Thoughts in Light of Recent Events

grey area quoteA couple of months ago, I wrote about what I expected to get out of quitting my part-time job. In truth, quitting my job has left me feeling (perpetually) uneasy. I no longer have the option to fall back on bakery work if I fail to find a full-time job, and I am gradually chipping away at my hard-earned savings. Though, with nothing to fall back on, I have no choice but to work hard towards securing my dream job, so in a way, quitting has been a positive move towards my (hopefully) bright future. Quitting my job has also allowed me to spend more time with family and friends; this has been invaluable.

Clearly, risk-taking has its perks, and its consequences; I guess you just have to take the good with the bad. Having said that, it is not my belief that one can easily brush off the feelings that come with unemployment. I can’t even begin to imagine how unemployment would feel with a family to support. In instances like this, people will reach out to those around them. Through this, some will be told that their situation could be worse; other major issues exist in the world. In the past, I’m sure I’ve been guilty of making these judgements myself. But, what I’ve come to realise recently, is that the issues of someone who has been born into privilege, and the issues of someone who has been born into disadvantage, are not mutually exclusive. Hurt is hurt. When someone expresses feelings of hurt in a time when many are dealing with tragedy, it does not mean they believe their feelings are more important than those of others who are suffering.

Having said that, I do think it can be beneficial at times for individuals to take a step back, reflect, and be thankful for what they have. Turning twenty-one last week, worries were playing on my mind about my future. These worries were disrupted when I learned of the terror attacks in Paris and Beirut. On my birthday, I was very thankful to have made it to twenty-one. For a while, my thoughts will surely be consumed with the ‘what ifs’ of my future, but that doesn’t mean I’ll feel any less for the people of France and Lebanon, and for all the people of the world who are suffering.   It would take pages and pages for me to tackle these issues of which I have merely brushed the surface.

Being a very indecisive person, I have a tendency to look at life differently with every changing hour, so I rarely have total confidence in my opinions. I often find my opinion swayed by content online, only to have it swayed again (even a minute later) by a comment posted under an article. Until recently, I’ve viewed debates as wrong or right, black and white. But, now I’ve come to realise that most issues have large grey areas.

I guess we can only try our best to stay as informed as possible, and we can spread awareness about issues through providing those around us with information (without being nasty and condescending of course). Hate is the motive for many attacks that have occurred, and will occur, around the world; kindness is needed now, more than ever.

 

Carmel Purcell

 

Sir P Speaks: Bon Voyage

Lovely Sir Partridge,

What countries should I visit and why? I ask because though you think your self-published travel books don’t have a fan base, there are those of us who can’t get enough of such titles as Confessions of a Naughty Travel Writer and The Gormley Archipelago: Islands I Have Been To.

In fact, I would like to become a travel writer too. How do I do it?

Also, are you available as a travelling companion?

Yours (always)

Titania Trumpet-Sock

vintage travel 10

Dear T

You’re right of course. I am a superb travel writer and it’s shocking that this has gone unnoticed by the countless publishers I’ve sent my manuscripts to.

No, I will not travel with you because I find your name disturbing and I sense in you a certain fanaticism. I imagine that were we to meet you would remain in a state of catatonic adoration, staring at me for hours with eyes the size of mad saucers.

Still, here’s some advice. I have always ensured I visit countries in clumps and that they have some kind of connection with one another. This imbues one’s journey with meaning, however spurious. For instance, in my book An Eye for an I, all of the countries I visited began with the letter ‘I’ and had vengeance as a national characteristic, namely: Iceland (Viking sagas); Italy (mafia payback); India (Hindu-Muslim tensions etc); Ireland (the Troubles); and so on. Brilliant when you think about it.

Likewise, in my book The Monosyllabic Empire, I spent a fortune visiting the five countries in the world with only one syllable (France, Guam, Greece, Laos and Chad). It turns out that they have little in common beyond this charming quirk of pronunciation.

Becoming a travel writer is quite easy as long as you have little wish to be read. I can only write against the market rather than for it and I have no regrets. All travel books are feats of colossal self-indulgence masquerading as acts of generosity. I have no truck with such hypocrisy. I prefer to nail my colours to the mast. Hence my true masterpieces include Travels with my Tract: Getting Caught Short in the World’s Most Inconvenient Places, and An Aladdin’s Cave: A Voyage into the Treasure House that is the Gormley Mind.

Here’s an excerpt from the latter:

Stone Town, Zanzibar, 14 October 2011

At 7.13am, woke up from fevered dream in which I was on a speeding train crowded with people, one of whom had decided to bring eight Irish wolfhounds. The man released the hounds and suddenly I was under desperate attack. To save myself I somehow managed to hurl most of them to their death through an open door.

At our destination, the dogs’ owner summoned the police and pressed charges. I was led away by a constable who, I noticed in shock and disgust, was none other than myself.

Constable Gormley realised the dog-killing charges wouldn’t stick so as we passed a pub, he asked the owner for advice on how to frame me. ‘Get him on trafficking prescription drugs’ was the publican’s cheery response. Then I woke up.

Spent the rest of the day thinking about why I find coins so fascinating, regretting that I haven’t joined the Navy, wishing gladiators were still an entertainment option, and wondering why life seems so hard when most of the time it really isn’t.

I also favour the 18th century tradition of putting as much in the title as possible. Of all my 34 books, my favourite is: A Long and Dreary Sojourn in Slippers across the Shetland Islands, Taking in Such Unremarkable but Absurdly-Named Villages as Grutness, Drong and Clab, in Near-Horizontal Sleet while Regretting that I’d Ended what was (in Retrospect) a Promising Relationship with a Young Lady who would have made an Excellent Travelling Companion and Mender of Broken Hire Cars.

I hope this helps.

Yours

Gormley

 

Conan Elphicke

Sir Partridge Gormley’s emissions are rendered as coherent as they can be by the ever-patient @ConanElphicke. If you are confused and bewildered, and we suspect you are, by all means send your queries to thecringeblog@gmail.com.