I must have sent this privately to at least a dozen people but I realise I’ve never actually posted this on my own website. So I’ll say the same thing I did in all of those private messages: please, if you haven’t seen it already, take 19 minutes out of your day to watch this. I guarantee your day will be improved by this talk. I mean, yes it’s a story about a silly piece of McDonalds art but it’s also about value and legacy and wanting to be seen, and every time I watch it, it leaves me absolutely sobbing.
I was very kindly nominated by MacDara to do the blog questions challenge. I don’t know who started this trend, but doesn’t it feel good to have these things back? A good old-fashioned blog challenge! Doesn’t it remind of you what blogging/the internet used to be like?
Why did you start blogging in the first place?
I’ve been on the internet since about 1996 and was always fairly plugged into internet culture. Everyone had their geocities pages or their tilde pages (iol.ie/~stuff was me!) focusing on their various fascinations. But then around 1999-2000, there was a noticabable change in the culture. People like Kottke and Dooce (RIP) started writing things that were more personal. And you had had Slashdot and Kuro5hin bringing in places where whole communities could contribute. And that felt really new and revolutionary. The internet was becoming more of a community. So I made a Livejournal account for personal stuff and made a lot of great friends there. I also had enough PHP knowledge to bash together a custom CMS to host a community blog for my friends on the worst domain would could imagine - fuckcuntandbollocks.com (the content of this is pretty much exactly what you’re imaginging, but all I can say is that we were young and trying to be edgelords and I’m sorry).
What platform are you using to manage your blog and why did you choose it? Have you blogged on other platforms before?
Jaypers, it might be easier to list the platrforms I haven’t tried. I’ve gone from Livejournal to Wordpress, to Tumblr, to Moveable Type, to Textpattern back to Wordpress, to Jekyll, to Wordpress, to Hugo, back to Wordpress, then back to Hugo, which is where we are now. I’ve mostly tried to carry my content with me across all these platforms, so this blog is about 2,000 markdown files of varying consistency, depending on how various export tools work (Tumblr’s export system suuuuuucks). I like the convenience of Wordpress but hate the fact that I’m running exposed PHP (and possibly a MySQL server) on the internet. I also don’t love Matt Mullenweg’s recent very public meltdown and it makes me fear for the future of that project.
In general, I much prefer the idea of static site generators because my content is all written in plain text (markdown) and stored in a git repository, so my disaster recovery strategy is just “re-clone my repo, rebuild and push to a new site”. And of all the static site generators I’ve tried, Hugo is the only one that can handle this volume of content with reasonable build-times.
How do you write your posts? For example, in a local editing tool, or in a panel/dashboard that’s part of your blog?
It depends! If it’s a link, I have a bash script that will `curl` all the metadata on that link for me and create the `.md` file for me and open it in vscode. I have similar scripts for video posts and books for my /reading section. For posts like this, I use org-mode. I have a dedicated `Blog Posts` section in my `notes.org` file and I do most of the initial work on it there.
When it’s in a half-decent state, I export it as a Hugo file to my site’s repo, and then I’ll refine it using vscode, using the local `hugo server` command to give the once-over for obvious stylistic mistakes. I also have a few evergreen posts, like my /uses page, that only live in my org file and gets exported whenever I change them.
When do you feel most inspired to write?
I have a full-time job and two small children. Between those things, I don’t know if there’s much room for lofty things like “inspiration”. If something catches my eye and I feel like I have something to contribute, I need to get the writing out of me there and then or I’ll start second-guessing everything I want to say. Maybe this isn’t a good thing?
Do you publish immediately after writing, or do you let it simmer a bit as a draft?
I try not to let things sit in drafts. See what I just said about needing to get the writing out of me? I’ve had one post sitting in draft here since 2019 because I wanted to work on it more. But I’ve sort of lost interest in the topic, so it’s just going to sit there forever. Drafts are no good for me. So I usually publish immediately and forget about it until the post loads in my RSS reader (I follow my own blog in my RSS reader, is that conceited?) and it’s usually then that I spot any grammatical or technical mistakes and I’ll go back and fix them.
What are you generally interested in writing about?
This the $64,000 question, right? I think I’m writing about the things that interest me, which is mostly just commentary around pop culture and tech. But also I find myself holding back on actually writing substantially about anything. This is about 50% imposter syndrome (“who cares what I have to say about this topic?”) and about 30% tall poppy syndrome and then 20% not wanting to attract the spotlight so as to protect my own privacy/peace. Recently this has also been joined with not wanting to publish anything because it’s all just getting slurped up as AI training data.
But I also think this is changing over the last couple of years? Has anyone else noticed this shift? Since the death of Facebook, there’s been more of a desire to return to classical blogging. I mean, this prompt is a great example of this shift. People are owning their own internet again and I love it. So recently, that’s been the thing I’m interested in writing about: how the internet is maybe getting better and how we can contribute to this?
Who are you writing for?
Myself. As I mention on my /about page, I’ve done my best to remove any code that can track visitors to this page. I also don’t look at the access logs for this host. So there could be a thousand people reading this. There could be no-one. I’ll never know. And I prefer it this way. The more I feel like someone is actually reading this, the more reluctant I am to actually publish anything (or rather, there are a couple of people in my mind that I’m not writing for. Little haters both real and imaginary. Every word I publish on here is written knowing there’s a good chance it’ll be taken by those people and used for snarky back-biting and I’m writing it in spite of them - feels good, man).
I feel like this audience-ignorance lets me be a slightly more authentic me? When I first started writing here, I was writing as if I was part of the larger tech blogosphere and I cringe when I look back over everything I wrote at that time. It sounds so false, so not me. I’ve landed on a more neutral-sounding tone now. It’s still not the way I actually talk (IRL, I swear like a sailor) but this a pretty good, slightly-more-professional approcimation of me.
What’s your favourite post on your blog?
Okay so this is cheating a little but this little jaunt down memory lane has reminded me of the time for fuckcuntandbollocks.com that myself and my friend Puppy Boylan came up with an idea for a whole Dan Aykroyd-themed restaurant featuring dishes that were puns on his filmography, like “The Blues Burger” and “Driving Miss Egg Mayonnaisey”. It’s not the best thing I’ve ever written but the week we spent thinking of these stupid jokes is one of my happiest and most cherished memories.
Any future plans for your blog? Maybe a redesign, a move to another platform, or addinga new feature?
I’ve been quietly working away for the past month or two. Tidying things up in the backend here. Tweaking the design there. And as I said before, I want to get better at publishing my stuff here before the anywhere else. I want to turn this place into my actual digital home, rather than having accounts strewn around a half-dozen walled gardens.
(Except for my Tumblr. I love Tumblr so much and I’ll never stop using that service but I’m never integrating that shit again.)
Tag ’em
I’d like to keep it local to Ireland, so I nominate Kevin!
The fuckin balls it takes to trick an audience into thinking they’re just getting a sweet geri-action heist film by drawing cute comparisons to Mission Impossible films where the action isn’t running full speed across roofs and jumping impossible gaps but is instead just getting a thing down from a high place. But then to pull the rug and reveal the whole thing has been built above a deep, deep well of heartbreak that only occasionally bubbles to the surface? Incredible.
A slow burn horror about exhuming bodies to appease restless spirits. The film almost imperceptibly layers superstition upon superstition until there’s someone covered in blood and carving up pig carcasses and you’re like “okay, sure!” The middle section is old-school proper terrifying, to the point where the actual ending and final act feels like a tiny bit of a let-down. It went in a completely different direction than the rest of the film had me expecting. If I hadn’t been receptive or hadn’t allowed myself to be pulled along by the story, I can imagine it would cross the line into ridiculous. But I should also caveat this by saying there’s a strong possibility that this is another one of those films that probably has a deeper layer to the horror that I’m unable to tap into because of my ignorance of historical geopolitics in that region.
Rob Harvilla and Yasi Salek are my favourite music podcasters and Chris Ryan and Sean Fennessy are my favourite movie podcasters. So this special live episode was a delight.
The cartoon boi-oi-oing sound effects over the opening credits had me worried this was going to be just another extremely broad Soviet-bloc comedy. And for the most part, that’s exactly what this it delivers. But in the last act, when the timey-wimey shenanigans kick in, the film jumps into another gear with some of the most enjoyable time travel antics I’ve seen in a while. Really entertaining.
Some of you might know that I track the films I watch over on Letterboxd. Sometimes I even write about the films I watch over there too. For me, 2025 is the year of POSSE (Publish (on your) Own Site, Syndicate Elsewhere), so I’m going to publish anything I write about films here first before they go up to Letterboxd.
(Also I can’t wait to write about my system for this which is absolutely bonkers).
So I’m back-filling a few of the most recent watches here, which might mean a flood of new entries for any RSS subscribers. Sorry about that!
I try to avoid lazy “this film is like <other film>” comparisons but I feel like the Den of Thieves films actively invites them, being so blatant with their uhhh let’s call them “homages”? So if the original film is dirtbag Heat, Den of Thieves 2: Pantera is dirtbag Ronin (“Ronin” is used as a callsign here and is one of the first words in the film ‐ like I said, blatant), or maybe dirtbag Oceans 12. Or maybe even dirtbag Miami Vice. Or maybe all of these things.
Point is, it has a very different vibe from the first film. Much looser. There’s less swagger and more swanning. Less out to impress the Boondock Saints crowd. More out to impress the Le Circle Rouge crowd .And it kind of suits it more? They have some fun with it, and they use Big Nick’s fish out of water schtick to great effect (“FUCK NATO!”).
Don’t get me wrong, despite its aspirations, this is still a very, very dumb film. But it’s never not entertaining and holy hell can Christian Gudegast film an action scene.
I’m delighted that Hollywood has started embracing sex again but I feel like I was oversold on how horny this film was. Not nearly as torrid or thrilling as it seems to think it is.
Apparently this started life as an episodic TV show for Disney+ and was hastily retrofitted into a full-length movie and oh boy can you can feel it. The obvious TV adaptation structure pokes through pretty hard, especially in the first half of the film. The songs, in particular, feel shoe-horned in. They’re completely forgettable and have no magic and really cement the feeling that we’re hitting the Aladdin: The Return of Jafar level of rushed cash-grabbery.
But what do I know? I asked my kids (9 and 6) if they thought this was better or worse than the original Moana and they said “much better” and they absolutely loved Maui’s “Can I get a Chee Hoo” song.