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  #2461  
Old 05-19-2012, 09:33 PM
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(in fact, the goblin's drinking days had never really been he recalls, but what they were were behind him anyway, saying "...one drinks on pain of headache, where I don't always get one, but it takes the fun out of it...")

repost from elsewhere

christmas morning and the goblin was awake now, alone too, anyway at his age it simply meant that he couldn't sleep off those mornings like he once could, saying "...so the view from the window this morning is of windswept white rooftops, with some bare trees too, but mostly of a grey featureless sky, and yet in a short while I will go for a walk within this painful scenery, and with luck, it'll spur my mind into gaining something worth posting from it for the surrounding adjectives will be fortitude, gratitude, and sobriety, ah yes, rather bitter fruits compared with those of my youth perhaps but nonetheless mine for the writing about...", in fact, the goblin wasn't looking back, nor looking forward neither, no his present mindset now seemed filled with a sense of foreboding towards these european economies in the forthcoming year, explaining "...the key to understanding all this musical chairs is a very easy line to remember sovereign debt does not have to be repaid, where the logic follows exactly what machiavelli explained in his book the prince, that of just keeping one's word till one can't...", so somehow the goblin knew too, that his christmas walk was going to be worth every cold hardship for the plot was evidently far deeper than anything that ourdearmedia was offering piecemeal and superficially in their soothing coverage so far


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  #2462  
Old 05-21-2012, 12:43 AM
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repost from elsewhere, the writers forum, the "so who's the worst author" thread

"...one question humans..." went the goblin now, continuing "...if we agree that to post is to publish, then am I allowed to nominate myself I wonder, and where not, can I at least be allowed to offer this distinction to one of the authors on this forum here...", but to date, the goblin had yet to hear of the prize then, guessing that, what with NASA's slashing its budget, any manned mission to california in search of possible intelligent lifeforms was not going to be it then, suspecting too, that it was more likely to be a daytrip to walmats instead, adding "...well folks, I'm easy where any prize is concerned, just as long as I can truly earn that distinction..."


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  #2463  
Old 05-21-2012, 02:47 AM
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another Monday morning comes round again where the sun shines down on the little cottage by the canal "...yes I would say Summer starts today here in little England, make the most of it now, although for some strange reason my phone is saying it's 18:15 on the 1st of January 2000, which it can't be surely, otherwise I would have noticed, wouldn't I..." Jats pauses the film on his dual screen, having finally gotten round to setting that up over the weekend where not much else was done other than lazing around and ordering another new gun which his confused phone tells him with a beep has been despatched and is on it's way now, ready for the next big battle scene then "...no I would say it's more like the 70's here, deep in recession, the jobless rising despite the new Tory government massaging the figures and it's the police now striking instead of the miners, making sure they have their pieces of silver in place before unleashing the rubber bullets and water cannons on the peasants, though I can't see many big battles on the streets this time round, no we are all too busy escaping..." comments Jats going back to the film with the shorts and the deckchair at the ready for later and thoroughly enjoying pottering about in this elongated weekend in the shire, in wondrous oblivion to it all


Last edited by Jats; 05-21-2012 at 08:52 AM.. Reason: oops sorry Loz...there you go
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  #2464  
Old 05-21-2012, 04:56 AM
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Thank you
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  #2465  
Old 05-21-2012, 11:44 AM
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...well seeing as you asked so nicely, though if that was "huge" then no wonder your fella loves you. Enough "modding" then, write me something...

"Love is the act of endless forgiveness, and stupidity. It is the symbol of eternity and sweet tyranny that torments willingly, yet, without love we would all be sensible human beings, void of a soul, void of poetry."
and the chameleon grabs that greedily for though a thief of many things, originality is the most prized of all then "...hallo again, that was beautiful, though not stupidity, habit surely, and lets not forget passion even though it may manifest itself differently with that habit as time marches on, but to a writer tho, every quirk and flaw will still be loved so..."

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  #2466  
Old 05-21-2012, 01:31 PM
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So. Monday evening then, complete with a sunset stretching pink fingertips across the dark, hunched hills. Grace was saddened by the news of Robin Gibb's death today. She thought of his mother grieving another lost son. She thought of the brother who stands alone now - band and family gone. "No, I can't claim to be an ardent fan of their music", Grace wrote, "but they provided a soundtrack for much of my life all the same. Always there playing in the background of each decade. And how can you not pay your respects to someone who has achieved so much in their lifetime - and left a timeless legacy behind for future generations. Isn't that what we all want in the end?" Grace honoured him then - not for a life lost - but a life lived so well. "Thank you Robin".

http://youtu.be/-0HF2EFJIL8


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  #2467  
Old 05-21-2012, 05:19 PM
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...I saw him and Mike Read on a celebrity "who wants to be a millionaire", for charidy, they were utterly useless...lovely post though as always...meanwhile, elsewhere, they have moved my thread to the "Members Blog" section, so fuck that then...

"...and you wonder why this forum is almost dead..." Jats laughs noticing at the bottom that the Facetwit bots have found him already though "...but how can this be a blog where all have the right to reply without censor unlike a blog then, and it s'not my fault if your members choose not to use that right now is it, neither too in many of the other threads in the unfortunately named Chatterbox for that matter, though I agree a merger with 'Random Thoughts' would not have been to my liking, as would anything without asking..." smiles Jats hand on cheek pondering his next move now "...though you think if you tuck me away somewhere in the corner that will keep me quiet now do you..." the chameleon smirks seeing what needs to be done then "...oh and keep the 'I love moderators' hat that you proffered, there will be a time when you will want to look back fondly at it and where you may have more time to read this thread, maybe understand it, for a blog it is not..." sigh Jats after oolongcha showed such promise too, though like most moderators and writers too they have difficulty reading where Jats just reminds himself that 'there are as many forums as there are stars in the night sky' and so clicks on his little list and chooses another forum for a new landing then, where anyone can follow him if they wish to do so, by merely typing in Jats and Random Stuff on any search engine of their choosing, where they will find him playing on elsewhere "...I'll pop back in a year, or two, see how you are doing in your 'new clothes' against all the competition out there, where who knows some may be glad of some Random Suff, but if the castle is even more deserted upon my return, who would be King of what then..."


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  #2468  
Old 05-22-2012, 12:59 AM
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("...yesterday the headache lasted through the night, where the me this morning is a weak and spent one by it, and where I write once more to prove to myself that I am as ever one of you here, one that passes the essence of his existence through the focus of his pen..." ventured the goblin somewhat in fear of his own head, and with the comforting voice in the background was going "...just look away form the screen goblin, keep writing but only occasionally look at what you're writing and leave off at the first signs of eye strain, oh and how about not playing that computer game...", whereupon the guilty goblin placed two index fingers into two awaiting ears knowing it didn't diminish those decibels of sound advice, yet he could help himself, just he'd been here so many times before)

repost from elsewhere, the "what give the state the right to exist" thread

"...since humans lean towards the comfort of authority, which is a compromise of some sort or other, they form their family unit, or their clan, their state, their empire, etc., where any absence of authority, the state in this context, in some form or other, is a non-starter in my view, since they always fall back into that comfort of this authority each time..." mentioned the goblin, adding "...however authority, being a compromise too, suffers from structural stress over time, meaning that families, clans, states right on up to empires, wax, wane, and finally collapse, in the way history has repeatedly shown us, even if the underlying desire for authority on the part of the individual remains a constant throughout, albeit one tempered with a desire for some impossible freedom too...", simply the goblin was stating that most humans were like incapable chickens in terms of that great wild outdoors while they still aspired to those very ideals they couldn't possibly survive in, "...well goblin, why not just borrow lincoln's words here, addressing it as "a chicken-coop of the chickens, for the chickens, by the chickens"..." went the voice in the back to the goblin's mind now, not that the goblin himself would ever dare utter such a thing


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  #2469  
Old 05-22-2012, 01:33 AM
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("Lots of water Flea - hydrate yourself - and hope you feel better soon". X)

So. Summer indeed then. The sort of dry heat that flings itself at the door, and stepping out feels like opening the tumble dryer. And Grace had had a hard time so far trying to motivate the little comedian. "C'mon darling, put your shoes on" she coaxed as he skipped about blasting a recorder like a demented Pan. "Mum! Mum! listen to this Mum! Why did the banana cross the road?" Grace cocked her head, waiting for the answer. "Because it wasn't peeling well!", he roared, holding his sides, and turning crimson. "C'mon darling, let's get your shoes on shall we?" Grace coaxed, chasing him with a clean sock she'd whipped off the radiator. "Mum! Mum! Guess what Mum? Where does an Otter keep his money?" Grace dived on an ankle, and wrestled him to the floor. "In a riverbank", he guffawed, sounding alarmingly like Brian Blessed. Grace stuffed one little foot in a sock and dragged him across the floor to reach the trainer. "Mum! Mum! What colour is a burp?", he continued, lying on the rug now, snorting and giggling, but having surrendered to footwear. "Burple!" he squeeled, "Burple Mum!", he repeated, in case she hadn't got it. "Hilarious darling", Grace assured him, having suffered his first attempts at humour on a loop for nearly a fortnight "Now go and get your sun cap", she told him, hauling him off the rug and grabbing her car keys, "We've got to scoot". He gave a rebellious blast on the recorder, and crumpled to a heap in the doorway. "You can't take me to Nursery", he wailed, "Can't you see how ill I am?"
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  #2470  
Old 05-22-2012, 04:09 AM
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...loved that, brought back a flood of memories and four you say? Can't wait til he is six, that's the bestest, and from then on it's just any excuse to slip a swear word into the conversation...a repost in return then...

Shut up, Jats.
"...ah but if I did that then who would listen to your words now..." as the chameleon grabs that quote for posterity to post elsewhere with Jats response now too for all to see "...for everyone has that basic right to free speech don't you think, or would you take away that too now, would you shout down everyone who disagrees with you..." as Jats chuckles at the memory of yesterday breaking up the latest argument amongst the siblings and a couple of friends over the rules of ping pong this time as the dining room table took another beating interjecting the shouting with a clarification and an ultimatum to once more choose democracy, or dictatorship, and laughing as mini-me asked 'which is the good one again?' and after responding with 'the first one', explaining a little, he chided his brother with 'yea stop being a dick...tater head' and the game continued then "...for see, if everyone was to just 'shut up' you would have nothing to do, your existence futile without the constant opportunity I provide to you to reveal your self to all even if it isn't smarter than my ten year old could come up with then, though I would fight for your right to continue to try to..."

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  #2471  
Old 05-22-2012, 06:15 AM
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("...I'm loving the posts..." went the goblin amazed at thought conjured up by each poster here, saying "...this is where I want to be, count me amongst your ranks then...")

repost from elsewhere

So what’s it like on the other side? That’s the side opposite life, in case you don’t get my drift. Have you dipped your toe in, and returned? What did you experience? Have you communicated with someone on the other side? How did that communication take place? Can you recommend it as a place to go? Do you have any views on the notion that when a person dies, that person's soul returns to Earth to inhabit a new-born baby's body? And do we know we’ve been here before? If you’re wondering what I’m on about this time, I’m going under the knife in two weeks. The doc told me there’s a chance I might die. If that happens, I know you’ll breathe a collective sigh of relief and then throw a party, but in the meantime I want answers, but not from Christians. Go annoy someone else.
"...does anybody have any more life than anyone else I wonder, where tomorrow is not promised even to the most healthy amongst us..." mused the goblin, adding "...and besides, where are those you loved in life if not within you at this point, so too, by that logic then, if someone loves you in the way you yourself hold someone dear within you now, then you already know where you will be, just welcome in the their hearts...", in fact, the goblin often wondered if the heart was not some portal to a spirit-dimension then, where perhaps the afterlife was akin to our internet here, just another sea of forumland perhaps


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  #2472  
Old 05-22-2012, 02:19 PM
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Late then. Somehow Grace's mood had gently sunk with the sun. It had been a perfect evening. New potatoes drizzled with butter and pepper. Slithers of ham joint rolled between hard boiled eggs and succulent claret-coloured beetroot. A thatch of grated chedder. Grace padded through with the last of the plates from the garden, and a shoe box full of 'special' fir cones and pebbles tucked under her arm. She left the candles burning outside - not a flicker on such a sultry night. She felt heavy - leaden - and tried to brush it off as tiredness. She felt silent. Wordless. If the phone rang, she couldn't answer. Too far within herself to be reached. And Grace accepted it for what it was. Just the axe-wound on an old weathered oak that sometimes still gently wept for a limb severed long ago.

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  #2473  
Old 05-22-2012, 09:07 PM
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("...again a beautiful post Grace, I slept well last night, rather making up for the night before where I hadn't..." mentioned the goblin, who had asked his step-dad in the dream that he had had last night if he'd leave mum's old pictures to him, whereupon his step-dad had broken down to the repeated muttering of "bad form" by being reminded of his present demise to cancer, so the goblin decided against asking, saying "...oh yes, doesn't that old spanish saying go when the father remarries the daughter becomes a step daughter ring true here, thus with mum passed on I am a step son whose roll today is to speak when spoken to, where dare I say the funeral will be the end of this estranged entanglement...")

repost from elsewhere

what do i win? and when. i'd settle for an autograph from the Goblin.
"...I guess one wins a reflection of self through one's post though I'd love to give you my autograph then..." replied the goblin adding "...but if you write out my name, and then think of it as mine, then that autograph will be as good as mine then, for in truth there is no way that I can prove my identity to you anyway..." replied the goblin never forgetting that fame and fortune were medusa's enticements to let her set one in her neat published stone each time, like so many dead or dated authors to date, adding "...well, wasn't it enough for one to have lived as these thoughts here free on this forumland, rather than having suffered the full weight of her gaze by now, me I'm just another nobody then who shared this time with you now..."


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  #2474  
Old 05-23-2012, 05:22 AM
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"...stunning just stunning again where the last line sent my emotions swirling. You know it's a good job I don't have you Grace, or I would lock you away in a little room saying 'don't worry about anything', do the chores, the nursery run, wash, cloth, feed the little un and drag him off to the park to run riot, while you just tapped away at the keyboard...but ah..." thinks Jats seeing the flaw in his selfish logic "...but then you would have nothing to write about..." smiles Jats welcoming the cool sanctuary of the little cottage by the canal sheltering from the blazing sun for the moment with a cuppa in hand wearing just shorts, boots and sun glasses perched on the head and turning to the goblin now "...yes for all our moaning and lamenting, once in a while, every ten, twenty, or thirty years an English summer comes along that makes us forget everything that has gone, dismissed in an instant as we bask in our glory in a sea of burnt pink faces..." as Jats reminds himself to put some sunscreen on "...recession, what recession, no everything here is hunky dory again..." chuckles Jats shaking his head and swinging his hips on the way out once more to the best job in the world now that the sun is shining then

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LdfN-vWWSQk


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  #2475  
Old 05-23-2012, 10:39 AM
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"Ah, that's better," Loz says, showering sand off her feet then towelling them dry. After a little detour, a quick dash across warm sand to dip her toes in icy sea, and her mood uplifted like the rising sun. "It had been a weird week," she adds, called "shrewd" by her collegues, a "pervert" by her husband, she was wondering what she was possiblly doing wrong. But as the sun shone against her bare legs, foamy water flowing up to her ankles, and gone was her tension, not even the odd midgy flying up her nose was enough to dampen her mood. Now as she curls up with her computer in her lap to read her favourite posts then edit some more chapters, they'll be no setting sun for the rest of the evening.

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  #2476  
Old 05-23-2012, 01:29 PM
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("...very well written, you're definitely coming into your own Loz..." went the goblin liking it)

repost from elsewhere

Anyway, so I've recently started a fantasy novel and am on my third chapter, but I'm finding it difficult to get the right balance between dialogue and description. At the moment it seems to be mostly dialogue, and whenever I try and add more description the plot seems to stand still... So my basic problem is: how do I keep the plot moving without leaving out the description entirely? However, there's also the problem of trying to find various ways of saying "said"
"...ah now, put it this way then..." started the goblin looking out across today's grayish white winter's view of more whatever all this winter's snow was about anyway, not that it was actually cold indoors though, just that it was coldly dull outside, enough to make one feel cold everywhere, as the untrustworthy goblin slowly built up to his idea again, saying "...look, suppose one addressed any musician about what he would need to do for some forthcoming concert where he'd probably reply "well first I'd look over the composition again, and just practice my instrument till I got it fluid now", or ask any actor what he'd do for some forthcoming film, where he'd reply too "I'd go over the script again, and practice my lines till I felt myself to be the part"...", at which point the goblin wondered just how many writers really wanted to write fluidly in third person within their books but spent most to the posting days here writing in some monotone unnarrated first person, smiling "...you see, there's nothing is stopping you but it's does take a bit of madness to do it, and still more madness to do it well, so what say you human, for the sake of practice your transition awaits you now does it not, where you could become any persona you like by it, so why so first person human, can't I tempt you a little bit into my world here..."


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  #2477  
Old 05-23-2012, 05:35 PM
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(Would settle for the odd cuppa and occasional slowdance on the kitchen tiles while we wait for the microwave to ping....)

So. Early hours then, and Grace wandered in from the patio - doors flung open to a Spanish heat. "We bunked off today - and kidnapped Grandma too", Grace confessed, "A happy band of three absconded from the day-to-day of it all". They had meandered along winding lanes of lush, perfumed green - each hill crest rewarding the jeep's laboured climb with a dazzling view of the sequined sea beyond. They lolled out of the windows, sucking in the smell of hot sand and hedgerow. Down to the cove - their cove - indelibly imprinted with every shoe size Grace had graduated from. Sand as soft as sifted flour gave way to a rolled-out pastry shoreline - not a stone nor a ribbon of seaweed in sight. Crystal clear waters as warm and benign as a lake. And Grandma held camp as they chased and ploughed in and out of the sea - one hand shielding her eyes, she watched them - sometimes seeing Grace - sometimes seeing herself. They buried their feet and tore off hunks of soft, gritty baguette. They built castles, and dug moats. Tucked lucky stones in handbags. Grace watched her son run the sand through his fingers. ..again....and again....sand slipping through fingers. She wrapped an arm around her Mum, and gently squeezed her frail frame. Planting a kiss on her talcumed neck, she memorized the feel of her soft wool cardigan. Memorized the faint scent of Chanel dabbed behind her ears. Memorized her glasses dangling askew on a neck chain. Grace memorized and held on to it all. Life had taught her that.


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  #2478  
Old 05-23-2012, 09:31 PM
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("...like looking into a photo Grace..." went the goblin, adding "...where one day your son will see that post with grown up eyes, for these are the snap shots of our times, well worth their writing and their keeping too...")

repost from elsewhere, why the goblin didn't advise much

"...ah now, the trouble with advice, is that if everyone follows it, then we all become the same by it..." mentioned the goblin, while actually thinking that somehow this new year's day could be slightly more forgiving towards the type of hangover it clobbers one with here, adding "...so I too, suggest that jump into the deep end approach, that is, just make lots and lots of mistakes until its residue outlines to you where you are going wrong, oh and besides, someone pointing you in the right direction is a poor shortcut for your reaching the destination through your own experience, which seems so much more sure footed, a wealth of misadventure perhaps, time to make those mistakes then..."


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Old 05-24-2012, 08:38 PM
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repost from elsewhere

Ah, but what are we being distracted from? When the South polar ice cap melts there will be no economy, we do not know if it will go bit by bit or in one hot summer, but probably sometime within the next 30 years most of the earth will be uninhabitable and the population back to bronze age levels, about 1% of the present population. Don't let them think about that too long.
the goblin liked xxxxx's reply very much for the way it had fed the goblin's mind so well, replying "...oh yes and all that too, agreed, but things I fear will fall apart long before those thirty years from now then, in that simply there are too many indicators that the overall situation, both in europe and america, is unsustainable here, where simply too much liquidity chases too little productivity, and where too, too many people expect the system to support them where obviously their savings and pensions are growing steadily worthless under the rising cost of living here, and where again, the gap between the haves and the have nots, the enfranchised and disenfranchised is steadily widening too...", the goblin paused, knowing that it didn't take much googling to backup this argument that this system is too severely strained to be sustainable much longer, saying "...there's another war coming, for they daren't let us watch/comprehend our slow decline here of this our end of empire age, so they'll offer us more distraction instead, yet another war, some royal marriages perhaps, or those london olympics even, climate change, brutal upheavals and repressions in faraway dictator states, etc., in fact anything to avoid us looking at directly at that fact that those economic sums neither add up right nor bode well, for simply those cuts are coming, even if none of us know how or where that axe will land..."


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Old 05-25-2012, 03:22 AM
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Jats puts his blinkers on to that post then returning to the slot now with all the chores done like a good little housewife and just killing a little time before a shit shower and a shave, then it will on to the school run pretending to be a little normal for the boys sake then "...well it's here, sitting on the dining table waiting for him, and not from China in the end where I pulled the plug on that with Chinese Kelly giving me no confidence that it would ever arrive so ZeroOne have got all that birthday and christmas money that is usually spent on crap and now a gleaming M16 Carbine awaits to be loved and cherished instead..." Jats chuckles knowing some more Mums will be frowning at him again with all this encouragement of playing war, though reading Flea's post a second time you could argue just as well then, for maybe one day when they say 'your Dad was a bit mad...' they can add '...but he was right though' too then


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Old 05-25-2012, 01:18 PM
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'It's one of those times when I feel even more out of it than usual', sighed Nadja with all the sense of melodrama which lies so close to the heart, 'one of those periodic fits of madness that descends, when a shockwave wakes up the normally inert land, when normally stolid people break out in all manner of skimpy clothing and garish colours, when the beginnings of hysteria touch even the most unemotional of meteorological experts. With a mad gleam in the eye, a sudden sinister uplifting of tone, every particle of their being imbued with fiendish glee, they promise ever-mounting temperatures and vicious blue skies and monstrous endless sun, until I can take no more and, quivering, shut off the weather report .. only to inhale the noxious fumes of the almighty dreaded barbecue next door, wafting in with evil intent through the window which I had, in all innocence, opened to catch the faintest breeze..
Yes, I am that pariah, a detester of the life-giving sun, a creature of the dark ... or at any rate of cool grey misty skies. I wander perplexed among the sun-worshippers, a race apart, wondering at their exclamations of joy as they welcome the hideous fire from above. They are no kith or kin to me; incomprehensible beings, worshippers of an alien god, and I the unsuspected iconoclast, walk amongst them, itching to blast their temples to ashes.'
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Old 05-25-2012, 03:17 PM
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Late friday evening then, as Grace sat in her burglars' paradise of gaping doors and windows. Complete stillness and silence. The back step warm to bare legs. "Still can't relax", she wrote, hugging her shoulders - a dumb ox released from the plough, but still feeling the weight of the yoke. "Skiing feet", she said in a daydream, remembering nights in Austrian bunkbeds with her ankles jerking parallel turns and the backs of her eyelids throwing trees in her path. Grace shook her head dog-style - as if her thoughts would sink like sediment. "Guess I'll read then", she finished, "immerse myself in someone else's story to escape my own."

http://youtu.be/xf7HbY_lafk


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Old 05-25-2012, 03:43 PM
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"...oh I did like that Nadja..." smiles Jats enjoying this marvellous sultry evening in the shire with it's twinkling crescent moon in the clear star riddled skies with the boys all tucked up in bed now while a cold bottle of cider gets swigged down on the back doorstep "...well it was worth all the months of tireless research to see that look on his face, and the envy of his little brothers, especially when the first few test shots were fired that were bullseye after bullseye..." smiles Jats hearing some of Nadja's sun soaked loonies passing by at the bottom of the lane now that closing time has come "...and good job I bought all this safety gear too, as by the looks of it they are going to need it once the sun has cooled down a little tomorrow, though lots of lazing around to be done first until more modern warfare begins again followed by a quick drink in the local beer garden I think, to watch the glorious sun go down...cheers then..." chuckles Jats finishing off the bottle now with a loud burp to break the midnight silence


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Old 05-26-2012, 01:32 AM
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Lion cubs, yay! "Why is it the cutest of things are always the ones than can kill you when being cuddled?" Loz asks, recalling her climb over the roof of the jeep to cuddle those big ones only to be pulled back inside by her shorts, scolded, then worse, spotting the baboons that had her cowering in fear until riding under the car seat for so long in such heat she had to pop up her head again, this time being forced out of the jeep roof so she could empty her stomach.

Loz rubs her head, glad the headache had passed. "Never had one that bad before," she says, sad that she couldn't even read any posts and had to wait until morning. Now, sun shining, first load of washing on the line, secondly load tumbling like her head did yesterday, things are looking up. "It was wierd," she says. "walking along the cliff path that all of a sudden seemed much steeper than it used to be." Her eyes pounded like waves thumping against the hull of a fishing boat, then she spotted the lady and, for a moment, wondered if she was hallucinating. Dressed in slippers and dressing gown, fat bulging over the tightly pulled rope much like the stuffed plastic bags clenched into her grip, the lady lifted the lid to a dustbin. Then, once full, she turned, two bags full, still in her grip. Loz couldn't help but wonder what was wrong with the lady's own bins, why walk so far? Could it be drugs, a dead body? As Loz passed the bin she had the urge to lift the lid and peer inside, but that would make her just as crazy as the slippered lady at 6 in the afternoon. Shaking her head and regretting it, she returned home. Her brain felt like fire wood being hacked up by Jats as she lay down on her bed. And as the sketchy contents of the rubbish bin swirled in her imagination, all she could think was that curiosity might have killed the cat, but god dammit, sometimes a unicorn was just dying to know the truth.

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Old 05-26-2012, 01:59 AM
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("...yup, definitely we're getting better at this posting..." went the goblin liking that post now, while before his mind had time he had been trying to figure out the course of gold in his mind aware that the plebs can't win this, saying "...either the fat cats will dump a lot of gold to deflate the price, or when that trick fails, they will do what america did in 1932, just nationalize gold for the sake of the market, in other words fiat money is an IOU and one way or another they want us to keep dealing in IOUs...", simply one had to ask oneself why gold was nationalise, where the crisis today is far worse than 1929)

repost from elsewhere

I was just wondering if anyone else has encountered this too. Have any of you ever had the experience where you get a story idea, (or any writing-related ideas; characters, world, concept, etc...) and then suddenly you begin to see things related to it everywhere? For me, I tend to come across similar characters, or specific words that hold meaning in the story. Or maybe stumble over an article that deals with the city or town I'm writing about. Television is especially good with throwing my ideas in my face--then of course my good friend will start talking about something strangely close... What about you? Any oddly close encounters with any of your book ideas?
"...ah now, it only gets worse human, for after a while they move in and stay put..." mentioned the goblin guessing that here was someone newish to writing then, continuing "...just it's the level of one's imagination within one I suppose, where if you're constantly listening out for something then you hear more, where too, if you look carefully at something then you'll see more, and where again if you eat slowly you'll taste more of it..." at which point the goblin just tried to bridge it to himself, saying "...well then, by that logic if you pass everything through the focus of your pen here, then won't that too, throw up all sorts of things that you've overlooked till now...", simply, the goblin was pointing out that writing was like all the other senses, where words are representations that effect all the other senses within one, adding "...for example if you add a picture to each post, soon sure enough these texts will project their images in the same way that some images will relate back texts to one...", "...ah now, so that's why you match those texts to pictures goblin, where we all thought you were just mad instead, oh what a let down here..." went those muted voices in the back of the goblin's mind once more, but at least the goblin never lacked for their company, no he enjoyed the company of his imaginary friends within him, mind you, he did wonder if there was anything within one's mind that was not imaginary, "...nah goblin, we're sure you're just imagining things then..." they voiced as to reassure him now


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Old 05-26-2012, 03:12 AM
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"Well now - our big night tonight then", Grace laughed, referring to the Eurovision Song Contest, delighted with a call from her old neighbour Herm The Perm who was hosting a soiree around the television - feeling her lifelong allegiance to Humpy had finally paid off. "Pearl's doing vol-au-vents and piggies in blankets", she coaxed , "and we could put away a sherry or two" quavered the voice of temptation. Grace imagined Herm's little storm porch cluttered with zimmer frames and fluttering with bunting. The tiny front parlour packed with floral dresses and support stockings waving Union Jacks saved from the coronation. "We'll be there Herm", she promised, already hearing "Goot Evenink Slovenia, may we azz your votes pleez?" in her head and knowing her son would need more than a new colouring book to get him through the whole experience then...

http://youtu.be/01SQXjlhTuE


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Old 05-26-2012, 02:21 PM
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"Well," The Raven said deciding to stop in. "I still have nothing new to share...of interest." Well...she supposed she now had a shiny new (sorta new) used red car, to which she shy'ed away from the colour. It sent the message that The Raven was passionate and sexual and loved to speed, it stood out like a red spot on a white wall---and when The Raven was on the wall the last thing she wanted to do was call attention to ticket giving police. She wanted to get from A to B with as little trouble as possible, she wanted to blend in with the rest of the blues, the grays, the silvers, and greens, not stand out like those firey reds and those happy yellows, those mellow pinks and cotton candy blues. But, that is not how it happened. And, she settled with the idea that it was alright, because the car drove great and served its purpose well. She waved at her friends here. "At least," she added more to herself than not, that "The car she drove was consciously "Green"." Somehow that made it all feel a little bit better. Until she thought, "But why not Blue?"

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Old 05-26-2012, 04:22 PM
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ah what to do today then, wondered Jats and the little un sitting in the morning sun while finding out how his school trip in Anglesey went this week, hearing tales of body boarding, rock pool exploring, fry ups every morning and building giant sand castles on the beach 'we could finish the patio...' proposed Jats '...but we need to get some sand' whereupon the little un looked down and surveyed the job in hand then suggested 'there's plenty in my trainers Dad'


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Old 05-26-2012, 11:04 PM
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"No cat", Grace wrote, sitting down at the computer to stop herself pacing from front to back. The squirrels were raiding the bird table without a hint of anxiety. A corpulent pidgeon took confident Max Wall strides across the lawn. A squadron of Blue tits had formed an orderly queue on the fence, and swooped, in a seamless relay on yesterday's toast crumbs. The garden had the feel of a raucous classroom in teacher's absence. "It would be a joy to watch if I wasn't so worried", Grace typed quickly, before going to check the perimeters again, wishing the old fur ball would swagger up the path yowling for breakfast and ruin it all.


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Old 05-26-2012, 11:50 PM
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"Well, he's back", came the update, "Haughty, trucculent little sod". Grace had made a swift transition from wringing her hands to wanting to wring his neck. Huge, amber eyes fixed on her defiantly, before he head butted the dog into grooming his ears for him. He watched her through smug, blissful slits as he lay in a hammock of docile paws. Grace made another cup of tea, and listened to the radio chatter about last night's Eurovision. "Oh cheer up Humpy - you beat Norway after all", Grace grinned, "How many points did you get again luvvie?"

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