enabling act which is the force buying of one's bullion, as seen in america's currency correction in 1932, resulting in the currency devaluing to the lowest level after which, seeing that a system-collapse resulting in anarchy is not their aim, things will go back to relative normal again, where the party that either instigated or witnessed this currency correction will lose the election having everyone believe that it is all over and that it won't or couldn't happen again, not realizing though that their new found state of poverty is, in fact, the spur to getting them more productive again in a system where too much wealth at the lower levels is counter productive...", so the goblin was just calmly watching its approach again, concluding "...funny how the ourdeamedia would have us look down at possible green shoots instead of viewing what's looming on the horizon..."


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...and that's one of my new favourites now, I'll nick some of that too then...

"...and of course do not forget the thief..." Jats laughs taking that train of thought with him, going off to chop some wood that has been acquired along the way "... a stealer of pictures, of ideals, and ideas, reasons and rhyme, for it has been done since the dawn of time, original, you, me, no, no, we are all just copies, for is imitation the sincerest form of flattery, are we not all the sum of mentors gone, perhaps some remain, and to ignore lessons given free, without payment, or any gain, just sheer stupidity, a gathering of self inflicted pain, and from the bit of you that remains, comes originality then..."

 

...and so my request for that post to be posted elsewhere too then, reposted here now in reply then...

"...nothing to read then, other than some prick trying to kill himself live on the internet, which is nothing new these days and won't end there for sure..." surmises Jats with a little laugh at a private joke while checking in now at the slot back from a very boring meeting on a grey Tuesday in the shire, though no doubt will venture out later for some fun amongst the humans "...yes we had those bands at the weekend in our little market town, one at each end of the closed off road where their music blended on the wind magically in the middle at times, so I was told, with the second leftenant and her friend shopping with the throngs while I enjoyed a delightful two hours away from their twittering, yes one has to appreciate the distractions that this time throws up with both of them protesting the cost and absurdity of it all as they pass gifts, favours, trinkets and little notes around amongst themselves, bonding gently, as they have done from ancient times I s'pose..." as once again Jats quietly left them to it and sat peacefully on his arse for a moment while working out what really is going on then "...yes it's a bloody good smoke screen isn't it xmas, handy, where we always blame everything on the winter anyway, us Brits, huddled together in the surprise of it all each year while the Danes still laugh at our silly ways, though they'll not be plundering this time round, it will be ourselves in the end..." chuckles Jats satisfied enough at the level of crypticness now "...c'mon flea, tell em what's coming next, post that marvellous post I have just read elsewhere now..." asks Jats, getting up and deciding to go out and chop some wood, at the least, just in case then

 

....just editing...

"...yes as YouTube kick started the music industry back into life, releasing it from the stranglehold of the few and back to the many, are we now at the start of a renaissance for books too, for there has been no YouTube for them, but the technology is coming with i-things whizzing off the shelves..." splicing two old posts together the chameleon demonstrates "...and the beauty of live writing is that it can change on every edit, before every re-post, getting better and better, honed to perfection, especially those annoying spelling mistakes, whereas the book and the blog is set in stone, only the sequel, or annoying prequel allowed, whereas, with live writing you can ebb and flow, acquiring a bigger audience, a following, wherever you go, going forwards, breaking free, not trapped by convention, but not a franchise too neither, yes more like musicians jamming using the same scales and notes in a pattern of unpredictability and impressions of self then..." adds Jats feeding off these new posts now, throwing a little fill in here and there to add to the mix

 

("...teeth problems, been like hell of late, a buildup of pain, till finally the extraction then..." went the goblin who wasn't himself yet, but was back to posting)

repost from elsewhere

the goblin was thinking about that phrase you can fool some of the people all the time, as you can fool all of the people some of the time, but you can't fool all of the people all the time, saying "...just a reflection on my part, but surely no one would know that one has fooled all of the people all the time because they would all be fooled by it..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...sorry, no deal there, for if ever I simply waited upon others here to post then the forum would die though some mutual restraint here..." replied the goblin out to edit his posts while he still could, and where too, he tried to create a new post a day, hardly something that seemed rushed in a life that was silently slipping away in each of those unnoticed moments, continuing "...let's see, I imagine that you see these posts as those upon this thread amongst many threads upon your forum, whereas I see this more as self-publishing on one of umpteen random threads across forumland, so yes, I'm both fickle and selfish towards each individual forum per se, preferring instead the security of forumland as a whole, selfish indeed, but the point remains perseverance regardless of banhammers and who else does or doesn't join in, where one's acceptance and resulting hitcount translates into being on the right forum doesn't it, and besides, although it's with what shall I post on with that keeps me at it year after year, I still need individual threads to coax me into production though replies and hitcount...", simply the goblin knew that he couldn't write by himself now, explaining "...yes being selfish and fickle are probably the two commonest traits upon forumland, where absolutely nothing here should matter because of one's anonymity in its transience.." and yet the goblin cared deeply as to if he had got each post right to himself now, so just perhaps these transient things in life held more value to him than those permanent things ever did, asking "...besides, what else other than the internal can one take into the future, I love life but it's not my to keep, it never was mine to keep..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...well all this posting is just practice for one's old age I suppose..." joked the goblin about this game now, though the goblin would never reach retirement and then just vegetate afterwards as so many humans did it seemed, "...ah no, a credible persona is a serious preposition according to mephistopheles, and if it's good enough for faust then I guess I'll sign up too..." yes, apparently mephistopheles been adamant in explaining that one's persona would serve one well in our final years as long as one slaved at creating it before one got there then..."


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...that tooth sorted flea? Mine was a right bugger, thank feck for modern western antibiotics... a repost...

"...yet, paradoxically we have all been shaped by war, in particular the gun, and ultimately has it not bought us peace in the final stand off, albeit as mini wars rage on, fuelled by the Kalashnikov and the pacifists dream of 'no more war' such a wish which could only be achieved with the disappearance of the human race, and not the gun, for even without the gun war would still rage as man would soldier on, no I see no Utopia on the horizon, other than the one I am in..." smiles Jats sitting snugly by the fire fiddling with his chainsaw and pondering on such things "...where if randomly I had been born elsewhere I would be slipping in a magazine, or making another car bomb on my coffee table and more worryingly, so could my sons, rather than just kicking a football about in the back yard now..."