Torture, texts and tutors
Three mildly interesting things are on my mind. They’re completely unrelated, but they all begin with T so I though I’d cobble them altogether into one post for fun.
The first is torture. The question was put to me, in a BBC4 programme about human rights, whether I would torture a terrorist who had planted a bomb on a plane that was carrying 300 souls in order to get the relevant information into how to turn off said bomb. The presenter went out onto the street, asking random passers-by. An awful lot of them said no they wouldn’t. I have to say, yes I would. Well, I’m not sure I personally would, but I would probably let someone else. I mean it’s a tricky subject, to be sure. Every human has the human right not to be tortured. But then surely every human has the human right not to be blown to bits whilst en route to lanzerote. I mean okay, maybe being blown up isn’t a common enough occurance to make it onto the official list of what’s a right and what isn’t, but it strikes me in that situation you’ve got one human extinguishing the lives and therefore the rights of 300 others. And torture doesn’t have to mean death – in the middle ages they used to pour salty water over your feet and then get a goat to come along and lick them – that was torture. Or there’s that drippy tap torture. Hmmm. This is making me into an ugly human being again. But then I think the world is full of ugly choices and evil situations. Morality is a blessing but at the same time it seems to be the constant curse of humanity as it’s permanently causing us to question our actions.
The next is texts. I received a text today from a number I didn’t recognise! I love those! The text ran: “Could you call mee??? Ami xxx” Now I don’t know any ami’s, I only know one amy – my sister. I usually try and avoid ami’s anyway because I find it a silly way of spelling amy, but ho-hum, that’s just my personal taste. I haven’t replied yet, was half tempted just to phone up and go “oh my god ami, what’s wrong?????!!!!!!!” but I haven’t. From the text I can deduce a few things. Firstly, this girl is likely to be very loud, bit of a motormouth, and a bit “oh look at me aren’t I cute!!!” I have deduced that because of the extra “e” on me. There is no need for an extra e there, it was probably just put in place to show “quirkiness” – i.e compensation for an otherwise non-existant personality. Also she is clearly quite self-obsessed. I deduce this because a) she must know this person quite well to be simply asking that she be called, with no hellos or how are yous, and b) if she knows someone so well, why sign your name? Maybe I’m being a little mean, but my brain has a habit of extrapolating little thoughts like that. Of course a terrifying new thought now comes into my mind – what if I actually know this girl and I’ve just forgotten? And now I’ve insulted her all over my blog……dear oh dear oh dear.
The last is tutoring. During todays depressing job search, a thought came into my mind about being a tutor. I like passing on knowledge, it makes me feel good about myself, it’s like showing off without sounding pretentious – people actually pay to hear you talk about how much you know! I don’t have the patience to be a full blown teacher I don’t think – secondary school was a nightmare for me and I have absolutely no wish to return to it. But tutoring I thought, I could do that. Got all the way through an application process on a website when my self confidence failed. It came at the point where you had to say how much you’d want to be paid an hour. I started thinking and thought £10 an hour, but then I thought that’s too cheap and thought £20 an hour. But then I thought who would really pay £20 to sit and listen to me talk theology for an hour. I hate my self doubt when it comes out like that. I know really deep down I’m more than capable, I have a degree that tells me that. But those little insecurities run deep don’t they? Those little voices that say “you can’t do that!” and “who’s going to listen to you!” The darker side of the personality. The freudian Id. We’ve all got it, and unfortunately it haunts us at the most critical times.