Last night, I had to sit through "The Social Network". It was on TV, so it wasn't as bad as having had to watch it in a cinema. But it was dire, all the same. Apparently, it won dozens of Oscars. I steer well clear of any films that have won Oscars. These usually have someone talking incessantly through the film, or someone looking intensely into the camera, or doing both, at intervals. That's pretty much it. And the ability to do either is considered "good acting", apparently. The rest of the movie is incidental.
Anyway, to get back to "The Social Network". For those thankfully not in the know, the movie's about how Facebook came into being. How boring can you get? Couldn't the makers of the movie have found a patch of growing grass to film instead? Sure, I think Facebook's great, lets me catch up with old pals and announce to the world that I've sneezed thrice in a row, but come on...a movie about it? Have moviemakers run out of ideas, or do people actually like to watch this nonsense? This should've been a documentary on the Weird Crap channel or something. Basically, all that happened in the movie (and in reality) was someone set up a website in his college to get even with a girl, and the it got popular, and took off. Just like Google. Or ebay. Or a dozen others. And Facebook isn't even that revolutionary - lots of people had the same idea, long before them - Orkut, anybody? If you want to watch a movie where a bunch of geeks come out on top after being persecuted, try "Revenge of the Nerds". At least it's funny.
What happened to movies where people actually did things, went places, diced with death and managed not to come over all emotional? They seem to be going the way of the dodo. To be honest, there are some movies that came along once in a while that make me think there is some hope, but they're far overshadowed by tripe like "Social Network". Where are the Indiana Joneses, the spaghetti westerns, the Star Wars? I'll tell you what it is. We've just grown fond of gazing deeply into our own navels. Nothing to do with the outside, pioneers or action interests us as much as a depressed retard playing the piano (I made that up, but I'm sure there's a movie like that - if not, I'm claiming royalties from any producer reading this). Where once men were men, and women were beautiful, now you can't tell the difference. Or they're all geeks, which amounts to the same thing. No wonder this generation actually want to be accountants and computer weirdos.
It's not just movies, either. I'm a bit of a science fiction buff - I head straight for the sci-fi shelves whenever I see a bookshop - and this penchant for navel-gazing is apparent even in the sci-fi world. Where once the likes of Clarke and Asimov dominated, with their huge panoramas of Galactic Empire and the colonization of space, now it's mostly about individuals dealing with their angst in dystopic futures (or something equally pathetic). Pathetic is the word, actually. We're turning into a race of pathetic little people preoccupied with our pathetic little problems. The whole human race (the current generation, at least) needs a kick up the backside and a few weeks at boot camp.
Hell, who cares!
PS: Regarding my opinion of Oscar-winning movies, there's one honourably excepted category - Oscars for Special Effects. More movies like Jurassic Park, please!
Tuesday, 22 March 2011
Monday, 14 March 2011
Decisions, Decisions...
You can't get away from them, can you? Like deciding to write this post, for example. You make decisions every moment of every day, some consciously, others unconsciously. Even a decision to not decide is still a decision. I can't speak for everybody, but I am not fond of decisions - and I suspect quite a lot of us think the world would be a better place without the need for them (According to my extremely limited understanding of quantum physics, the world wouldn't exist without decisions being made - but that's another story).
These days, the amount of information we have, literally, at our fingertips is incredible, courtesy Google and its lesser brethren. You'd think with all that easily accessible data, making a decision would be a cinch. Think again. Earlier today, I decided I needed a simple article - a clear hard sheet of plastic. The obvious place to look was on the Internet, on ebay and Amazon. The moment I typed in my requirement, I was faced with page after page of results. All with slightly different specifications, and remarkably different prices. While the decision on what to pay was easy (my dad used to decide what to eat at a restaurant by looking at the right-hand side of the menu - you get the picture), I spent almost half an hour trying to picture the difference between a thickness of 2mm and one of 3mm, converting inches into centimetres and vice versa, and researching whether "perspex" was clear enough, hard enough or good enough for me.
The point is, there was a time (yes, I'm old enough to remember thepre-internet world) when all that information wasn't available. Decisions had to be made using whatever limited information there was - and made right. And guess what - I made the right decisions at least as often as I do now.
So - does more data necessarily mean better decisions? Logic would say so. And so would pretty much everybody tasked with making a decision. However, I suspect the one misleads and the other shirks. Think about it this way - for millions of years, before the light of intelligence dawned on us, our ancestors basically had one of two decisions to make - fight or flight. And those weren't decisions that could be made while scratching your head thoughtfully. Even afterwards, for most of our existence as humans, our lives usually depended on swift decisions using the evidence of our eyes and our intuitions. And given that we are the most successful species ever, that worked for us. In other words, we've evolved to make quick decisions based on limited data, and not conclusions based on lengthy logical analyses.
That isn't to say that there are no cases where decisions shouldn't be made painstakingly. After all, nuclear physics and libel laws didn't exist for most of mankind's history. But for everyday, non-life-or-death decisions, we're probably better off trusting our intuitive reactions to things, compounded perhaps with a little common sense. You'll know what I mean if you've ever bought a house or a car. Both are important decisions, among the most important you'll ever make. But no matter how much you list the pros and cons, research the neighbourhood or look on vehicle owner forums, you only really make the decision when you've set foot in the house and decided "it feels right" or taken that test drive and thrilled to that deep-throated growl when you floor the accelerator.
Have no doubt, you will regret some decisions. But you're as likely to regret an over-analysed decision as a rash one - so think about what you're about to do - but only a little. You're meant to spend your life benefiting from the decisions you made, not making them. And remember - some decisions only look bad when you compare them to those made by others - they may be the right decision on their own merit. It isn't about keeping up with the Joneses - it's about your own satisfaction.
These days, the amount of information we have, literally, at our fingertips is incredible, courtesy Google and its lesser brethren. You'd think with all that easily accessible data, making a decision would be a cinch. Think again. Earlier today, I decided I needed a simple article - a clear hard sheet of plastic. The obvious place to look was on the Internet, on ebay and Amazon. The moment I typed in my requirement, I was faced with page after page of results. All with slightly different specifications, and remarkably different prices. While the decision on what to pay was easy (my dad used to decide what to eat at a restaurant by looking at the right-hand side of the menu - you get the picture), I spent almost half an hour trying to picture the difference between a thickness of 2mm and one of 3mm, converting inches into centimetres and vice versa, and researching whether "perspex" was clear enough, hard enough or good enough for me.
The point is, there was a time (yes, I'm old enough to remember thepre-internet world) when all that information wasn't available. Decisions had to be made using whatever limited information there was - and made right. And guess what - I made the right decisions at least as often as I do now.
So - does more data necessarily mean better decisions? Logic would say so. And so would pretty much everybody tasked with making a decision. However, I suspect the one misleads and the other shirks. Think about it this way - for millions of years, before the light of intelligence dawned on us, our ancestors basically had one of two decisions to make - fight or flight. And those weren't decisions that could be made while scratching your head thoughtfully. Even afterwards, for most of our existence as humans, our lives usually depended on swift decisions using the evidence of our eyes and our intuitions. And given that we are the most successful species ever, that worked for us. In other words, we've evolved to make quick decisions based on limited data, and not conclusions based on lengthy logical analyses.
That isn't to say that there are no cases where decisions shouldn't be made painstakingly. After all, nuclear physics and libel laws didn't exist for most of mankind's history. But for everyday, non-life-or-death decisions, we're probably better off trusting our intuitive reactions to things, compounded perhaps with a little common sense. You'll know what I mean if you've ever bought a house or a car. Both are important decisions, among the most important you'll ever make. But no matter how much you list the pros and cons, research the neighbourhood or look on vehicle owner forums, you only really make the decision when you've set foot in the house and decided "it feels right" or taken that test drive and thrilled to that deep-throated growl when you floor the accelerator.
Have no doubt, you will regret some decisions. But you're as likely to regret an over-analysed decision as a rash one - so think about what you're about to do - but only a little. You're meant to spend your life benefiting from the decisions you made, not making them. And remember - some decisions only look bad when you compare them to those made by others - they may be the right decision on their own merit. It isn't about keeping up with the Joneses - it's about your own satisfaction.
Monday, 21 February 2011
E-revolutions, my a**e!
Talk about the domino effect. Or peer pressure. Or maybe keeping up with the Joneses. Whatever you term it, there's no doubt that the booting out of Tunisia's president has resulted in copycat demonstrations in Egypt, Yemen, Algeria and now Bahrain and Libya. There were a few muted reports about the Jordanians wanting in on the party, but no one paid them any attention. So far, only in Tunisia and Egypt have the protesters achieved their immediate objective, the ouster of their ossified presidents. What happens next is anybody's guess.
Honestly, I'm a bit sceptical about these "revolutions". Sceptical about both cause and effect. In other words, why and how they took place, and what they have achieved or aim to achieve. Take the fact that the catalyst in these protests was the Internet - or, more precisely, Facebook, Twitter and the like. Now, I love the Net - Google is the closest thing to divinity I know (just think omnipresence) - but I'm deeply suspicious of what I see, hear or read on it - even more so than newspapers and TV. At least other forms of media are sometimes brought to book for their sensationalism, or have their outright lies exposed and their intimate relationships with powers that be brought to light.
Not so the Internet. Just take Wikipedia. It can be a source of reliable, accurate information if you want to know all about the history of weather-vanes, or the mating habits of Madagascan twits or anything without a shred of controversy attached. But the moment you touch on anything that people have differing opinions about - all that noncomittal impartiality goes out of the window, and you have some truly skewed pieces of writing on there. It's supposed to be reviewed by ordinary individuals - and that's the scary part. Not just Wikipedia, but the whole Internet. People like you and me, with all our prejudices, petty grudges, commenting and writing about things they are eminently unqualified to do and have no business doing. Just like this blog - you'd be a fool to form an opinion about anything based on my meanderings here - but this is just the sort of thing fuelling the protests.
But to go back to the happenings in the Middle East, what triggered them off? Damned if I know. Nor does anyone else, no matter how much the breathless BBC or other reporters say that the people's frustrations have been building over the years. Frustrations about what? Standards of living? Gaddafi, in Libya, ensured every adult Libyan had thir own home and car. And Bahrain? Ask the Indians, Pakistanis and Filipinos who flock there in droves. The right to vote? Yeah, right. How many of you actually vote? I do, because my ballot papers are sent home for me to mark and put back in the post (postage paid). I've known plenty of people from countries that weren't democracies, and none of them were scarred by not participating in elections. In fact, the reverse is often true...
Here's a couple of facts about the people participating in the protests. They're all urban (usually, the only villagers in the whole mess were Bedouin tribesmen carted in by El Presidente's supporters). They're all young (look up the demographics for Arab countries - there's a huge bow wave of people in their teens and twenties). So what do you get when you have a young, urban population, starry-eyed and exposed to the internet? Jealousy, that's what. Of western lifestyles. Or their idea of it, at least. The average young Arab, like average young men everywhere, wants, deep down inside, a Ferrari and a blonde. Both of which are in short supply in Egypt, Tunisia and the others (note how the Gulf Arab states have not had a murmur of protests - both Ferraris and blondes are in ample evidence in those oil-drenched states).
Of course I'm being flippant, but you get the idea. Lots of young people with not much to do virtually guarantees some sort of unrest. China's leaders should pat themselves on the back for their one-child policy - more than their Great Firewall, that's why there's been not a peep out of there ever since Tiananmen. Another fact: all these protests are about the "next level" - that is, not about basic necessities like food, shelter and livelihoods, but about rights, lifestyles and choices. Don't let the fact that the trigger apparently was food prices fool you. Did any of those protesters on TV look like they were starving? That's all it was, just a trigger, an excuse. Real revolutions, like the ones in Russia (1917) and China (1949) were about far more basic needs. These ones are about greed, not need.
And what happens next? As I said before, no one has a clue, not even the protesters. Unlike the revolutionaries in Russia and China, or the freedom fighters in British India who had a specific agenda and an ideology they intended to govern by, these e-revolutionaries are the political equivalent of a flash mob - you know, one of those silly affairs where word is spread via Twitter or Facebook for people to assemble in a given spot at a given time, and then they all start to dance or something - completely aimless, unless it's a bit of publicity you want and have time on your hands. In Egypt, a rather bemused military has taken over, and seems to be looking for some direction ("Right, you've got rid of Hosni, but what exactly do you want now?"). I can take a few guesses as to what's next - the military continues to govern, while saying elections are to be held. When said elections are organised, the Muslim Brotherhood decides to contest - and due to the lack of experience, candidates, or organisation anywhere else, begins to look like a viable alternative - at which point the army puts its booted foot down and says that anything, even themselves, are better than the evil Brotherhood. And so it's back to square one (or should that be Tahrir Square?!) with an army strongman "reluctantly" taking the reins. Of course, I might be wrong, especially in the short term, but in the long term, wait and watch...
Honestly, I'm a bit sceptical about these "revolutions". Sceptical about both cause and effect. In other words, why and how they took place, and what they have achieved or aim to achieve. Take the fact that the catalyst in these protests was the Internet - or, more precisely, Facebook, Twitter and the like. Now, I love the Net - Google is the closest thing to divinity I know (just think omnipresence) - but I'm deeply suspicious of what I see, hear or read on it - even more so than newspapers and TV. At least other forms of media are sometimes brought to book for their sensationalism, or have their outright lies exposed and their intimate relationships with powers that be brought to light.
Not so the Internet. Just take Wikipedia. It can be a source of reliable, accurate information if you want to know all about the history of weather-vanes, or the mating habits of Madagascan twits or anything without a shred of controversy attached. But the moment you touch on anything that people have differing opinions about - all that noncomittal impartiality goes out of the window, and you have some truly skewed pieces of writing on there. It's supposed to be reviewed by ordinary individuals - and that's the scary part. Not just Wikipedia, but the whole Internet. People like you and me, with all our prejudices, petty grudges, commenting and writing about things they are eminently unqualified to do and have no business doing. Just like this blog - you'd be a fool to form an opinion about anything based on my meanderings here - but this is just the sort of thing fuelling the protests.
But to go back to the happenings in the Middle East, what triggered them off? Damned if I know. Nor does anyone else, no matter how much the breathless BBC or other reporters say that the people's frustrations have been building over the years. Frustrations about what? Standards of living? Gaddafi, in Libya, ensured every adult Libyan had thir own home and car. And Bahrain? Ask the Indians, Pakistanis and Filipinos who flock there in droves. The right to vote? Yeah, right. How many of you actually vote? I do, because my ballot papers are sent home for me to mark and put back in the post (postage paid). I've known plenty of people from countries that weren't democracies, and none of them were scarred by not participating in elections. In fact, the reverse is often true...
Here's a couple of facts about the people participating in the protests. They're all urban (usually, the only villagers in the whole mess were Bedouin tribesmen carted in by El Presidente's supporters). They're all young (look up the demographics for Arab countries - there's a huge bow wave of people in their teens and twenties). So what do you get when you have a young, urban population, starry-eyed and exposed to the internet? Jealousy, that's what. Of western lifestyles. Or their idea of it, at least. The average young Arab, like average young men everywhere, wants, deep down inside, a Ferrari and a blonde. Both of which are in short supply in Egypt, Tunisia and the others (note how the Gulf Arab states have not had a murmur of protests - both Ferraris and blondes are in ample evidence in those oil-drenched states).
Of course I'm being flippant, but you get the idea. Lots of young people with not much to do virtually guarantees some sort of unrest. China's leaders should pat themselves on the back for their one-child policy - more than their Great Firewall, that's why there's been not a peep out of there ever since Tiananmen. Another fact: all these protests are about the "next level" - that is, not about basic necessities like food, shelter and livelihoods, but about rights, lifestyles and choices. Don't let the fact that the trigger apparently was food prices fool you. Did any of those protesters on TV look like they were starving? That's all it was, just a trigger, an excuse. Real revolutions, like the ones in Russia (1917) and China (1949) were about far more basic needs. These ones are about greed, not need.
And what happens next? As I said before, no one has a clue, not even the protesters. Unlike the revolutionaries in Russia and China, or the freedom fighters in British India who had a specific agenda and an ideology they intended to govern by, these e-revolutionaries are the political equivalent of a flash mob - you know, one of those silly affairs where word is spread via Twitter or Facebook for people to assemble in a given spot at a given time, and then they all start to dance or something - completely aimless, unless it's a bit of publicity you want and have time on your hands. In Egypt, a rather bemused military has taken over, and seems to be looking for some direction ("Right, you've got rid of Hosni, but what exactly do you want now?"). I can take a few guesses as to what's next - the military continues to govern, while saying elections are to be held. When said elections are organised, the Muslim Brotherhood decides to contest - and due to the lack of experience, candidates, or organisation anywhere else, begins to look like a viable alternative - at which point the army puts its booted foot down and says that anything, even themselves, are better than the evil Brotherhood. And so it's back to square one (or should that be Tahrir Square?!) with an army strongman "reluctantly" taking the reins. Of course, I might be wrong, especially in the short term, but in the long term, wait and watch...
Thursday, 25 November 2010
Books, books everywhere...
...and not a page read. I've just bought another book. It's been put under my bed. Or my side of the bed, rather. It's called the "dirty side" by the other half, because things have a way of accumulating under it. Why put the book there, though? Because there simply isn't any more room on the shelves, that's why.
Actually, it's been a while since there was any space on the shelves. And so, there's a small but growing pile of books under the bed. When I'm lying on it, I can bend down and look at them, and sigh in contentment. Or perhaps anticipation. Because, you see, most of those books have yet to feel my loving touch, or the tender caress of my eyes. In other words, I haven't read them yet.
Yes, I know the sensible thing to do would be to finish reading one book before buying another, but I can't seem to help it(This must be how women feel about buying clothes, bags and pretty much everything else). But before I can finish one, I come across another one that looks really interesting, and have to get it.
It gets worse. E-books are the scourge of my life. Not only can I read them on my laptop, but have e-book apps on my phone and my i-pod (the latter has three different apps). And I read tham all at the same time(Not together, obviously - only chameleons can manage that - but they can also hide in shame quite easily). At the moment, I am in the midst of seven different books. And that new one I just bought - it's calling out to me to be read. I think I need help...
Whatever happened to the good old days? The days where I lived in a place where the nearest bookshop was 80 kilometres away? And buying a new book was a bit of an occasion? And old books were read, re-read and read again until they seemed a part of me, but could still thrill? Of the books I have now, about half don't seem to be worth a re-read, and I have no time to re-read the other half because there's always something new.
Time to put a stop to it. Go cold turkey. Ban myself from bookshops, real and virtual, and concentrate on one book at a time. At least, until that pile under my bed no longer has snow crowning its top. Wish me luck.
Actually, it's been a while since there was any space on the shelves. And so, there's a small but growing pile of books under the bed. When I'm lying on it, I can bend down and look at them, and sigh in contentment. Or perhaps anticipation. Because, you see, most of those books have yet to feel my loving touch, or the tender caress of my eyes. In other words, I haven't read them yet.
Yes, I know the sensible thing to do would be to finish reading one book before buying another, but I can't seem to help it(This must be how women feel about buying clothes, bags and pretty much everything else). But before I can finish one, I come across another one that looks really interesting, and have to get it.
It gets worse. E-books are the scourge of my life. Not only can I read them on my laptop, but have e-book apps on my phone and my i-pod (the latter has three different apps). And I read tham all at the same time(Not together, obviously - only chameleons can manage that - but they can also hide in shame quite easily). At the moment, I am in the midst of seven different books. And that new one I just bought - it's calling out to me to be read. I think I need help...
Whatever happened to the good old days? The days where I lived in a place where the nearest bookshop was 80 kilometres away? And buying a new book was a bit of an occasion? And old books were read, re-read and read again until they seemed a part of me, but could still thrill? Of the books I have now, about half don't seem to be worth a re-read, and I have no time to re-read the other half because there's always something new.
Time to put a stop to it. Go cold turkey. Ban myself from bookshops, real and virtual, and concentrate on one book at a time. At least, until that pile under my bed no longer has snow crowning its top. Wish me luck.
Monday, 1 November 2010
Keeping a Commitment
It's been a while, hasn't it? Yeah...I've made plans to write, thought of subjects to write about, even created a routine to help me get on with it. Everything except actually write.
And now, today, I've decided to pull my finger out and actually write something. About nothing in particular - I can't seem to recall any of those interesting things I thought I'd write about. Don't get me wrong, there is a lot I can, and will write about. Lots has been happening in my corner of the universe. Some good, some bad, some very bad. That last one ought to be balanced by something very good. I have a vague idea this blog (and its yet dormant sisters) is part of it. We shall see!
And now, today, I've decided to pull my finger out and actually write something. About nothing in particular - I can't seem to recall any of those interesting things I thought I'd write about. Don't get me wrong, there is a lot I can, and will write about. Lots has been happening in my corner of the universe. Some good, some bad, some very bad. That last one ought to be balanced by something very good. I have a vague idea this blog (and its yet dormant sisters) is part of it. We shall see!
Thursday, 19 March 2009
Racism and Hypocrisy
Went out for an “Indian” with a friend and some of his friends. Apparently, a common chat-up line for subcontinentals in the UK is “D’you like a good Indian?” Nice one, that. Suppose it wouldn’t work for anybody who wasn’t Indian, though. “D’you like a good Pakistani?” isn’t quite the same.
The friend’s friends were these good old guys, salt of the earth types. English earth, that is. Judge for yourself what they were like, based on these remarks – “You’re not turning Muslim, are you?” – in response to something about the drinks being delivered by a waiter, not waitress. Or “How was the bomb-making course, then?”, when said friend mentioned he read chemistry (He wasn’t Muslim, just for the record). Or again, about disliking Thai food “Just don’t like anything to do with slitty-eyed people”.
Now here’s the thing. These remarks were made openly, addressed to my friend and me, both of who are obviously of south Asian extraction. I’m confused about how to react. Or if I should react at all. From one angle, it’s as if we were part of the “inner circle”, where one could make remarks like that and get away with it. Certainly my friend acted like it.
From another angle, one could interpret it to mean that the people making those remarks were prejudiced about Muslims and East Asians, but not Indians (The fact that we were at an Indian eatery and all of them were Indian food fanatics lends weight to this theory). But how do you know that they wouldn’t make similarly erudite observations about my type of people when there weren’t any of us present? (Difficult though it is to get away from us these days).
Third, and here’s where I struggle a bit – is it sheer hypocrisy for me to be disturbed by this? Back home in India, racism as defined here is so casual as to be mainstream. “Chinkies”, “Mozzies” and “Kalloos” pepper our conversation, and belonging to an “upper” caste carries with it a feeling of smugness. So should I interpret tonight’s remarks as healthy, just like it was back home, or admit to myself that back home is a place that is truly rotten to the core?
The friend’s friends were these good old guys, salt of the earth types. English earth, that is. Judge for yourself what they were like, based on these remarks – “You’re not turning Muslim, are you?” – in response to something about the drinks being delivered by a waiter, not waitress. Or “How was the bomb-making course, then?”, when said friend mentioned he read chemistry (He wasn’t Muslim, just for the record). Or again, about disliking Thai food “Just don’t like anything to do with slitty-eyed people”.
Now here’s the thing. These remarks were made openly, addressed to my friend and me, both of who are obviously of south Asian extraction. I’m confused about how to react. Or if I should react at all. From one angle, it’s as if we were part of the “inner circle”, where one could make remarks like that and get away with it. Certainly my friend acted like it.
From another angle, one could interpret it to mean that the people making those remarks were prejudiced about Muslims and East Asians, but not Indians (The fact that we were at an Indian eatery and all of them were Indian food fanatics lends weight to this theory). But how do you know that they wouldn’t make similarly erudite observations about my type of people when there weren’t any of us present? (Difficult though it is to get away from us these days).
Third, and here’s where I struggle a bit – is it sheer hypocrisy for me to be disturbed by this? Back home in India, racism as defined here is so casual as to be mainstream. “Chinkies”, “Mozzies” and “Kalloos” pepper our conversation, and belonging to an “upper” caste carries with it a feeling of smugness. So should I interpret tonight’s remarks as healthy, just like it was back home, or admit to myself that back home is a place that is truly rotten to the core?
Wednesday, 11 March 2009
The Faraway Tree
Did you read Enid Blyton when you were young? If you didn't, and all you read (if you did read at all) were crappy manga comics, or whatever it it is that kids read these days, more's the pity.
I was suddenly reminded of a series of Blyton's stories that I'd glimpsed, and always wanted to read, but never gottten around to, Not even now, a quarter of a century from when I heard of them. The Faraway Tree.
A tree that grows way up into the clouds, and if you get to the top, you arrive at a magical land, one that's different every time you climb up. Not to mention the interesting folk that live on the tree itself, to be encountered on the climb.
I've always loved to travel, to explore places, to be surprised by what's round the corner. Made me wonder if my wanting to live here in the UK had something to do with it. Is the UK my Faraway Tree? My platform to launch myself into lands unknown, my personal metaphor for the folks that I'd meet on the journey, the Folk of the Faraway Tree?
Like I said, I still haven't actually read the stories; but I'm willing to bet that the folk of the tree are sometimes nice, sometimes nasty, some that help you up, others that chase you away. Life's like that. Great writer, Enid Blyton. She was probably trying to equip kids of her generation for the real world.
But back to what I'm doing here. Yes, part of the reason I'm here is to travel, see places that seem magical to me, places that I would only be able to visit by making the effort of climbing the Faraway Tree. I've done a little of it, and I'd like to do more. I've climbed to the top of the tree, and now I just need to wait for the lands to come along, and hop aboard. And on the journey up I've met all kinds, fair and foul, and learned from them. And I've helped up my companions and been helped up the tree by them.
Don't know if Enid Blyton mentioned this, but the faraway lands don't come by if you shut your eyes. Only when you open them, and shade them with your palm to look into the distance, do they come by and invite you to visit.
I was suddenly reminded of a series of Blyton's stories that I'd glimpsed, and always wanted to read, but never gottten around to, Not even now, a quarter of a century from when I heard of them. The Faraway Tree.
A tree that grows way up into the clouds, and if you get to the top, you arrive at a magical land, one that's different every time you climb up. Not to mention the interesting folk that live on the tree itself, to be encountered on the climb.
I've always loved to travel, to explore places, to be surprised by what's round the corner. Made me wonder if my wanting to live here in the UK had something to do with it. Is the UK my Faraway Tree? My platform to launch myself into lands unknown, my personal metaphor for the folks that I'd meet on the journey, the Folk of the Faraway Tree?
Like I said, I still haven't actually read the stories; but I'm willing to bet that the folk of the tree are sometimes nice, sometimes nasty, some that help you up, others that chase you away. Life's like that. Great writer, Enid Blyton. She was probably trying to equip kids of her generation for the real world.
But back to what I'm doing here. Yes, part of the reason I'm here is to travel, see places that seem magical to me, places that I would only be able to visit by making the effort of climbing the Faraway Tree. I've done a little of it, and I'd like to do more. I've climbed to the top of the tree, and now I just need to wait for the lands to come along, and hop aboard. And on the journey up I've met all kinds, fair and foul, and learned from them. And I've helped up my companions and been helped up the tree by them.
Don't know if Enid Blyton mentioned this, but the faraway lands don't come by if you shut your eyes. Only when you open them, and shade them with your palm to look into the distance, do they come by and invite you to visit.
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