Chapter 11 - in which the goblins take me in

That’s the strange thing about language – you never can be too sure what it’s saying. Ambiguity abounds, does it not? Was I "taken in" by the goblins hospitably as a guest, or was I hoodwinked, fooled, deceived? You just can’t tell from that short sentence – which is probably why language is vastly overrated as a means of communication, unless by “communication” you’re referring to spreading doubt and confusion.

Here in Goblin they have a different way of communicating and I’m not referring to telepathy. Don’t get me wrong – they’re perfectly able to use telepathy if they wish to avoid confusion or ambiguity, but half the fun of communication is where it mistakenly leads you – so they’ve made an art form of it. Instead of writing the way we do, by putting together logical sentences of words, they use grunts which are like letters. There are several hundred grunts – or multiples of that if you consider tonal variations. Rather than thinking what they’re trying to say and proceeding accordingly, they use goblin magic and select random grunts, snarlings, snorts, whistles and whinings and, hey presto, there you have it – an unbreakable code.

This would all seem like a complete waste of time were it not for the fact that nature abhors a vacuum. An unbreakable code is the closest you can get to a perfect vacuum linguistically speaking, so nature flips reality and fills the unbreakable code with a unique stream of sense and meaning. The end result is that the readers of the gibberish that was written according to the strictest principles of indeterminacy find themselves spontaneously gleaning sense and meaning from what can only be described as a quantum language. It exists only in the reading of the particular text. Astonishing, if you think about it. You know exactly what you’re reading, but you can’t for the life of you tell how you know what you know. Nature does it all for you.

Goblins apply the same principle to almost everything they do. If they require a new dwelling place – what we’d call a house, they don’t plan it and build it according to that plan. They go out and search for seemingly random objects – a pine cone, a stone, a motorbike, a dirty wrapper, a few words that were overheard at the bus stop, a look of confusion, concern or consternation that was seen on the old woman’s face, a cloud that floated the wrong way – there’s always one – and anything else that they feel inspired to use for the purpose in hand. All these objects and non-objects are brought back to the new dwelling site, and in accordance with their notions of music, dance, poetry and non-sense these objects are given to the moment. Now remember that Goblin is not space-time as our reality but time-space – so the moment is a place where you can store and position objects, just as a shelf is in our reality. That moment then acts as a kind of seed. If it is watered with care and attention for 27 days then at the end of this period a dwelling will materialise. In fact, Aargen Darvurg assures me the 27 days are not essential – that it can be done as a rushed job in 27 hours, 27 minutes or even 27 seconds, but most, I am told, prefer to make a celebration of it and use the allotted 27 days.

Well by now, dear reader, you’re probably aware that something has shifted in story – or in my version of story at least. You will recall that the last chapter ended somewhat hesitantly, even gloomily – with the words “but where to flee – I have no answer”, which was the honest truth at the time of writing, and was still true until half an hour ago, but in the meantime I discovered that Goblin has been reverse engineering a timeline for me – they’re good at doing things backwards you know – at least backwards from our perspective.

So to try and avoid over-confusing the issue – about 27 minutes ago I discovered that I have an encounter with a goblin called Aargen Darvurg. This encounter is initially the kind that elicits a Munchian scream – have a look at the picture and you’ll know what I’m talking about. Now the scream is an existential moment – it’s like you and the universe completely fall out of step, out of kilter and then swap places. Unnerving is not the word. It’s like every atom in your body has been realigned... I’ll try not to go on about it – but when to my enormous surprise I discover that I haven’t been obliterated, that in fact I’ve already been visiting Goblin for the last, yes, you’ve guessed it, 27 days, then I realise that nothing is quite as it seems.

It’s the first time in my life that I’ve ever experienced what it’s like to be a house – and I’m enjoying the experience greatly. You see, here in time-space we’re able to experience the other side of the Earthy 3D reality you know and probably cherish. Here, for example, the goblins are loving, gentle peaceful beings. Rather cute. A cross between a bunny rabbit, a chinchilla and a snowflake. Now that they’ve taken me in as one of their houses I’m plugged into the system – I’m one of them – which is a beautiful sharing, caring experience. Ah the joys of Goblini.

So why, you might ask, do they appear so frightful and demonic in our reality? Why indeed? And why were they there with King Cnut at the very inception of the dreaded Modern Era?

Ah... these are indeed good questions worthy of serious consideration. To be honest it’s difficult to answer them if you’ve not yet experiencing “what is”. If you’re still in “what matters” reality then almost everything you take for granted only makes sense because the wires are crossed.

Aargen Darvurg has been very helpful – more than helpful, I should add. Although officially I have the status of “habitable dwelling place” – goblins do not have the same fixed ideas about what matters – they do not really distinguish between biological and non-biological life forms – and on this side of creation we humans are most definitely non-biological. Aargen Darvurg is happy to maintain friendly relations with the other side of the life-matters curve – and spends many 27s of moment locked in conversation with his new dwelling place. More of that at a later date. The goblins, I need hardly add, would appreciate it if we could be a little more charitable to them in our reality, but to date they’ve had no such luck. We humans have at best ignored and more often than not demonised them.

So, where was I? Yes, things get a bit back to front in one’s mind – it’s a lot like jet lag – passing through Munch’s scream is just like passing through the vortex at the centre of our universe – and coming into the equal and opposite universe on the other side of zero point. Interestingly, their universe would be the size of a pinhead if you could transpose it into our reality, but then the same could be said of what we consider time: the whole of time in our universe would amount to 1/27 of a moment in theirs...

The mind, dear readers, if you could stroke it gently like a dear cat or dog, give it a biscuit and let it settle down for a snooze, you’ll find it much easier to tune in to Goblin – and trust me, if you would, tuning in is the only way to make head or tails of it.

So, let me give an example of how we can work with Goblin rather than trying to explain what the mind cannot yet comprehend. There’s obviously lots of negativity in our reality, and goblins are drawn in magnetically to assist with negativity – for negativity must flow through the system until it can once again become positive. So, yes, goblins in our universe are most certainly connected with all sorts of negative happenings, and if you activate your beetle mark you’ll see one standing next to Adolf Hitler grinning wickedly, but that doesn’t mean the goblin has any personal involvement in it. The goblin is more just a servant of nature – including human nature. When we closed down Faery, that didn’t make it cease to exist – it merely became invisible to us humans. Well the goblin doesn’t instigate any negativity – merely acts, dances, performs in accordance with our negative thoughts and ideas. We might unknowingly send a goblin to raid someone’s house if we’re angry with that person, or even worse. Fortunately, goblins act without malice even if we humans don’t.

Now, if you are able to face your deepest darkest fears, if you are able to face what you’ve been trying not to see – then something happens – you’re able to see the goblin. At first you’re horrified, mesmerised – it looks like the devil itself, but then nature is rightfully restored – you see your goblin transform right in front of your eyes – that all the fear and evil was being projected onto it – that goblin was just like a screen – nothing more – and you were the one filling it with your own deepest darkness.

Well folks, that may sound reassuring but trust me – it ain’t gonna help you much if and when you decide the time has come to face the goblin standing opposite you, lurking in the shadows of your fear. It’s still gonna scare the heebie jeebies out of you. It scares me just thinking about it – but fear – beloved reader – what is fear I ask you? Think of the wonder of coming back to all that is, and that fear pales to insignificance.

Because goblins are the bearers of negative polarity in our reality it means that we can use them to solve the world’s worst problems. They can handle any situation no matter how dire – for them it’s just energy. It’s amazing really – we’re so fixated with solving problems by material intervention, we fail to notice the simplest most direct route – to fix stuff at the quantum level 0=1. Goblins can take us into any disaster – like Fukushima for example – and all being equal can turn it into story.

“Er... sorry Josh, not quite sure what you’re on about...”

“Oh, nice to have you back, Zeph. "Turning it into story" is what happens when we reactivate Faery. It makes no sense whatsoever until then... Suffice it to say that you are an integral part of the entire universe – so integral that you can, at a quantum level, completely reprogram the universe, even things that have already happened, if you’re willing to do so.”

“What, you mean I can reprogram Fukushima and make it go away?”

“You can do better than that – you can use Fukushima to transform the world into a garden paradise if you so wish – but only if you reconnect Faery, otherwise you’re powerless to work with Story.”

“But Story’s just a thing you read in a book – it doesn’t alter reality.”

“Correct Zeph, that's true - there are story books but there's something else that no one talks about - Story itself. Reality isn’t going to be altered as long as you’re fixed in the linear, modern reality controlled by what King Cnut did a thousand years ago. That’s a fear based reality that is rigid and locked by all its conspirators. It’s not, however, the only reality. Once you’re ready to reconnect, reality is no longer controlled by fear or someone else’s story – you become the active force, the Storymaster.”

“Ok – so maybe I can change reality – but why would I want to work with goblins – they’re evil. I just know it.”

“Yes, they are evil and your knowledge is good as far as it goes. But it only goes as far as King Cnut. No further. If you go back before the inception of the modern era you come to Faery, and goblins are negative in the same way night is dark or the south pole of a magnet is negative. If you pass through the zero point of space and time and visit their side of the life-matter curve, you discover the positive side to their negative – and it’s a joyous sight to behold. You’re no longer trapped in a duality of good and bad. Hallelujah J