The Humble Beginnings of the Nod Gods

So, welcome to the Annals of Duplo. As an infant I 'heard' things that others didn't: the jabbering of "Uncles" who hid themselves within stones, twigs and plants. Thankfully, a friend of mine said he also beheld the "Uncles" too, which convinced me everything was fine. Unclespeak gradually disappeared only to be replaced by something more sophisticated.

If things seem a little indulgent, this is just an illusion. Bear with me! Here will be presented the development of an idea germ: a static doodle drawn by myself, aged ten, that demanded mobility - a demand duly granted through the subsequent development of techno-doodles and new innovations: buggies, trolleys, tanks, cars and bodily upgrades. Gradually, the doodle spawned progeny and the progeny were more alive than ever. They gained such mobility that they lapped at the edges of imagination to squeeze out into reality. Dangerously, they imposed themselves onto important documents: textbooks, SATS and GCSE exam papers, job applications, and perhaps the most important 'document' of all: the human brain. The difficult period from adolescence to adulthood requires a certain "short-circuiting to earth" - a submission to populist thinking: buying into certain trends (the pop music of the era - The Prodigy, Placebo, Nirvana, Chemical Bros., Wu Tang Clan or whatever), 'standardisation' of consciousness, smothering the muse, aiming for the common goals of academic and social success, the attainment of a love life, etc. However, the living doodles, with their vast energy requirements, would not allow such draining things! These doodles insisted on the consolidation of all mental faculties onto themselves in order to allow their continued growth.

Let us start at the very beginning: a 'wet break' at primary school, 1992. This is a lock-in where the rain prevents playtime from happening outside in the playing fields. Denial of physical exertion transposed playtime into the self, the mind, and thus doodles were drawn to vent the masses of energy that act upon the muse in such circumstances. I drew this thing.

Yep, it's just a face. It had been done before. A completely unoriginal thing. Nothing special. But, please, peer into its thin drooping eyes. Look at its quantum construct. It is complex. It possesses a noble modesty. It looks both inquisitive and bemused at its own situation. It's blotchy. A shy creature seemingly appealing for bodily upgrades. Lo! It is blushing in its nakedness! Surely if it is capable of embarrassment, it is also capable of joy, happiness, sorrow and anguish? Of course it is.
A friend whose name was Robert Lewis also understood that such a face should be given mobility. The gift of mobility was logical. It was ethical. We saw the plight of its disability at once, and promptly decided to name the creature as a 'God' for unremembered reasons. Perhaps there was a subconscious urge to restore the self-confidence of this poor blushing mite (now sentient). Or perhaps it resembled how we thought a God-like being should actually appear - stripped of glorious classical religious imagery. Whatever. Vehicles were designed.

The 'Gods' were born. They soon became known as Nod Gods. This name is given because in their natural state, the only way for the Gods to move is by rapidly rocking back and forth in a nodding movement. This enables them to move about, albeit sorely, in a frenzy of nodding. It is interesting to note that by envisioning the nodding motion, the Nod God had now broken free from two-dimensional constraints. The nodding Nod God dragging itself along the ground was no longer a circular being, it was a spherical being; nodding backwards and forwards in three-dimensional space. This is indicative of its ability to occupy multiple dimensions at once (we will see it much later spilling into an even higher dimension). Nod was also assigned a clunky acronym: Nobody on Defence. It sounded sort of important but didn't mean anything - the idea was to be interesting.

I tried to rope in other individuals to see what kind of solutions for the Nod Gods they would come up with, and what facial expressions their Nod Gods would have. They supplied some drawings, but seemed a little timid as they sketched. Perhaps I was egging on the classmates to draw things they didn't really want to draw? Perhaps they secretly knew the true power of doodling and its dangers? They seemed restrained.
Some time later, during a 'reading session' I threw a Terry Pratchett book at fellow Nod God initiate Robert for no solid reason. This was a vulgar and arrogant abeyance on my part. I was an E-number affected arsehole, frustrated by the occasional ridicule of other classmates who were unreceptive to the concept of Nod Gods, and with whom Robert consorted to my disappointment. The book throwing incident severed the friendship, and as I was too proud and cowardly to apologise, I tried to funnel apologetic energies psychically into the care of Nod Gods to deliver to Robert. But then primary school ended and secondary school began with a brand new assemblage of people. I was never sure if Robert ever received the psychic message of apology from the Nod Gods, although it seems he did, because quite recently, following a chance sequence of events, I re-established contact with him and he seemed cool. I dared not mention that Nod Gods were still at the forefront of my thoughts for fear of ridicule.

Soon, all this self-indulgent rambling will give way to some good info, bear with me kind reader. Now it must be asked - why didn't the Nod Gods fade from memory? How did they grow to occupy higher dimensions? Why did they end up being scrawled onto job applications and other inappropriate places? A clue lies in a book published 1929 by a lady called Alexandra David-Néel, called 'Magic and Mystery in Tibet', concerning her travels and experiences... All will be explained!