the last person to post here wins

The Penguin was tired, but felt some need to entertain the Goblin so as to keep him returning. So, whilst his eyes and brain were still numb from the very uncomfortable sleep he had in the pouch of the energised Roo, he attempted not a last post, but just a post to keep the Goblin amused.

At least it was a post, thought the sleepy Penguin. That's all that matters...

("...I would return anyway, and you must not try to please me, you should just enjoy making posts here, when you feel like posting that is, certainly no one is forcing you to post here, promise..." said the goblin)

in fact no one knew if Obama was "any good", just that he was "so much better", and with that the goblin too put his faith in Obama, and yet the goblin also suspected this crash of 2009/10 was now imminent, and that any correction in the market could somehow be "delayed", "accepted in defeat", or "fought tooth and nail", or any mix of those scenarios perhaps then, and yet, still this crash would just flood in like a some financial tsunami, if only because it seems natural that these monitory faultlines inevitably and invariably correct themselves taking their investors and everyone else with them each time, "...here we are again then, any reason why this time is should be any different, bar in possible magnitude perhaps..." ventured the goblin

"...hi everyone, yes sorry, still squatting on the thread here..." said the goblin who was taking a break by visiting his old folks over the weekend in England, something the goblin did often enough always remembering to gently shout at the top of one voice, slam the door when entering the room and risk of being slowly drowned in tea and lemon cake, "...more tea..." comes the voice from downstairs followed a the ghost in the silence that seems to still say "...and have you done your homework, had your bath and brushed your teeth yet..."

nighttime cast its spell over the goblin as he felt once more at one with the darkness, his tread was light now, his senses more acute from the walk he had decided on, the reward was an animal like serenity, a purpose without thought and an emotion without understanding, "...well if they had wondered if you're wacko before, they'll know for sure now goblin..." ventured the sandman but the goblin thought not

The Penguin had a million and one things to do and on his poor, fragile mind, therefore hadn't got around to making that all important post today.

he suspected tomorrow will be a much brighter day to partake in such affairs...

He wished the Goblin luck with the night ahead, and vowed to be back with a tale of him and the restless Roo tomorrow...

The Penguin slept . ..

The Penguin, though usually frightful of the Arachnid tribes, was delightfully mesmerised by this particular creature, and thought he'd wake from his posting slumber to show the goblin his find...



Amazing, thought the Penguin, although he somehow knew he'd have nightmares tonight.

'I feel like its on me,' fretted the Penguin. 'But still, what pretty colours...'

(the goblin thanked the penguin for the gift, saying "...I love pictures, they to me, are the one thing I can't do for myself in posting so whenever someone posts a picture that they themselves have enjoyed, I usually am appreciative to the point of pinching them, we goblin's are not to be trusted with deep pictures then...")

"...so what are friends here then..." said the goblin who had had to slowly let his real life friends drift away years ago after his wife told him to get rid of one, the goblin explained "...in marriage one does these things of course, but, like a recession, or an illness, or some other bad experience, one never quite goes back to the innocence of the point before it happened, does one...", and so the goblin now understood that, as sad as that truth may seem, that those friendships were, up to a point, replaced by all this virtual socialization here, that is, by today's masked ball of the Internet, where a person's details don't mean anything, nor really mattered because they couldn't be proven one way or the other, "...amazing, when you think about it, it's all just someones "written words" written and replied to someone else's "written words", just a gathering of "written words" then...", the goblin laughed continuing "...in fact, we would think this all extremely surreal if we weren't so used to it by now by now that we don't even notice it any more..."

the goblin was always anonymous, so really whether he was liked, hated, or whatever didn't matter to that goblin persona he always portrayed himself as, he goblin explained "...sooner or later, I am just haunted by those three questions again, "so what have you actually written for all this posting then", "and what has one learned from the replies and comments too" and "well then, what have you seen of yourself from what you have posted"...”, pausing for a moment, the goblin went back into the kitchen to make another coffee, a dull workday morning was his unavoidable encroaching reality now, so the goblin's only escape could be to cast his mind elsewhere since his family depended on his continued surrender to this present situation, to this society, and just to this living too, even if all those were just compromises on their terms for their rewards, well that much at least was unavoidably clear to him by now, "...ah but, as strange as it may sound, my mind up to a point has a choice of being "aware, unaware, here, or elsewhere", so what if I could master this choice then as something against that all too mundane reality of mine, while also slowly producing a stored body of posts somewhere that thwarts those three haunting questions again, surely that would be reason enough to post here, wouldn't it mortals..." concluded the goblin as the clock just ushered him on now to society's bidding once more, the goblin retorts to the clock "...lift anchor, rig the mind to "elsewhere" boson, and steady as she daydreams then..."

the goblin held up and looked a the tin of baked beans which he noted read "by appointment of her majesty the queen" and then wondered if, when, and how she actually ate them

"...pass..." said the goblin, who asked to be forgiven for not posting his photo, saying "...simply, in five or ten years time, I'll be posting another photo of myself, of a face that I have no control over, thinking "but this is not really me, or it isn't fair that it is", so I, in my vanity perhaps, decided long ago that I won't have a face here that grows old here, that I will let people think that I am middle aged forever, if simply because a younger person wouldn't write like this one understands, and of course there's no need to portray an old person here...", in fact, the goblin had had this very same type conversation with someone else recently who didn't see that although she wanted to have other people appreciate her for her person within, she just had to stick her old photo in the avatar, and all her uninspiring details in the profile, "...so why wear that makeup, those sexy clothes, etc., why care about your weight too, simply those things are just same type of cheap deceptions as these are, are they not, when what it is really, that which most people want above all that is, is to be appreciated for who they really are, but I do appreciate for them for who they are, especially when I am not being bought by some superficial appearance thing here, as their mystery is their beauty...",

the goblin's muse, the goblin ventured, was a daughter of a lesser god perhaps, but he loved her no less for it, if anything he loved her more for it, "...my muse is madness, her gifts are more infinite and her adventures unguessable..." explained the goblin who had seen her so often touch his sane and mundane world with her magic depth

"...happy April fools day..." said the goblin knowing that that was probably the right word for sleep-deprivation resulting from trying to take over the internet by stealth, even if his email inbox resembled a jungle of "last post" replies, sanity by the way was now that faint dot on the horizon long behind him, somehow Star Trek springs to the goblin's mind with kirk's words as the goblin repeats " dart dadar di di di di dee....Internet, the final frontier, to boldly start "last post" threads where no goblin has gone before, to meet an endless stream of engaging dotty humans....da dar etc..." then adding "...Ok Slotty you can beam everyone else up now..." the goblin pressed his "post" button

the goblin looks up from the laptop out the window where the cold but sunny Chamonix afternoon shows a man with some muscular disorder erratically trying to help himself up onto the curb from a wheelchair where his carer hasn't quite got the knack it seems, the goblin thinks nothing of it till the carer succeeds in getting the front wheels up and where in her first step it hits the goblin that she too limps badly, after which they then cross slow clumsy loving glances at one another and then laugh happily on their way together as it nothing had happened, that is, as if they were no different from anyone else, which of course they weren't any different, save perhaps that the goblin had now caught a bit of their happiness in his post here he felt, goblins often stole from life like this, "...we're not to be trusted you know..." whispered the goblin again with a smile

The Penguin had questioned the very validity of the bible for many days, and through various methods of slicing through the hypocrisy with his own, quite questioned, intelligence, stumbled upon a very basic flaw in the bible...

Quote :

Lucifer is a Latin name for the morning star, the planet Venus. It also means, more generally, "light carrier/bringer". Matches are lucifers, in Dutch, by the way. The Wikipedia page http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Lucifer says more. It gives the references in the Jewish scripture and the Christian New Testament to the Morning Star (or Daystar) that became seen (and it is not clear why) as associated with Satan. It seems that Morning Star was a name given to a particularly bad Babylonian king. I am not sure whether the king was known as Morning Star already, and because of his nastiness the name came to be seen as a bad thing, or whether the name Morning Star was already seen as bad. However, the apostle Peter appears to use it to refer to the light of Christ, and it is said that the reference to the Morning Star in Revelations also refers to Christ. So it seems that the Morning Star in itself wasn't seen as bad, and tends to support my proposition that the name Morning Star/Lucifer is only bad because it was the name, or nickname, of a bad king.

Later on, the references to the 'bad' Morning Star/Lucifer in the Jewish prophetic writings were taken by Christians to refer to Satan and/or the Devil.

So it would seem that the 'original' Lucifer demon was actually a bad king.

'O' Lucifer, son of the morning, what these wretched Christians have done to you...' cried the Penguin.

(the goblin enjoyed reading that, saying "...you have set my mind going, and I will be thinking about that tonight then, it's written well too, great post I feel...", said the goblin digging up the only religious post he had now)

in fact the xxxxx site, the trolls there, and their writing style had flashed back in the goblin's mind his school days once more, simply the goblin remembered the time when he had turned up at some bible reading session at the bequest of his then girlfriend who, like all girlfriends of the time, probably saw their boyfriend as some cross between ones shopping accessory and ones very own pet "man friday", not that the goblin minded nor understood any of that, he was after all, besotted, desperate, or both, only that the moment the bible itself was ceremoniously passed to him to read in his turn he realized that he couldn't see the actual words for something he had smoked the night before, so out came those improvised words "sorry, I am a dyslexic but this is a cross that he hath given me to bear here everyone hallelujah" as the goblin then passed the bible to the next person in the now somewhat jaw dropped line of Bible readers, and perhaps those dilated pupils probably gave the game away too, so it was little wonder that she, there and then, dumped the heartbroken goblin to make her conquests elsewhere, just that the goblin, for his part, never smoked after that, pity

from the goblin's blog

52. Months had passed since he had been here, the icons still played above the box to the droning of the computer and a long moment passed before the goblin could type on ever able to recall his mother passing though that cottage hospital to the final home, the place she waits her last out now, so a week from now the goblin would be back with his family looking for a job, the effort had saved the family thousands of pounds but the harsh pictures of old age remains vivid, the right thing had been done, the debt paid to his childhood, and now a tree in the garden had began to tilt, unable to cut it down, the goblin had just pruned back as many of the branches as he could thinking that it would at least deny the wind its grip before the men would come to remove it. "...well, I did my best to keep her standing..." the goblin sighed

The Penguin, as inquisitive and challenging to the concept of Christianity as he was, had paid off greatly in the search for true spiritual development, and now offered some of his acquired knowledge to the Goblin - perhaps one of those misunderstood myths itself:

Quote :

Horned deities and horns themselves originally represented masculine qualities such as virility, speed and strength. Horns are also hollow like the womb thus they has associations with feminine aspects of divinity such as fertility, intuition, grace and maternal generosity. The age-old title for male sexual prowess ‘Horny’ of course arises from the lustful nature of Horned Gods. The early, sexually repressed Christian Church seems to have had little trouble in demonizing ancient horned deities like the Greek Pan and Celtic Cernunnos into twisted representations of the ‘Devil Incarnate!’

"This wicked Pagan God has horns so he must be the Dark Lord Satan himself," they must have cried.

This innocuous defamation of native Pagan divinity quickly produced excellent results for the Christian zealots in terms of both evangelisation and innocents being brought to the Hangman’s Noose or Blazing stake.

It was after an encounter with a Pagan he learnt of where Christians created the shape of the innocent Lucifer, son of the morning..



'O' Gods of the lands,' breathed the Penguin in disbelief. 'Just how doeseth the plot thicken...'

(the goblin thanked the penguin once more, saying "...the new always miligns the previous belieifs then, me, I am just on a journey to self here, simply "to know oneself by what ones posts", and "to create an internet self" are my two goals on the Internet..." the goblin would post more in the morning but for now he just posted some of his deeper posts, trying to match the penguin's mood then)

the poster had won, as had the goblin many times to date too but there was always only one "last post" and only the one "now" to post it in, "...it is like picking up a handful of sand and letting the grains slip gently through ones fingers..." mused the goblin "...there are so many things yet to post and so many things that I have posted but just like the sand they are somehow less attractive than the falling grains of the present situation..." the goblin was simply trying to say that winning the game was less of a prize than the adventure than sifting through the sand of what one could post here

the goblin had come to an agreement with the owner of the bistro, in that as soon a the place filled with lunch people the goblin would uproot to the bar and continue tappidytyping from there, the owner had once asked why the goblin typed so much "...well life is a race with death for revealing oneself through ones creations...", "..yer OK, but that isn't going to pay the bills then, is it..." the owner replied, so the goblin just found himself remembering that line he knew “Domine, quo vadis(I am going back to be crucified again since you are departing from it)" and typed on

"...whenever you hit the "post" button you are alone here as the site only deals with one modification or new post at a time regardless of who or how many members might be looking elsewhere, so if you know you are alone on the site when you actually post, does it matter if the site has one or a thousand members members watching elsewhere..." said the goblin knowing that the best sites are those that have gone through a "Winter of doubt" where the remaining members are solid like rooted trees

nighttime cast its spell over the goblin as he felt once more at one with the darkness, his tread was light now, his senses more acute from the walk he had decided on, the reward was an animal like serenity, a purpose without thought and an emotion without understanding, "...well if they had wondered if you're wacko before, they'll know for sure now goblin..." ventured the sandman but the goblin thought not

"...am I sad, nah not me.." said the goblin adding "... but there are times when being profound has usually some tinge of regret to it...", the goblin had somehow noticed that whenever one stared at some infinite, ones own insignificance would come to the fore, "...the reward of some increased awareness is often an increased humility to go with it..." he concluded

the goblin wants to be by the seaside now, he wants to paddle the cold retreating surf just above those crashing waves looking for that ever elusive cornelian that shines with the reflected setting sunlight on his way homewards, somehow the goblin knew that if he ever found that gem it would be a gift from the great sea herself to him alone, something worth far more than anything a jeweler could ever offer

"...this may be the "last post" thread but let's hope that there is never a "last post" then..." thought the goblin on the balcony under a clear silent moon, tomorrow he had yet another day to the mountains, he would need every "last post" thread going to stop him somehow slipping into a resentful sanity, "...no thanks, done sanity, been there all too often, now I want escape..." voiced the goblin out into the observing darkness

the goblin, at this point, walked alone along a beach in his imagination where, having come across a washed up stick, the goblin suddenly wonders what he could write across the wet sand on this windy day, "...well, aren't you wasting your time impudent goblin..." came a very old voice somewhere outside him "... surely, you know very well that I will just wash your scribbles away with the next tide..." came the mocking sea's voice carried through its waves faintly under in the sea breeze on to the still goblin, it seemed to continue "...go ahead and write, write and be dammed for all I care since I will only wash it away..." the sea repeated again and again to the goblin who after a long while moved the stick slowly across the sand writing "for now I know the gods must envy us our mortality", after which the goblin ran up to the waves and flung the stick to the sea retorting "...ah but I, in my one little moment, can write on this sand, so take this stick and show me what it is that you, with your forever, can write then..." but the stick just floated in the water, perhaps to drift back to the goblin, perhaps not then, as the goblin walked on passed that day but never really far from the grip that it held on him still