the goblin's place Forum the goblin's journal

the goblin's blog

goblins by nature are those people who play around with comp-bits as opposed to witches who are more into codes, or clairvoyants who delve into HJT logs to remove malware, though that is not to say that each doesn't know a fair deal about the other fields it is just that their type shows, where perhaps this was as good a place to start as any thought the goblin who had been working in a cave(repair shop) in geneva doing repairs and malware removal for some time before he had had to stop working because his mother at 86 had quickly sunk into old age and memory loss and the choice between an old age home at x amount per week,thus having to sell the house then, or just looking after her himself, made him choose the later then, simply he goblin felt that this would also be a good chance to write and relate this experience to others, hence he has started this blog then


1

the goblin's blog

 "thanks" replied the goblin to his friends who had now replied on this thread and whose BSE had grown somewhat evident of late, that is BSE as in [i]british system of education[/i] but what could he do about that he thought, in fact, he had of late wondered if this sudden transformation into a goblin might have something to do with, well seven hours of comp'repairs followed a sleepless night of replying to on forumland about comps, and anyway, he had been a good goblin because he knew that if you weren't you would end up being given ten secondary school teacher's here in goonville(geneva) and asked to teach them how to send an email, something like:

school report 1, proffy finds his work very challenging,
school report 2, Proffy has mastered [i]outlook express[/i] but alas from there he finds his work challenging,
3, proffy would like to return to the beginning to reassess the situation
6, proffy has not come to class this month
10, proffy has learned mspaint instead
20, proffy cannot look at a computer without seeing it as an instrument of torture
30, proffy thinks that the decline of witch hunting in the middleages was all a mistake bigtime
50, proffy wonders how the school board ever let the big ork(boss) convince them that goblins(techs) and proffies(teachers) can survive together in a classroom setting
70, proffy wonders why the goblin hasn't noticed that you can't write on the blackboard with a screwdriver
90, poffy wonders why goblins often throw back their hands and screwdrivers in defeat
and lastly school report 1,000,000 proffy notes that the goblin has bunked off to his fiends at that misguided forum somewhere to become a livewriter from this point, etc., etc.,"
related the goblin whose soul wish was to remember, even slightly, what he had been originally trying to write here

repost from the goblin's blog

"...thanks for your reply here..." said the goblin and then had to return to a comp that he could kill today, he had after all tried spybot, adaware, and ewido only to have the virus repeat the words of martin luther [i]here I stay so help me god[/i] meaning that he tried vundo fix, which got ride of the outward effects, his reward as ever was to check my mail to see if our good friends from rain'ile sur mer(UK) had posted something coded in their very visual basic for him, to which he was not disappointed, however, he thought it would be a good idea to run spyboot one last time to which it cleared all but one file entry to the words [i]spybot could not remove this last entry, would you care to have it done on reboot[/i]" a question like do you want monday to follow sunday, and on reboot, up pops the safety mode choice, and from there that black void of eternal wait was upon one, plus this was an acer where one can't seem to changed the bootsequence to start my repair for XP cd, and one gets some idea of how the goblin's black mood contrasted well with the bright day outside, somehow the goblin just wished that all those joe dunceheads that came into he cavefront(shop entrance) and bought top end model comps of enormous harddrives had stopped even for a moment to think about how one tiny poxie popup program can hide anywhere within it, and how too, it could result in either hours on those malware removal forums, or hours trying to back up the files somewhere else to reinstall the system again, but no, these joes could not see this pitfall, and so joe duncehead, has given the goblin the comp saying "here you are, and what you think of my jazzy computer eh?" to which the goblin is supposed to say " ..gosh, what a wonderful comp the great ork(boss) has sold you there joe..", knowing full well that joe uses it for the internet, email and sudoku puzzles. ".. ah well at least in good old rain'ile-sur-mer(Britain) they don't have all this swiss style keeping up with the joe dunceheads", he thought, rain or no rain

repost from the goblin's blog

4) in fact, the goblin had just got so frigging fed up with joe's comp that he simpluy restored it instead, result being: "comp 1- goblin 0" then, so that when joe asked for his comp back the goblin then explained that Joe now had more free space on his harddrive than any other Joe in cuckooland(switzerland) to which joe smiled the whole length from one clearly empty ear along to the other, and walked off down the street as if showing everyone just what a "large empty harddrive" he now had, while meanwhile, the great ork behind the barrier(counter) charms one of the females with choice words like "ma belle, the color of this computer so matches your eyes now, and imagine your contours on a tropical beach where everyone would envy you your own computer then", the goblin let be, knowing that she didn't care that the ork didn't know the first thing about what he was selling, didn't matter, she just wanted more, the comp would sell and even if it worked perfectly she would still return first light to plead "...oh, please could just show me how to press the on-switch once more..." for she would get her money's worth and the goblin just concluded that [b]shopping was lovemaking for older people[/b], - oh, and if the ork then called him over to press the [i]on switch[/i] for them again it had to be done with all the goblin majesty and style he could muster, saying "... now watch very carefully please..." but they would then be chatting anyway, as that [i]eye-contact[/i] thing, those long pauses and deep breaths too, whatever, took over, till after a few moments the goblin would be called over yet again to do it just one more time. "...oh yes, anything to please..." the goblin thought as the great ork's charm was legendary

[img]http://i997.photobucket.com/albums/af98/lyiono1/vlcsnap-2010-04-11-17h00m33s45.png[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

5) oh and why o why, the goblin wondered, were the computer mags in the newsagents always on the very top shelf right next the girly ones, but always it was then "... excuse me, could you reach me down a copy of [i]computertech[/i] mag next to [i]bigbouncybonkers[/i] please...", the girl would then come with a readied brown paper bag and those disdainful looks that would somehow freeze fire

[img]http://www.theblogmocracy.com/wp-content/uploads/Paper-Bags.jpg[/img]


repost from the goblin's blog

7)today the goblin was sad because the great ork said "..thanks for really helping out this month goblin, go ahead take something from the shelf if you like.." as the goblin's last day there at the cave ended, he just took a USB key for keepsake and thought: "...no, I can take being dumped from one malware removal forum after another, banned from those writer's forums too, together with those edits and thread deletions then, but this is harder to deal with, as this is a debt to dailylife...", and either way then, it would be an airplane flight to rain'ile-sur-mer(britain) tomorrow, and that great wonders of wonders loonyville (london) and with that he knew too, that his next post to here would probably be from his childhood timeworp of dungford village in devon, "....well enough of these[i] got to get ahead[/i] joe dunceheads here then...." the goblin voiced to himself, continuing "...it's time to cut the [i]neat freak[/i] and dress down and gorp, yes that's it, we need to practice westcountry english once more like [i]Izabegoingden[/i] [i]therebecowsamilking[/i], [i]youzabereadingthispostyoube[/i], etc., ..."

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/mars-attacks4-9650.jpg[/img]

"...thanks...." said the goblin who had seen the humans were in a good humor on the board at least, now that he himself had reached the little village of dungford in devon. "...london city airport..." he concluded "....is the best way into london then, I mean bags don't end up in new york and there is now the underground direct to bank station, but perhaps I should explain in more detail then..." continued the goblin "...well first off one arrives and joins the queue at pastport control..." remembered the goblin, where one says "..Izabecominggeneva and Izabegoingdevon..." where the nice man gives you a form to fill in, which reads

[tt]welcome to the united kingdom, please note that all you cuckooclockland neatfreaks are kindly reminded to leave this country as they find it and to kindly accept that london is never going to be tidy and clean, I hereby state that I have read this statement and will follow to the letter this instruction accordingly, to be signed on the dotted line......[/tt]

where next there was customs
"...hello sir may I see you bag, did you pack it yourself, what are all the CDs then..."
"...Izabegoingdevon airszabe comps a repairing..."
"...msXP-vlk-crackedlincence,msWorkscracked, bypass'passwords, reverse enginering, licence hacks, etc., etc..."
"...theysabe CDs for compsarepairing..."
"... I see, no riped DVDs then, no ****stuff amongst them either I hope..."
"...no, theys ainna be ****stuff norra ****films like.."
"...thank you sir and welcome to london then..."
And with that our goblin was in loonyville...

[img]http://i123.photobucket.com/albums/o297/riskyxending/one%20person%20pictures/z80505934.jpg[/img]

9)"...thanks.."once again the goblin knew that this was all helping the humans learn to read so he continued. Now once clear of the airport building itself, one finds oneself in the station, where London underground has gone out of its way to modernise the way it sells tickets, - yes away with that long queue infront of the ticket office then, now one just stands infront of a ticket machine and wonders where one is, where one wants to go to, which zones does that cross and what coins does the machine acept, in short, one gorps between the map, the names of the stations, the coins in ones hand oh and upwards for some if not any devine intervention, no such luck, - instead there is a man who stands by the machine saying to each and every person wishing to buy a ticket "...can I help you sir..." so the goblin explains "... Izabecoming from geneva and Izabe eating chinese in Soho and then Izabe catching the bus for Devon I be.." "...no problem, put your money in here and I will press the button for you, right, done, and here's your ticket and change then, have a nice day, next please..." a process this goblin thought of as a new-fully-autimated-whops-guess-we-forgot-about-the-human-part-again-same-as-before kind-of-thing. Anyway, boarding the train, it was good to see all the litter on the seats and floor again, and that the driver was not driving this new-type train, no infact he was asking everyone to show him their tickets just in case anyone who had got off a plane, that could understand the ticket-machine, might actually go on to fiddle the fare, anyway the goblin settled in and admired those views that this new-type train had to offer of London's Eastend building sites and junk yards set to a matching background of wondrous gray, he was lost for words and wondered if a photo would do it justice then, well that or break the camera

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/3738-1280x1024.jpg[/img]

[img]http://i38.tinypic.com/n69xjb.jpg[/img]

 10)"...well it's a cow cultivating cultivated culture.." sums up his lot thinks the goblin, the village has only had a cave(shop) for two years now and the new ork(new boss) is very different from the one he had in goonville, so too were the humans, no Joe Dunceheads here. details to follow...

repost from elsewhere, the goblin's journal

"...life is odd..." said the goblin who had just returned from a conversation with his mother who after two months had been allowed to return home from hospital, their conversation was typical of all those he had with her and at least she was well though she couldn't really be left alone for long

"...ah, I see you're awake, would you like to get up..."
"...where's grandma..."
"...she passed away long ago..."
"...oh, and where's the other one..."
"...dad's gone up into the village to do some shopping..."
"...ah, you have lost weight..."
"...I would like to do the bed, would you like to get up..."
"...where's the doctor(dad again)..."
"...dad's gone up into the village to do some shopping..."
"...I cannot hear what you are saying, come nearer..."
"...would you like a coffee..."
"...funny that the doctor would choose to go shopping at this moment when will he be back?"
"...soon, I will go and make you a coffee then..."
she comes into the kitchen, the goblin hands her a coffee
"Where's the doctor..."
"...dad's gone up into the village to do some shopping..."
"...ah, you have lost weight...."
"...here's your coffee then...."
"...oh, can you drink coffee your parents must be very proud of you, where is grandma..."
"....she passed away long ago..."
"...oh, you can drink coffee your parents must be very proud of you, you have lost weight, where's the doctor..."
The goblin by now had got used to this conversation and realized that any conversation was after all better than no reaction

11)"...now having a cave(computer shop)..." started the goblin, continuing "...in a village geared to cows is an uneasy truce at best, somehow the converts are matched by the diehards here, and the one thing that makes the natives restless is the fear that they will have to upgrade their televisions from analog to digital, and guess who represents this unwanted progress, oh but yes, the new ork and his assistant goblin,  add to this that soon window98se is not going to be supported and those images of dr. Frankenstein being chased out the village by the mob with pitchforks and torches do not seem so far fetched...

[img]http://deathby1000papercuts.com/wp-content/uploads/2009/12/angry_mob.png[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

as always the goblin thanks the humans for their coments but today the goblin was wondering about the new ork who was unlike any other ork he knew, in that his old ork(in the cave in goonville) didn't know about comps, so he had hired goblins in to cover for that, something both understandable and clear, but the new ork here in dungford was in effect a goblin too, he could build and mend comps but somehow it all stopped there, he had no interest in comps, in fact the ork originally had been invited to britain by the local cricket club to act as coach, moreover, he didn't have a comp at home, he didn't surf, and the sole thing he did on his comp in the cave was [i]slotmachine gambling[/i], oh and taking bets on horses on behalf of his friends and fellow cricket players.

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/bsod.jpg[/img]

14)"...the old lady.."explained the goblin "...who lives in the small house in front of the cave is a good friend but has just been knocked over by a reversing car..." no this time the goblin was not the driver, "...it turns out that it was someone in one of these big 'four wheel drives' who had just turned the key in the lock and the car had lurched backwards; so there she was flat on the ground with people, who had come out of their houses to help, followed by a policecar that turned up, followed by an ambulance that is, all to take her to Exeter hospital, - except that this old lady would have none of it because she feared catching something in hospital, she just kept on telling them to take her home and lie her flat on the couch; so after about an hour rangling between the old lady on the ground, the police and the ambulancemen, she was put of a wheelchair and carted down the street by the ambulanceman followed by the policeman with everyone going home..." anyway, looking at this the goblin wondered if the idea of the gentil old lady was a myth

16)The goblin wondered what is the point of being a goblin at all where village life, that is if 'life' could be attributed to a place geared to cows and where comps were seen as an unwelcome sign of an unwanted progress; worse, he feared that now he himself was becoming somehow bovine in outlook, - in fact, he said "...well if I stay here much longer I might turn into Daisy the cow..." said the cow.

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/surrender-1.jpg[/img]

repost from the goblin's blog

"...well just let me rant this morning..." said the goblin "...one of the biggest problems at the moment is that my mother wants to go upstairs, and yet she broke her wrist falling down the steps in the garden, she broke her arm just falling forward on the path up to the road and now even though we put a child-gate on the bottom of the stairs she wants to go upstairs where going upstairs isn't a problem for the elderly as coming down them afterward, now in the case that she does get passed the gate and arrives upstairs, then my father and I have to sit her on her bottom to make sure that she sits on each step in turn, lastly, a normal person would learn from their mistakes, something that doesn't happen here in my night shift so a conflict of interests rages and if in the morning she gets up before my father has dressed then the problem is there too..." in fact, the goblin wondered how long this situation could continue but it was only one amongst many it seemed

repost from the goblin's blog

18)bedtime and the goblin's mother has taken a bunch of grapes, plucked them and put them into a bowl where she sprinkles some sugar over them and some olive oil too topped off by soy-sauce, the goblin gets to the mix before she notices, washes the grapes clean and gives them back saying "...bon appetite..."

19)the goblin sits by his mother who is slowly going through the photo album that he brought to please her, she is very happy and explains the photo one by one while the goblin looks on. After about half an hour she comes to the last page and the goblin thinks that he has done his good deed for the day when she starts turning the pages in the other direction, you see he had forgotten that albums unlike books can be read both ways

20)the goblin wonders why on a peaceful sunday morning there has to be a half hour's peal of church bells, he doesn't notice anyone getting up so he supposes that it had to be done to remind everyone to wash their cars today, oh and to put out the black bags out tonight for the monday's collection

21)here as always it's rain beyond reason and the goblin watches the man on television talking about the present water shortage

23)the goblin had seen that he hadn't written in a while and yet he had been waiting for something wild to happen... um that wait grows longer it seems, english villages are not really known for it

[img]http://images.24ur.com/media/images/600xX/Apr2012/60914995.jpg?d41d[/img]

24)the goblin, who knew summer was slowing everything - including himself - down to watching the one white cloud drift across the off blue sky, knew too that the theory of relativity put it that [i]the faster the object moves the slower moment in time it had[/i] but somehow this village didn't seem any quicker however much movement the goblin frantically made

repost from elsewhere

25)the goblin mind is fuelled on coffee, the empty jars begin to fill the bag until the great moment where he can walk his mum up passed the churchyard, yes the one where he thinks he hears a faint chorus of [i]our father who art in heaven give us our football for we football with them who football against us and lead us not into offside[/i], etc.,", to the skip where he gives his mother each jar in turn to be tumbled into the crunchy mass of broken glass below, "...ah now..." he voices to her "...how nice to see where once we had [i]slash and burn[/i]' we now have [i]trash and return[/i]'..." the jars now trashed they returned homewards

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/03.jpg[/img]

26)"...thanks.." said the goblin who wondered if he were not older for living with old people then, part of him rebelled, he felt himself longing for a disco and techno music, the village offered a few pubs, gardening and the television, he had not written his blog in weeks but now that he had started other thoughts returned to him, he would write on then.

27)"...days pass..." thought the goblin "...ah, but there is always the garden..." he had by now long accepted that whereas some native Americans might dance to cause rain, most Brits did their gardens hoping the sun would show up. His mother didn't care about that though, she just wanted to tidy up the long path up to the street with a hedge beside it, trim and sweep, pile and burn, repeat about seven days a week and observe an English version of a Japanese stone-garden. The neighbors look on as leaf by leaf the whole hedge is slowly snipped away.

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/topiarybuxfigolifant.jpg[/img]

28)The goblin used the spell check when he remembered but then again if he didn't see that he had missspelled something he felt that the humans wouldn't notice either, they after all had football and not that he didn't support England fully in its inevitable defeat, he just worried that all this strain was making the natives in the village somewhat restless, noting that they had just had a village fate in support of the church with the usual raffle for a large bottle of whiskey, stalls of jam and cakes, second hand books, a school band(playing we all live in a yellow submarine, nicely put) and of course all types of garden plants, - in fact, it was just how it had been in his childhood and probably how it had been in roughly the same form since pagan times yet in those times too the goblin imagined that religion was not mentioned as it might get in the way of what was going on

repost from the goblin's blog

The goblin noted that the local swimming pool is now open three months of the year and whose owner who is always out to make it pay has come up with this novel idea "the family card" to entice the locals to turn up, yet the goblin also thought that perhaps the owner had over simplified things this time, after all in this village where everyone is related to everyone else, the pool owner will only have to issue one family card

[IMG]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/saving-money.jpg[/img]

 30)Crunchtime, politely the new ork had asked the goblin to leave the shop or at least not be there so much and the goblin understood that even though he had done his best to be quiet, civil and helpful, it was useless if the new ork didn't see that in him "...oh well.." he thought "...I was a fly on his wall, now I will be a bee in his bonnet I suppose, and since the post office has a notice board and I don't need any money I will just put up an add saying that I would mend comps for free..." - in fact, he had no intention of letting rip, nor one of overt revenge but he knew where he stood and borrowed some words he liked: "...it is the duty of an opposition to offer an alternative..."

31)The goblin looks down at the add he has made for the postoffice board:
"...herezabe a free computer self-help line dungford333333 and Izabe local I be, if youa phone youlla get Iza answering your question like, there ainta fee but itza more selfhelp it be, orra emailza I on fleamailman@rain'ile sur mer.co.uk...." he hopes where high, the sun seemed a fire in the sky.

from the goblin's journal

at first glance the goblin’s mother does not resemble a leaf-cutter ant though her attitude towards the hedge gives one ample ground for this interpretation at least, after all the ant does not see the hedge in any term of proportion and symmetry, no it sees the hedge as lots of little leaf bits there to snip off and carry back to the pile exactly in the same way the goblin’s mother does too, ah, but there was yet another interpretation here, that his mother, in liking to snip off any bit of the hedge that sticks out, had somehow missed the observation that a hedge in made up of lots of bits that stick out which are in turn stuck to bigger bits that stick to the biggest bit, the one that sticks out of the ground, where in fact he goblin also wondered if those people now growing ever more clearly through the other side of the hedge were thinking upon those same lines while they pulled their hair out, perhaps they saw the limitation of they're doing that, “…so perhaps dungford village..., …” the goblin concluded fearing what would happen next she didn't stop, concluding his line here “…might not get the UK's village of the year award this year after all…”

[img]http://i92.photobucket.com/albums/l18/fleamailman/article-1302027510132-0b7cb69500000578-118738_636x314_zps8f5f7ad1.jpg[/img]

from the goblin's journal

the goblin looked down at his coffee, he knew that organic somehow meant tasteless and here he was stuck in dungford vilage's one and only health-food cafe-restaurant shop whose sole redemption seemed to be its connection to the internet, probably organic too, definitely old then, not that the goblin was on-line today though, just that he felt that somewhere behind the piles of organic jumbo oats, fresh fruit and vegetables too if he avoided overt eye contact, something he had learned form david attinbourgh’s[i] life of primates[/i], that whose women might take less affront to his using a laptop in the heart of what was after all their realm watching their slow transformation from reckless youth perhaps, into single mother, on to solid english matron and final OAP status, all a superficial interpretation perhaps, one belittling their effort to attain that true state of "attitude" towards everything and everybody, no he wanted to write more, he was finding his observations interesting even unto himself for once yet, wheat with the approach of lunchtime, he remembered that david attinbourough had only pretended to eat the foliage, whereas the goblin on seeing that the floor was bare might not be so lucky

[img]http://i179.photobucket.com/albums/w295/crinny13/winner%20and%20throne/ghost3.jpg[/img]
xxxx

repost from the goblin's journal

next day of many, the organic coffee sits in the cup while the goblin sits in the shop, empathy but no convergence then as his earplugs cannot quite muffle enough the laughs and thrills the women are having as the drift of their conversation slowly passes from the traits of punters to shaving ones leg's, where the goblin dared not move and yet his mind still couldn't focus on his own thoughts about how to go about starting the computer self-help line in a place where the computers were like UFOs to them, as he the voiced "...Izabe goblin, Iva started Intergalatic spacecraft repairs self-help line like in dungford village that be, any problems with portal transportation, alien abductions, and time-travel emailza I on fleamailman@rain'ile sur mer.co.uk..." while his mind raced on in thoughts of those abductions, aliens, crop circles, other signs of the other world stuff then, "...ah, but of course, why that is it, the answer, now why didn't I think of that before..." exclaimed the goblin to himself going " ... I will put an ad in the parish magazine then...", drink-rings had developed in his coffee cup and an hour had passed as he warned himself not to think too much in future since that jumped the clock upon him but then again he just reminded himself that he was in dungford village where time didn't mean much anyway

find pic

repost from the goblin's journal

the goblin had walked the church path to an auction in the village hall and somehow the noise of a frantically flapping flag had contrasted well with the stillness of the bodies below his feet, somehow the feeling was not spooky but it was old as if everything in dungford village clung back onto the past, "...we become our own ghosts..." he voiced out to the graveyard but they would probably know that already he guessed as his mother now lived more and more with her ghosts at this point then, where she would ask after them by name, setting places for them at table too, and where any refutal by her goblin son was soon drowned under those feelings she held towards them still, so the goblin had just learned to let her ghosts be

[img]http://i36.tinypic.com/nqpafa.jpg[/img]