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

("...well Jats, I never give up on anywhere, creating the newest stuff one busy forums in replies, and editing stuff on quieter forums to comb out the typos..." mentioned the goblin who once banned from xerq just forgot that forum now, saying "...what's it with old fart on nonewbs, seems an idiot for sure but you're dealing with him nicely, and you'll make that 20,000hits in spite of what he says...")

repost from elsewhere

"...ah this madness..." repeated the goblin to himself, as in the right side of his brain writing out those visions conceived on its left side of his brain, while actually presuming too, that between his coffee and the music, he could somehow escape outside himself by it, madness indeed he knew, "...well it's all practice for my old age then..." the goblin joked now, not really joking though, for he would never retire as in just vegetate in some merlin's cave, adding "...ah no not I, one's persona is a serious proposition here, especially when the alternative, that of an increasingly stark sane old age, is just telling one each time to go for it and go for it bigtime too...", somehow the question was never what the goblin would eventually become on the outside, for that was obvious to anyone, no the real question was what lay within him then, and whether he could actually get to it through the practice of posting


70

 

...yes xerq where that couldn't possibly have been my fault, could it? I can't tell sometimes and then sometimes I'll hold my hand up, and old fart is just another old fart caught with his hand in the cookie jar too many times to sustain any argument really, but it's hard to resist my training now...

"...sweet Jesus..." chuckles Jats in no way coming over all religious, far from it "...so you're a fucking teacher in the yoo ess hey..." Jats refills his glass "...that explains everything then..." as Jats mind goes back to his old art teacher randomly, where not for his class was the gorgeous dirty looking blond bit of stuff that Jats still dreams of on occasion, probably his first crush thinking back, who was teaching the sixth form with her superb camel toe winking and her cute little ass walking down the corridors driving young hormones wild, no we had to suffer the insufferable Mr Twat in his beige clothes, glasses and cravat who never gave Jats good marks after his depiction of Jesus's Mom entitled 'The Virgin Whore' with one of her tits hanging out as young Jats found his weakness then "...and another good reason why I teach my lot to question everything their teachers tell them and still pointing out their usual fallacies and insecurities for them though rarely needed these days as they spot them too and tell me tales of there own educators now which is so delightful and saves me the bother then..."

 

repost from elsewhere

the goblin could always relate to that post, saying "...the old ways are gone now, while today's ways seem permanent by comparison, yet it's only an illusion of permanence, as everything outside of oneself is undergoing change, while, that which is within oneself too, is maturing in its way, so the only thing that remains constant throughout in one's life is the thin link between those two then, the connection between the outside and inside of oneself that is, simply all except for being alive is in flux and moves on...", so somehow, by its inevitable change then, it was just so easy to resent one's reality on the outside by growing bitter on the inside as so many people eventually did it seemed, "...ah but, who wins here, you or your dailylife..." asked the goblin to himself often enough when he had had to let go of someone again, or something for that matter, adding "...oh yes, on the outside, one's dailylife owns everything for sure, it might offer you its gifts according to the season of your life, where one can't get away from time's passing, no independence from dailylife, but only a real fool surrenders his soul to something in dailylife only to grow bitter when that season passes then, so who wins here, someone who is bitter that the season has passed, or someone who is happy from within now, in other words it's you yourself or your dailylife that wins here..."


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repost from elsewhere

"...true, perhaps if I could ever really get these posts right to myself I wouldn't need to continue here, since I would already know for sure what I am actually thinking...", so part of the goblin at this point was living his life normally, yes, but another part of him was watching the slide of the dollar under the largest debt in america's short history, adding "...so it seems that our distractions are wearing thin now, and yes, you and I might be helpless here, but I promise now that I won't look the other way while this happens, patriotism is, at its base, knowing by heart those principals that one holds to towards one's country, and holding one country to them..."

[noparse]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=yHdh2s38bAQ[/noparse]


71 923 23892

 

repost from elsewhere

"...ah yes, your dailylife is just trying to bind you to its bidding, offering you such fears and hungers as to cause you to lose focus, where if you judge yourself by its standards, then yes, you'll hunger for that which you once had, and for that which you don't have yet, while fearing the loss of the little which you now have, simply you're connecting your soul directly and playing its game under its rules..." ventured the goblin who never quite forgot those time he had conversed with those who were departing on that lupusbot site, who, by the fact that they were actually dying, really had nothing bar that which was fundamentally important, adding "...instead, let go and let dailylife lose this round, for compared to them what right have any of us to feel unhappy now, for isn't one's internal far more important than one's external, yet most of you humans get your priorities back to front and thus suffer from your clinging to that which wasn't really yours to keep anyway..."



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repost from elsewhere, chatting with another livewriter

"...you're writing well xxxxx where one's innate ability to write is at the base of all this I suppose, even though most people feel that they can't be writers, nor this to be writing because they it isn't "published", as if it were that publishing world, and not the actual readers, who decided what was be read..." ventured the goblin, adding "...but then again, if it's not the writing side of posting that appeals to you, I suppose I could mention that your posts reflect you now, or that they increase your ability to write and illustrate, or simply that these posts are entries your diary this, yes all good reasons to continue perhaps, but if I were to confess my own reason for posting to you...", at which point the goblin smiled at the thought once more, continuing "...I would put it figuratively then I want to cover the walls of merlin's cave with meaningful imagery to myself, which is after all where most people's in their old age ends up, so my writing will be my imagination's escape from my old age, thus it's the practice of posting, rather than what gets posted, that matters to me, so I am painting now, painting against an old age that I might never come to me..."


71

 

repost from elsewhere,

"...probably you're right then, for you won't understand this thread till you have written something yourself that doesn't quite fit anywhere else..." replied the goblin, adding "...oh yes, you can write absolutely anything here, and yet only that which feels right will do....", whereupon the goblin reached for his coffee a moment before he then continued "...simply at some point you'll get to know your creative side and it becomes addictive...", where what with it being his day off, and with his sunny bistro morning stretched before him too, the muse, ever like that mythological siren, was calling him towards her for the goblin knew that his dailylife had nothing to offer in comparison now, thus the goblin gave into his addiction again, confessed "...well they do say old age is a shipwreck thus I crash myself upon the keyboard and flounder in a rising tide of thoughts, but the point of life was never one's longevity here where my dailylife is a safe haven that I can stay stuck if I like in but I'd rather die at sea so to speak..."



70

 

...I'm going to edit some old posts here...

"...better memory than me then..." as Jats feels a pang of self doubt for the first time ever on using that oft innocent throw away line with his fathers decline into Alzheimer's being finally official now "...though if you type in the quote in quotes, like so "drinking is just an acceptably slow form of suicide" the following link shows up, of which there will be others to follow too no doubt now, and so, according to google, the fountain of most of your readers knowledge, like I said then, voilà! Flea wrote that... unless of course I beat him to it then, and post last one more time then..." Jats smiles here at doing it again then today

http://www.google.com/search?q="drinking is just an acceptably slow form of suicide"

 

...from a number of the "it's all obama's fault" threads out there...

"...but back to Obama tho, and as a Brit here looking in it has been a real eye opener to see the level of hate aimed at your president particularly considering the state the last bozo left you in, yet its often the way as empires decline, we Brits should know all about that one, so you better get used to it with your trillion dollar debt, and printing even more dollars is not going to get you out of this one, just devaluing the dollar even more, though I think you should get behind the free health care and more welfare bills, as a lot more of you are going to be needing it, unless they get you building Dams again, but, despite the mess you are in, America will go on despite what lies ahead, if only because of its unswerving blind patriotism, no matter what then..."

 

("...I always use these threads for exactly that purpose then..." replied the goblin rereading Jats posts now, and who somehow understood that his own posts didn't really come together until after a few postings, adding "...I don't think anything will happen now until after christmas but europe is quickly slipping in regionalism as seen by the tit for tat between geneva and the surrounding france, where the french are going to tax their countrymen 11% tax if they work here in geneva, and levy a 17% tax on any swiss who work here and live in france, and the tax for those swiss who just own homes in france, but don't the french are alone in this because geneva is going to hold a vote about whether to continue to allow the french to work here in light of these french taxes...", just the times were turning protectionist while the goblin himself could worry about the future, just like he often tried to figure out his past too, but to no avail it seems)

repost from elsewhere

"...my swiss passport I suppose..." replied the goblin whose mind was elsewhere continuing off on its usual tangent again "...though the cakes in geneva's bistros are mostly portuguese in style, "egg upon egg with eggs between them", spongelike, great with coffee though not a patch on those british fruitcakes now, and yes, if there were one thing that keeps body and soul together in the face of that abysmal british climate, it's a slice of pungent smelling slightly sweetened british fruitcake to a mug of full bodied indian tea complete with floating teabag and all, slowly savored, perhaps while looking out across at that drenching rain again, and just appreciating that one is inside look out upon it, in the warm that is, watching on, alone, save perhaps for a steadily ticking kitchen clock that seemed to bounce its slow escaping mechanism into rewarding ticks and tocks of contemplation here...", much like the old clock in his goblin's childhood kitchen once did, adding "...ah yes, I'm afraid they don't make time clocks like they used to back then, for today those seconds tick far too quickly..."


70

 

...yes and there's nothing we can do about it, a repost then...

"...boy what a weekend, watching the glorious pigskin games, eating, drinking, shitting, farting, fucking and merrily accomplishing nothing much here in the shire, where the weather was lovely, warm and sunny, a last farewell to summer before the fall and other than putting a tarp up as a sun/shower canopy I've managed quite successfully to do fuck all then..." smiles Jats returning from the gentle clutches of daily life for a while "...and if you looked at forumland you would think nothing was happening either, no big news today, despite the bullshit churned out by ourdermedia, yet all the little clues are there for all to see as more little I've lost my job threads appear day by day, week by week, more working multiple dead end part time jobs admitted to in the real talk sections to pay the bills and loans, and more accepting zero hours contracts as the only alternative to starvation..." declares Jats munching on a sandwich now "...and it's growing world wide, seeing as the benefits system here is moving more towards the American model and with the likes of Greece and Spain cutting all unemployment benefits completely and so Europe is bubbling under with a sea of under twenty fives all trained up virtually and ready to go into the armies, seeing as there is no fight left in them now, though if only we could have stopped it all somehow while sitting on our arses..." and then Jats comes up with a cunnijng plan "...but if women got conscripted too in this new national service proposal, as they should, equal rights and all that, then that should put a stop to such silly nonsense I bet you then..." sniggers the chameleon wiping the marker pen from his hands with no shame now

http://services.parliament.uk/bills/2013-14/nationalservice.html

http://www.change.org/en-GB/petitions/uk-government-stop-the-national-service-bill-2013-14

 

..cuntybollocks a double post...

 

("...well, things are only getting worse here too..." replied the goblin suspecting that the gradual worsening was the only thing that stopped it from exploding, adding "...france from some time in the next year wants to ban all private medical insurance by running its own medical insurance instead, but guess what happens when there is no competition within the state monopoly, yes up goes the prices and down goes the productivity, so welcome to the soviet union of state run enterprises...")

repost from elsewhere, the subject being SCT as in Social Constructionist Theories

“...anyway, identities need something to be identified by, and to be identified means one has an identity does it not, therefore "social classification" exists only within the context of this relationship of a “classifying society” on the one hand, and the effort of the “self classification” of the individual on the other, so it is within this cross identification then, that both those “traits of identification” - as seen in: fashion, moral stance, physical attributes, possessions and mental qualities - are recognized, and where “social judgments” - as seen in: encouraged, tolerated, or discouraged - are passed, either by the society that is, or by the individual here...” but the goblin was anonymous, perhaps he couldn't claim to have an identity until society had identified him, perhaps the goblin felt too that there were three levels of recognition here, “stereotyping” which is a base classification, “classification” which is base identification, and actual “identification” which was where those traits matched, “...alas you will identify me by my traits then..." mused the goblin again, as if knowing that someone anonymous would rarely act out of character, adding "....funny how our identities just seem mere byproducts of some simple socially recognized traits then...”, as once more the goblin's mind drifted in and out of his thoughts while yet another day passed on around him, mind you his days rarely seemed to do anything else but pass by in their daily fashion, perhaps they seemed to laugh at goblin's assumption of his importance in even needing an identity then


71

 

"...yes monstrous isn't it and in reverse here the power company cartel are getting away with pushing prices up in the guise of investing in the infrastructure of course, where we all know by now it's lining their pockets, and so with faux competition in a so called free market, the prices go up even higher bleeding the peasants dryer and then cuts are made to the bone to satisfy the shareholders continuing greed until there is nothing left, or it's sold to china, but then we gave it to them via this non participatory democracy that we have to put up with..." argues Jats smiling having had a perfect day with his new old chainsaw that arrived this morning and which has been put straight to work this afternoon performing beautifully in one hand or two "...where I have been quite amused by the furore caused by our dear own Russell Brand here who, whatever you think of him darlings, has got a few salient points and has had least had a little stab at the cunts, drawn a touch of blood, perhaps, where who knows, it may start a trend amongst these pointless celebrities, the rock stars, and even the writers might stop churning out the same old trite and join in too... who knows we could start a revolution, before the French beat us to it again..."

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=xDe1pJ9hCEE"]Russell Brand wants to start a revolution (Newsnight, 23.10.13) - YouTube

 

...and have my latest "have you tried Linux" post from elsewhere too then...

"...Olivia..." Jats whispers " ...OLIVIA, OLIVIA, OLIVIA..." he shouts now getting louder on each one "...or you could try, Olivia..." insists Jats picking up his guitar now in the little cottage by the canal thinking maybe if it was put to music the message might get through somehow "...testing, testing, one two three..." Jats clears his throat picks out the intro riff deftly and then sings along "...Olivia Oliiivia, Olivia Oliiivia, Olivia Oli iv ya..." where the chameleon, who has tried everything now, merely shrugs and skulks off somewhere else then while regular readers get bonus points if they can name that tune then

http://www.linuxmint.com/download.php

 

...oh how I love editing posts...

Jats smiles at the girls dashing past his window running for cover squealing at the sound of the thunder "... you know I still wonder where its coming from, the next big move the roll of the dice, though I know its going to come from the East while the West is now wondering what to do now that they have made themselves all bankrupt, or nearly then, remembering in the past how it only takes a slight shift in direction, or just one man or woman even, perhaps the next great invention..." as Jats curses 'fecking kids' from stepping on another sharp piece of plastic that has found its way out of the box mysteriously"...and as politics has become inert and flaccid will that prove to be the catalyst for thinking its worth the risk for one man, one woman, or one nation then, to roll the dice on top of us..."

 

("...there's always something very Jatslike in your posts Jats, they're good reads too..." went the goblin never missing a post by him, adding "...me too then, linux mint 15 and happy as larry, firefox with downloadhelper plugin, soundconverter for streams to mp3, etc., and I'm looking out for a tablet to convert to mint but as yet I don't if there is one, so I'm waiting till I'm sure...")

repost from elsewhere, talking with another livewriter

the goblin laughed, saying "...it's nice to see that I am not the only one mad here, plus that picture is perfect, and you're matching your texts imaginatively too, posting evolves, suddenly one is posting for real now, not for others but for something within, the real question being "what in my life is worth posting", isn't that what this game is all about now...", and although the goblin's posting output waxed and wained, he was incapable of going without posting for long, saying "...ah no, seems those ghosts of one's past don't die with time, instead they only wait for their moment when one is ready to face them, that's all, so perhaps all this posting is my way of giving each memory the coup de grâce that they're waiting for..."


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...and rakarak guitar effects processor works a treat too on Olivia, plus all the usual goodies where all the while being absolutely free, it's a no brainer really...

the chameleon knew he could smell windows and coughs and retches at the mention of it "...well you could always run linux from a pen drive on the works computer and not bother with any of their silly software at all, that would confuse them, or almost any other computer lying around, specially as mint 15 really is out of the box now, no brain required and so ready to wean the masses off windows with all those software packages that are worse than all those virus's sometimes..." smiles Jats explaining while typing away on one of those cheap little acer ones that was bought for peanuts as if to prove the point that anyone can do it then, it's open systems, it's free, forever and ever and very clever "...but as usual don't take my word for it, try it, what you got to lose..." suggests Jats here in the dead of a warm autumnal night still pottering about before bed enjoying this madness now

http://www.linuxmint.com/download.php

 

repost from elsewhere,

and with that the goblin showed saying "...see what happens when you mix your real-life selves with you internet personas, it just gives people the rod by which to flay one by, whereas now, if you had remained anonymous, what could they have hurt you with...", in fact, the goblin simply understood that in the end most forums folded or migrated, that their members came and went, that threads would die out, and silence would prevail, like death in dailylife too, so no, the goblin felt tha something more fundamental had to be sought from forumland here, saying "...look, it isn't what people say or think of you that matters when one is actually anonymous, ah no, it's getting into the habit of posting before one is too old to perfect it, just you against your own old age once more, you against your dailylife too, for it's too easy to waste one's short little life on all that superficiality, where instead an amazing journey to self lies within one, and where in the end you alone remain the one constant throughout this existence here, not some forum, nor its members, just you yourself alone upon as endless expanse of forumland here, now do you see it for what it is..."


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...only one typo in this one this time, getting there...

Jats laughs at that "...no writers are more miserable than most, that's mainly why they write..." and then goes back to sitting in his stupor searching for words to fit the mood not quite finding the right quote, or phrase that fits the situation to make a move from the sofa, though they will come, and if not, someone else's words will do, perhaps bastardize a few, cutting and pasting to suit, or make some up even, to sum up this feeling again that was thought long gone welded by the arse here and eyeing those boots in the corner that seem heavy once more. Yes the words will come, as Jats must go on, saddled with this promise made, for the only love that is unconditional will see him through each time it comes to stand atop the precipice and laugh 'no you will not get me that easily' then turning back, putting one foot in front of another, slowly walking away from the edge to be their rock no matter what where whatever they end up thinking they will never say of Jats 'he didn’t love me enough' as all that matters in the end is just being there then