A long blog that is worth it to read. I swear.

1) I’m done with work. I’m sure there will be some loose ends to tie up, but I’m done researching and writing copybatches. As I went wherever I wanted today, I found myself consulting the Let’s Go book for basic things and then mentally taking note and correcting the info for things I encountered. Hopefully that neuroticism will fade so I can properly enjoy myself the next several days.

2) Sean O’Brien. I shared a bunk with him the other night in Ballinskelligs. He was incredible. Ellsworth, if you’re out there, Sean O’Brien is your Irish counterpart. He’s this really friendly retired guy who loves to talk about anything and everything. He basically travels around Ireland living in hostels. In his spare time, he plays some traditional music. He’s not too bad at the harmonica, tin whistle, and concertina. He bought me a drink at the local pub and played with this other lady who was so tone deaf and rhythmically retarded that I thought she had some disorder. After I realized that she was only musically retarded, she told me the name of this girl and I thought the name was the most beautiful name I’d ever heard. Then I forgot it. Yeah, I’m horrible. Sean’s main hobby is photography and making documentaries. He actually won an American national competition for one he put together. He also has these hilarious business cards that he made. He gave me one to hold onto. He hates dirty public toilets, so if one is bad, he goes to the manager and says that he found this card sitting in their restroom. The card is red with a rose and doesn’t have his name on it. On it is printed as such:
A.R.S.E.
Assn. for Restoration of Sanitary Excellence
Toilet Spy
Irish Representative (No. 9)
Dublin 22
Condition of your toilet/s:
Not great ( ) Poor ( ) Very Poor ( )
Will call again.

It’s all bunk, but some people take it seriously and clean the toilet. It scared the bejeezus out of one of his friends who runs a pub.

3) People are drawn to natural beauty. Seeing how tourists flock to famous natural sites to snap some photos (if you haven’t noticed, I hate their behavior, but hang with me; I think I’m going to make a point), I have faith in humanity’s appreciation for aesthetics. Though humans constantly produce things of utter hideousness out of desire to be original or out of sheer incompetence, the majority of people from various cultures and races can look at certain things and almost unanimously agree that it is either beautiful or ugly. This is not to say there aren’t cultural elements to aesthetic opinions; there is just some universal element that becomes apparent in certain places I’ve been or when people have seen the pictures I’ve taken.
There’s also something about natural versus synthetic beauty. Great natural scenes always in my mind surpass anything I’ve seen a human create. I tried to put my finger on what made nature so much more attractive—the scale (minute or massive), the colors, the age. These things are all true, but I think the key factor is much less concrete. It is the simple fact that natural is the antithesis of synthetic that makes things truly awesome to humans. Because we cannot make it by definition, it is unattainable and therefore enthralling, intriguing, incredible.





Of course, some damn contrarian will say that humans are themselves natural living creatures, that we are not distinct from what I am calling nature. Humans create each other through natural means (until we have genetic engineering Gattaca style). I didn’t say humans themselves weren’t beautiful. Anyway, I think someone out there has a good definition of synthetic that will make the distinction.

4) One of my best driving songs is called “Flirtin’ With Disaster” by Molly Hatchet. It’s a classic rock song of the exciting hell-raising lifestyle on the edge, but it has great meaning for anyone venturing out into the world. After an inspiring guitar intro, it opens with the verse:
“I’ve been travelin’ down the road
and I’m flirtin’ with disaster.”

I think that sums up an aspect of this trip that I haven’t fully appreciated. As I’ve traveled down the road, I have indeed flirted with disaster. Any number of unfortunate things could have happened to my car (knock on wood, I’m not done with that sucker yet). I could have been robbed. I could have lost things (wait…I did lose things, but they could have been more important than a shirt and a towel). I could have gotten sick. I could have died. I could have gotten into a bar fight. I could have been gunned down by the random army guards wandering the street of Killarney today to prevent July 12th riots. You get the idea. Well, despite minor things here and there, I have gone 5 weeks flirting with disaster and deftly/luckily (but mainly luckily) avoiding it.

the noble sheep sends disaster running in fear.

5) I am in the Peacock Farm Hostel. There is a real peacock walking around in all it’s feathered glory.

Day: 35
Guinness: 45.5 (I had a glass, which equals a half-pint)