Gulliver's transcripts

[WackyMeetsPractical]

Oct. 20, 2012

21

There was a time when I called Australia Utopia. Yet it is a barren wasteland compared to the place in which I know find myself. This must be the true paradise of any sailor. Around me, I find many people of varying appearances relaxing on the sand and enjoying the fine ocean breeze. I do find myself somewhat embarrassed to see the impractical way in which many of them are dressed.

In the distance I see more ominous grey towers which serve as a constant reminder of the mystery surrounding Japan. But to be honest, I find myself much more intrigued by the local entertainment. I do not know where John has gone off to, but I think I shall wait for him while enjoying the local cuisine.

For the first time in weeks, I feel almost at ease. I hope that John and I can spend more time here.

[RotavatoR]

22 (October 22)

On the way back from getting a delicious meal with John, I was approached by a rather (???) young lady. It seems that she has been reading my accounts but finds them to be (???) unintelligent. I wonder if perhaps she is right and I am making a fool of myself in front of so many. Perhaps I should try improving my presentation by acquiring a better pen.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

23 (October 25)

I have acquired a better pen. Or rather, a local pen. I have no idea how this thing works, but it seems to do the job, and I do hope that my readers will find my writings easier on the eyes.

It has been several days since John and I arrived in this "Hawaii". I have been greatly enjoying my time here, though much of the local culture continues to surprise me. I have seen many shops selling hand-crafted goods that look nearly identical. It is truly amazing how people have trained themselves to produce such similar works, down to the last detail! It is no wonder that goods here come by a hefty price.

But I fear that John and I cannot stay here much longer, for we are quickly exhausting our money. Why, even a humble coconut costs an extravagant amount, even though they seem to grow on trees all around. Though John seemed quite pleased to see the gentleman break it open with a large machete, so I suppose my money was spent well enough.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

24 (October 28)

I am ashamed to admit to my readers that I recall very little of what transpired over the last few days. I vaguely recall people talking about the weather and tall waves and I assume it must have had to do with that very unusual wave-riding sport I have often seen played here. However, due to a recent occurence, my mind has been elsewhere.

It happened when I was waiting to meet up with John at a prearranged location, which happened to be a rather large news stand. John was running but a little late, so I decided to divert myself by hearing the news. I was interested to see that there were some magazines in various languages, many of which I was familiar with. I flipped through a brightly coloured French magazine, enjoying the familiar letters, but all the while I felt something tugging at the back of my mind. A few minutes passed before I remembered that France never had such beautifully printed magazines with realistic paintings like these of this land.

I began to wonder if they just happened to speak French in these parts too, but then it ocurred to me to look once more at the cover. I felt a great number of emotions when I noticed that it had a date on it. The number two thousand and twelve that I had been seeing so much of recently is actually the present year!

It is amazing and unbelievable, but if it is true, I understand now how Japan has gone through such a change-- whatever had transported me halfway across the world had delivered me almost three hundred years into the future!

[WackyMeetsPractical]

October 31, 2012

John, having caught on to my distracted disposition, confronted me the other day. Casting aside my fears, I finally decided to tell him the truth about my discovery. To my surprise, John simply asked me why I was reacting so extremely to what he percieved to be a trivial matter.

I asked John if he felt nothing after becoming so far removed from all he had ever known. I could barely get up in the morning knowing I would never again see my family - Even my dear children would long since be dead! But John insisted that whatever force had brought us to this era could bring us back. He was very encouraging, and as we began to plan our means of return, I felt incredibly fortunate for having such a friend.

After we reviewed the facts of our situation, John decided that we should return to England. I knew he meant well, but I reminded him that we could not simply return to the England we knew. My wife wouldn't be waiting for me. John shook his head and told me that since everything started close to that country, it would be prudent to investigate.

I did agree with his reasoning, and part of me was very much curious as to what had become of my homeland, but I dreaded the thought of yet another long and perilous journey. I was greatly surprised when John led me not to a dock, but to a large and bustling structure. Watching the sky, I realized that John had finally given in to my earlier wish.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

TWO updates.

26
(November 2 2012)

John spent half the day arguing with many different people, but we eventually found ourselves seated aboard one of these incredible airplanes. I first heard of such vehicles from my readers, but they neglected to describe how amazing the experience of being in one would be. Sitting by the window, I was able to watch as the world became both tiny and enormous at the same time. I was reminded of my time in the floating city of Laputa, but the airplane flew much much higher than the city, and the twenty-first century world below, with all of its glowing lights, was a sight I shall never forget.

The flight lasted many hours, but I could not tear my eyes away from the window as we flew right through the clouds! For a time I felt youthful once again and began to wonder if perhaps this experience made the entire ordeal worth it.

John was much less enthusiastic about flying. After being asked repeatedly to turn off his phone, he ordered and consumed a large amount of alcohol and went to sleep.


27
(November 3 2012)

Roads smooth and gray, horseless vehicles, and towers reaching up to the sky. They speak English here, to other people, but also into phones, and out of televisions. The newspapers say that this is London. But this place is not my London.

Today I followed John down the streets in a daze. Never in my life have I felt so close to and so far from my home all at once. I expected this, I knew it would come to this, but until this moment, I hadn't truly comprehended the meaning of this journey.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

28
(November 7 2012)

Today I finally summoned the courage to hail a cab and ask the driver to take me to what had once been my house. I myself was unsure as to what, exactly, I expected to find there. Perhaps some trace of my existence would have been left behind, some heritage passed on from my children through the generations.

Cabs may have lost their horses in all of these centuries, but it seems that little else about them has changed. This driver insisted that my address did not exist and never could have. Such news did not strike me as very surprising, for even I knew how unlikely it was for my house to have survived the passage of so much time. I tried to describe my neighbourhood to the man, but he told me that nowhere like it could have existed and that I must be confused.

John, who had insisted on accompanying me, told the man to leave me at the closest place to our destination that he knew of, and soon, we were standing amidst unfamiliar houses near unfamiliar farms. Everything had changed so much that I had no sense of my surroundings at all. The maps called this place Nottinghamshire, but its name was about all it shared with my home.

[Dryunya]

29 (November 8, 2012)

Today I returned to Nottinghamshire for reasons I myself could not identify. I had been wandering without aim down a long road past many fields when I saw a woman headed in the direction opposite. Unsure of what inspired me to do so, I engaged her in conversation and asked if perhaps she could direct me to the home of Gulliver.
Her reaction was indeed quite astonishing. Instead of telling me she had not heard of that name or did not know the place like the driver, she smiled and remarked that yes, Gulliver did live in Nottinghamshire according to the story. I asked her to clarify her meaning, and she told me that an eighteenth century writer named Jonathan Swift had written a book titled "Gulliver's Travels", about a man very much matching my description.
As I watched the woman's silhouette vanish into the distance, I could only ponder the meaning of her words. It sounded like she had spoken of the accounts I had written, but why had my old friend Richard Sympson published them under a different name? Why had he changed the title? I rejoiced in knowing that the readers who had at one time taken to commenting on my adventures had been right, but I couldn't help but wonder: how much more had Sympson altered?

[Tohrinha]

30 (November 9, 2012)

Upon returning, I enlisted John’s help in locating the closest library. There, I asked for a copy of the book that I was very sure I had once written. The librarian, a very kind gentleman, helped me seek out the volume. As he searched, he remarked that indeed the book was one of the earliest great works of satire. I was quite offended that my accounts had come to be viewed in such a way and could only wonder how much Sympson had interfered with my original text.

I dove into the volume as soon as the librarian had secured it for me, very much hoping that it was a very different book and that all resemblance was a coincidence. Yet I found every page to be completely empty of any text or images!

When I brought this fact to the librarian’s attention, he looked at me as though I had lost my mind. A sudden feeling told me not to press the matter. Instead, I headed off in search of John. After considerable searching, I found him sitting in the back of the literature section, gazing intently into a book titled “Treasure Island”. I found another copy of that book on the floor and flipped through it – it seemed exactly the kind of story John would be interested in, so I decided not to bother him.

[Tohrinha]

31 (November 11, 2012)
(written on what appears to be an unfolded origami crane; details)

After our misadventures at the library, John and I spent Friday night recovering from the experience. Unfortunately, this resulted in our spending the very last of our savings, and we have been unable to afford a roof to sleep under the last two nights.

John told me that I got a very long comment on my most recent entry, and that he found reading it too tedious. At times like these, I really wish I had learned to properly use his phone so that I could read these comments for myself.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

32 (November 13, 2012)
written on two sheets of lined paper (and yes, it ends in the middle of a sentence)

I wonder if it is worth continuing these accounts, for John says that people have completely stopped responding to them. Well, regardless, I feel compelled to share with the world a review of very unusual events that transpired today, in case someone might someday find them of interest.

Early today, John and I decided to part ways in search of employment, for our Friday festivities at the pub left us in dire need of money. Agreeing to meet John at the docks in the evening, I set out to find any place that could make use of my services. As I walked down the street, I was momentarily distracted by a small shop selling what it advertized to be antiques. Everything there had a familiar look to it, but the wear and tear indicative of its age only served to remind me that my era had long since passed.

The elderly woman working the counter asked me what I was looking for, and I hastily replied that I needed work. As it turned out, I was quite fortunate, for several customers had bought large pieces of furniture from that store, but the woman had no means of delivering it. If I agreet to help with that task, she said that I would be reimbursed for my trouble.

Thus I spent the afternoon delivering a writing desk, a box of dolls, and two lamps. My final delivery was a large, strange-looking wardrobe with mis-matched door knobs. The item in question turned out to be quite heavy, and I lost my grip, only to drop it on the foot of a passer-by. I was quite ashamed and apologized profusely to that young gentleman, but as I was attending to that, the wardrobe fell on its side, and one of the knobs came off entirely.

The man was at first quite angry with me, but then the knob in question captured his attention. It was indeed a fine piece of work in intricately crafted brass. After a moment of thought, the man insisted I escort him to the shop from which I had acquired both the wardrobe and the knob. Feeling as though I had little choice in the matter, I picked up my load and began to head in the direction I had come from-- though after I dropped it twice more, the man decided to carry half of the burden.

As soon as we arrived at the shop, my companion began to question the elderly lady about the identity of the wardrobe's original owner. After many minutes of searching through papers, she was able to tell him the name of that person. The young man was indeed quite shocked to find that the owner in question had been his own aunt. Meanwhile the elderly lady, upon seeing the state of my undelivered cargo, told me quite firmly that my services were no longer necessary.

The young man attempted to phone his aunt multiple times, but it seemed that she did not answer. He told me that he would be visiting her at home. Still ashamed of my earlier accident, I followed him, hoping that I could in some way assist him.

After a long walk, we reached his aunt's house, and the young man wasted no time in asking her

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

33
(Tuesday November 13 2012)
(Written on an index card lying on top of the second page of the previous update, of which this is a continuation)

about the wardrobe, and according to the woman, it was given to her by a man she met at her bridge club.

She remembered the man clearly, for he convinced her to play a round of chess with him, all the while asking about her tenant. He played black and was apparently quite good at it, for he checkmated her in but a few turns, when he captured her pawn with his knight at E4.

This information was somehow meaningful to my companion, for as soon as she finished her account, he thanked her and left in a hurry. I tried to follow, but he handed me enough money for dinner and hailed the first cab he saw with much excitement.

[Qara-Xuan Zenith]

34
(Wednesday November 21)

I would like to start this entry by assuring my readers that I have not stopped writing because of the lack of an audience. In reality, there has been very little worth writing about. After that adventure with the young gentleman and his aunt, very little of note has transpired.

After those curious events, I met up with John, who had had much better luck with acquiring income. We opted to stay in London for some time in order to acquire enough money to continue our journey. I regret that our journey to England turned out to be a dead end, and I am very glad that we will soon leave. Everything here is familiar yet strange. Every shop I see makes me wonder about the lives my children led without me. Every family I see passing by fills me with sorrow, for my travels had prevented me from truly knowing the people my son and daughter had become.

John, however, seems to be in very high spirits as of late. He is looking forward to continuing our adventure, and I believe we will be setting out quite soon. I know not where he plans to lead me this time, and part of me cares little. I do not doubt that wherever we end up will be filled with cars and skyscrapers.