36 - in which Chumba Wumba and Aargen Darvurg call on the gnomiki

Chumba Wumba, you're looking terrible!

Oh, thanks Aargen Darg - you're looking half-dead yourself!

How’s beetling?

Aargen pops Chumba an image of his latest mount:

N-i-c-e!

And you?

Not doing so badly either:

Awesome!

The troll and the goblin are old friends, as you can probably tell. Assigned to the fearsome side of form, they set little store by physical appearance. These two, who could so easily have been the “bad guys” in this or any other tale, are in fact the ones chosen by Story to... but that would be telling.

They're assigned to life-matter curve maintenance – a job only for the more experienced g-nomi.

What on Earth's happened to your part of the curve Chumba? – it's looking... bizarre. Never seen anything like it!

Me neither. It's Josh, I suspect. He's been putting some unusual loads on the system recently.

"Has he now – tell me more..." Aargen inquires.

Well yes, obviously you're aware the Matrix went down for 1,300 years.

Of course I'm aware, but that wouldn't have done this to the curve.

No – that's true. It's probably his blog.

His what?

You know, he's been keeping a blog – writing about you and me and everything under the sun.

Whatever next? I expect he's made us look pretty unsavoury.

You get off lightly Aargen – you're like his exotic, almost pin up goblin friend, whereas I'm the evil bogeyman – the butt of his peculiar slapstick humour.

Well, that's not all together surprising, is it Chumba? You do have a, what shall I call it, a certain manner.

Now don't you start – I've had about enough from him and all the blog readers – g-nomers he calls them – bloody cheek – the way I'm being presented, it's little short of racism. 

That's a point – we should run a troll rehabilitation campaign as Hermione Granger does with house elves at Hogwarts.

Don't you dare Aargen – the last thing I want is to be pitied by a load of obnoxious human folk.

Oh Chumba – I think it's time you came to Goblin. You need to see these humans from a fresh perspective. They really do make such excellent domestic dwellings. You might start to like them if you spent a week or two living in one – and their conversation's so much more intelligent on my side of the life-matter curve.

Yes – it could hardly be less intelligent could it – I mean the words "bottom of the barrel" do tend to spring to mind rather frequently when it's my mixed pleasure to engage them in dialogue.

Come on Chumba, what’s got into you?

Well just look at this curve? It’s not natural. It shouldn’t be that way.

You’re absolutely right. It looks like something pretty major’s afoot.

You’re telling me – and as far as I’m concerned, it’s all to do with the humankind and the game of brinkmanship they’ve been playing with Reality.

Yeah – pushing Story to the absolute limit, like there's no tomorrow. We’re coming up for some big denouement, that's for sure.

Absolutely – in fact, [looking more closely] – see this section here?... and this one?... Aargen points at two sections of the life-matter curve – either they’re about to pull apart completely – or we’re in for some kind of inversion.

That’s it Aargen – you’ve hit the nail on the head. I half suspected inversion was on the cards, but something held me back from stating it openly. Fear, I suppose.

Yeah Chumba, observe how your dis-ease vis-à-vis humanfolk has kept you snarled in this loop – but that’s presumably how it is supposed to be. Story has an uncanny habit of writing us into the most outlandish roles.

So how come you get to play enlightened goblin, whereas I’m terrorising troll?

Good question – presumably that was the most elegant way to engineer the kind of kink in the curve we’re seeing right here – oh wow – look at that – it’s hardly holding together at all. I think it’s time we brought in the gnomiki.

Do you think so? Aren’t we supposed to do this all ourselves?

I think we’ve already done everything we could. A little technical expertise would certainly be appreciated right now.

The two of them stare in disbelief as the life-matter curve, usually stately, stable and beautiful to behold starts oscillating like a snake, twisting, gyrating...

Gnomiki, gnomiki, gnomiki – we cordially request your council here and now – signed C. Wumba, A. Darvurg.

The text is delivered instantaneously – releasing a small green light orb that conveys the message – received with thanks; reviewing; expect answer forthwith.

In truth, neither Chumba nor Aargen are sure whether they should attempt to stabilise the life matter curve as they normally would, thereby preserving status quo throughout the universe – or simply stand back and allow the inevitable to happen. This is looking increasingly like an act of God, and they have no desire to come between Creator and the whole of Creation. That would be a lesson in futility, so they start humming the Beatle hit "Let it be" to calm their mounting anxiety.

– Ah! there you are... Nice to see you Wumba, you too Darvurg. [You’ll notice the gnomiki are a little old fashioned in this respect, and still generally use surnames when addressing us]

Chumba and Aargen are visibly relieved to see the gnomiki have responded so swiftly.

But who? What? I hear you enquire, has come to their assistance.

Dot₃ moment... you see the gnomiki are a collective consciousness, so you’re never really sure who or what. It’s just the gnomiki, no matter which particular emissary. This one has taken a form that is appropriate to both Chumba and Aargen – not too tall to make them feel small, neither too small to make them feel uncomfortably large, a little blotchy around the gills to avoid being too breathtakingly beautiful in the presence of an earthy goblin and a trucular troll.

–  Ah yes, it’s happening at last. Funny it should be on your watch... says the chest high, green being of Faery extraction, shining the kind of light that indicates the multiverse is in safe hands – nothing is being left to chance.

–  Funny? Aargen and Chumba both repeat more or less simultaneously.

Their interlocutor arches her eyebrows, obviously impressed by their synchronicity.

Yes, don’t you find it amusing?

Now here’s where the magic of gnomiki kicks in. 1 ten thousandth of a second before Sphalisana had makes her cryptic remark, neither Chumba nor Aargen had thought there was anything remotely amusing in this, but what a difference 1 ten thousandth of a second can make. The two of them quite suddenly look at one another and a wave of mirth, pure unbridled, golden mirth pours forth – dissolving, dissolving, dissolving everything and anything that stands in its path. So intense is this mirth that the two are hardly sure how to react. Raucous laughter would not match the frequency. Nor would chuckling or giggling or any other form of laughter we’re familiar with. The laughter that erupts is in fact silent, coming as it does from every cell in their body. Just imagine that! Just imagine every cell in your body laughing in sync and feeling this laughter connecting you into the very fabric of reality – the matter of life, the life of matter.

Had they been laughing at a lesser frequency, the two of them might have glanced around, eyes wide with alarm – for it might have seemed ferocious, and threatened them with instantaneous dismemberment or aortic rupture, but this laughter – so close to being ferocious, so close to being destructive, in fact lifts them beyond the danger zone. They find themselves swept into the life-matter curve, troll and goblin, where they finally grok, getting what they’re laughing about – and getting it’s the final straw, the final lever of abandonment releasing the eschatological deluge of madcap mirth.

And what?

Very difficult to say. A 36 track recording. In one of the tracks – the final one – they are playing a game of billiards with Sphalisana on an emerald table with opal balls skittering back and forth. The game itself is of little note, barring the fact that players and balls are in complete awareness of what is unfolding. Instead of trying to pot the balls as fast as possible and win – they allow the Story within game to unfold in all its beauty, and thus the many intricate connections, trajectories, misses and collisions write the programme code for the new life-matter curve. In another track we see a beetle flying into the head of an obviously bewildered Josh, and as you've probably realised, every track corresponds with a chapter in g-nome portal story-blog, in which you the reader play the part of screen on which the tale is told.

You mean the gnomiki have used this story-blog to reverse engineer the life-matter curve, and we've been unwitting accomplices? 

What attentive readers you are – and yes – it’s been a pleasure working with you on this project. It should hardly come as a surprise to you, One and all, to know that you have been unwitting, yet in merry truth, full-witted accomplices in this upgrade of our Reality Story. I’m pleased to say it’s been a complete success – somewhat prematurely to be sure, yet not without a...

A what?

Not without a dot₃ of certainty.

Goodness gracious! What on Earth next!

Yes, it’s my favourite paradox – I like to save it for special celebratory moments such as the present one.

Not without a dot₃ of certainty...   and our beloved reader finds her/himself melting in the mirth of moment, adding her own priceless contribution – the magic of laughter, its light, love and life-force to the already re-self-extrapolating life-matter curve and, at this moment, without a shadow of doubt, together we see, we feel and know that life does in deed matter, and so does this – our billiard game of words, in which we play to perfection our roles without even knowing it...

Sphalisana and her many are One celebrate through the night in a distinctly Narnian scene of regeneration and rebirth. Evidently Aslan has returned, and all the trees, and rivers and birds and beasts, yea, even the humankind have come together once again, in one accord, to celebrate the great and auspicious moment known to goblins as the 27^th and to humans, euphemistically, as Big Bang. For a while our readers remain somewhat sheepishly in the shadows, but then the music and merriment lifts them too into the dancing free-for-all and now, at last, we are One, One, One... and nothing else remains.