Hi all š Hope you had a good week. My week was pretty quiet (as the short weeknotes will reflect).
š” Life Update
The theme of this week continues to be me and my girlfriend looking to buy our first home. We’re having to pull out of the one we’ve put an offer accepted for1. Our cirumstances have changed and we have fallen in love with a gorgeous cottage.
All my life I’ve wanted to life in a cottage, so the chance to fulfill that dream is too good to miss. It is gorgeous and has everything you want from a cottage: wooden beams, cubby holes, slightly quirky (but large) layout, and a log burner We’ve put in an offer today. Let’s hope they accept.
Oh also, my Honda Civic turned 20 years old this week.
š Short Thoughts and Notes
Because I’m going to be a home owner at some point in the next few months I’ve gotten serious about budgeting again.
Many years ago I used YNAB, which I still like. But it’s $15 a month. So I’ve looked elsewhere. Actual is a good one. But I decided to go really geeky and am using hledger. Will I find it too tiresome and ‘manual’? Eventually. But right now it’s mostly fun.
Has a main character on a TV show ever actually died by drowning? Itās always just a cliffhanger.
I use Arq to backup files on my MacBook Pro. But it can feel a bit ‘heavy’ and slow at times. So I looked for other options for my Mac mini and I went with restic.
It uses the CLI ā unlike Arq with its GUI.
But to be honest, the GUI of Arq doesn’t do the main thing I want anyway: quickly preview different versions of a file to work out which is the one that I want to restore.2 So it doesn’t make too much of difference that restic lacks a GUI.
I’m impressed by restic thus far. It’s fast, and uses a tiny amount of CPU.
I’m using it to backup my most important files to AWS S3 ā with backups being sent to S3 Glacier after a month, so save money.
And my slightly less important media files are backed up to Scaleway Glacier, which only costs Ā£1.66 per TB a month.
And you know what they say, your backups aren’t truly backups until you’ve confirmed you can actually restore data from them.
Well I had to this morning. I made a mistake when doing a git rebase and lost some files. So I ran the restic command and restored the data in seconds. I’m impressed.
Food labelling around how the animals were treated before they were murdered really needs to be changed.
Maybe Iām just thick, but itās all so vague and Iām not sure exactly what they mean. āOrganicā and āHigher Welfareā are meaningless to me. At least āFree to Roamā is somewhat descriptive.
But I think most of the UK public is in a similar boat to me.
I went to a pub and at one point had three dogs in my eyeline. That should be a legal requirement for all pubs.
Something I like about 4K BluRays is that old films are being ārereleasedā on them.
Itās a great way to discover films you might not have seen before.
In May, a film I very much have seen before arrives on BluRay: A Knightās Tale. Itās a film I love.
Usually when I buy a whole chicken I use it for a roast dinner. But this week we mixed it up a used it to make a Nandosesque chicken dish with chips and coleslaw. It was a success. I love a roast, so it was a bit of a risk potentially ‘wasting’ that chicken making something else.
It was a extra-large chicken. So the next day we used the leftovers to make chicken wraps, which were delightful.
šµ Music
I listened to a bit of Jackson Browne. His music is gorgeous. His songs have a melancholic beauty that hits the same part of my brain as Van Morrison. He’s also a rare 1960/70’s musician in that had some very good albums outside of those two decades. With songs like Hold Out, Call It a Loan, On The Day, In the Shape of a Heart, Sky Blue and Black.
I saw someone rate Low as David Bowie’s best album. Not having heard it for a while, I gave it a listen. I don’t know what the best Bowie album is. But it’s Low.
Which isn’t ideal at all. And I feel bad for the owners. But… it was their dead parents house, so they’re just selling it to get their inheritence ā I’m not stopping them from moving house. And they have been bloody slow at responding to our questions. ↩︎
He was a Member of Parliament, but he’s mostly remembered for his high-quality manuscript1 collection. Though sadly a lot of his books were lost or damaged in a fire in 1731.
I thought it interesting how genealogy and ancestry determined personal status in Tudor and Stuart England.
So much so, that when the Scottish James I became King of England, many courtiers and scholars adjusted their family narratives to fit Jamesās Scottish interests.
Cotton was no different. He emphasised and possibly reinterpreted parts of his lineage to show stronger Scottish ancestry ā ignoring certain ancestors and highlighting others.
He even inserted “Bruce” as his middle name, associating himself with Robert the Bruce.
š Short Thoughts and Notes
The Qatar ExxonMobil Open: a tennis tournament brought to you by fossil fuels and sportswashing.
Tom Hardy hasnāt been in a good film for years. When I saw him pop up in a trailer I used to be like ācanāt wait to check this outā. Now when I see him I think āthis is going to be terribleā.
Nothing comes close to the anger of biting your tongue. Not yanking on your headphone wire. Not catching your pocket on a door handle. NOTHING.
Inspired and enlightened by this article, Iāve put Mastodon ācommentsā onto this blog. Feel free to add your thoughts at the bottom of the page š
Until now Iāve never really thought it about how depressing cafes in museums, art galleries and other such buildings are. In my mind these cafes should be lovely. Cosy, warming and comfortable. A place to discuss the art just seen. Instead theyāre nearly always like school cafeterias. The food trays and chairs are made out of the same plain, thin wood. The tables are arranged to get the largest number of people inside. And the lighting is bright and white. And thereās always a queue to order. I think thereās a reason why I avoid them like the plague.
One day you start blogging and before you know it your blog is ancient. Iām Left Handed, my blog largely about technology is now 15 years old.
I was amazed to see these strange white strawberries in M&S. Apparently they have a “pineapple aroma and a hint of vanilla.” So I bit into it with anticipation (it’s not every day you try a new fruit). And… it tasted just like a normal strawberry. Disappointing.
They might be called something different where you are, like pineberry. But either way, don’t buy them. They’re not worth the extra money.
With the smell of smoke still softly rising from last nights fires, me and my best friend Sam took a walk.
The ground was endlessly dew-covered and we were the only humans awake.
Amid the dank trees there was a beacon glowing. A vending machine.
I chose a curiously named drink I’d heard of but never tasted: Dr Pepper.
Looking out over the campsite, I took a sip. It was magic. It tasted unlike anything I’d ever had.
And standing there with Sam, watching mist hover above the grass and curl around the trees, the moment was perfect.
It was a ‘high’ I’ve tried to chase ever since. But every time I camped or had a Dr Pepper it was so… ordinary. It wasn’t the same as that day when I was a boy.
And when I took a sip I was transported back to that morning. This was it. This was what I’d tasted.
I don’t even know if I actually had the cherry flavoured one that fateful morning. But either way, the cherry one of 2025 tastes the same as that Dr Pepper did all those years ago. And I’m going to buy a million of them.
It’s usually foolish trying to chase nostalgia. But just sometimes, it pays off.
Reading Henrik KarlssonĀ° got me thinking about the importance of high quality ‘inputs’.
Every day, we wade through dozens of blog posts, when our reading list is full. We browse book reviews, despite having shelves of unread greatness. We scan Rotten Tomatoes, while our watchlist already contains more masterpieces than we could watch in years.
Consuming excellence isn’t a search problem. It’s a focus problem. I know which blogs have a low ‘hit’ rate. I know early on when a book isn’t good. I know I rarely gain anything from visiting a news site.
So don’t be sentimental. Be ruthless. And be aware of how short your day/week/year/life is. How many books will you read in a lifetime? Less than you think. Stop reading that average book your friend recommended and loved. Stop following that blog that isnāt interesting, just because theyāre a sweet person. Abandon that dull TV show at episode three, not episode ten.
But cutting out the mediocre isn’t enough. You not only have to consume great content, you have to engage it. Wrestle with the ideas. Connect them to your experience. Talk and write about them. Only then can they be digested and become part of your thinking.
I catch myself failing at this constantly. Loosely reading ten mediocre but easy articles instead of engaging with the exceptional one. Despite knowing that one hour deeply processing a great article yields more value than ten hours of shallow reading.
So letās not forget: excellence isn’t hidden. The challenge isn’t finding it ā it’s choosing to engage with it.
No one prepares you for the grief you feel in your 30s. Time suddenly feels like it sped up ā you’re grieving the life you thought you’d have by now, you’re seeing your parents get older, you and your loved ones are all experiencing loss in some capacity, you’re outgrowing relationships, and you’re constantly thinking of your own mortality; wanting to live life to the fullest, but “the fullest” costs money so you’re stuck working to afford a life you have no time to live.
As a 33-year-old, I fully understand where she’s coming from.
A general melancholy often surrounds me. My life isn’t bad at all, objectively speaking. But I find myself caught between a nostalgic past and a adulthood that feels different from what I imagined.
Looking at childhood photos makes me sad. I’ve fallen into watching endless nostalgia videos on social media showcasing the toys, TV shows, and life of my childhood. It creates an ache in my gut, but I can’t resist. It’s like I’m living vicariously through my past self.
It feels like just a few years ago I turned 22. Now I’m 33.
Despite recognising this fleeting nature of time, I don’t make the effort to live more. I don’t take up new hobbies, travel, or focus on my health. Instead, I continue in the same old patterns. And though I know I’ll regret this when I turn 50 (which will come around sooner than I think), I can’t seem to break the cycle.
I’ve read that many people report their 30s as their happiest decade. I hope that proves true. Despite the melancholic tone of this post, I don’t consider myself badly off. I’m not chronically depressed, financially struggling, or in poor health.
But I just feel off. The sun doesn’t shine as brightly as it once did. Few things truly excite me anymore. Life simply feels plain. I’ve been waiting for years for it to feel like it used to. But it hasn’t. And I donāt think it will.
I saw a TikTok where a wife said that when her husband claimed he’d do anything for her, he meant fighting off bears and going into battle. Not putting the washing away.
There’s a lesson about life and love in that quip. When we’re young, we imagine life’s defining moments as grand and cinematic ā standing firm against formidable foes and making dramatic declarations of love. What we don’t realise is that most of life’s biggest battles will be boring and monotonous. Often that’s precisely why they’re challenging.
It’s not about dramatic gestures or heroic moments. It’s about turning up day-in, day-out, to do something mundane that you don’t particularly enjoy. Loading the dishwasher for the thousandth time. Having the same conversation with your partner about household chores. Plodding through another week at work.
Sometimes the challenge isn’t about fighting at all, but about resisting the urge to fight. It’s holding your tongue when you could lash out. It’s choosing the difficult conversation over the slammed door.2 It’s declining the dessert when your body is screaming for a sweet treat. Life is won or lost in the quiet moments nobody applauds you for. Battles that are often internal.
It’s not whether you’d leap in front of a bus to save your loved one . It’s whether you’ll stand in the rain for ages outside the train station because your girlfriend was delayed due to chatting ā without making them feel guilty about it. The real test of love is whether you’ll do that monotonous job without being asked and without expecting a pat on the back.
Glory isn’t on the imagined battlefields, but in the quiet dignity of showing up for the small things, again and again and again.
I’ve been playing a lot of Age of Empires II over the past few weeks.
First released in 1999, I was first introduced to it by watching my Uncle play it probably some time in 2003. And I’ve been playing it on and off ever since. Over 20 years!
As a game it has had remarkable staying power. And it’s a prime example of the benefit of single player games3. Most of the games I play and have played are multiplayer. And even if I wanted to still play them, I can’t because the servers were turned off long ago. But here Age of Empires is, still working, and still being played. I love it.
In book collecting, a ‘manuscript’ typically refers to a handwritten or unpublished work, while a ‘book’ refers to a printed and bound work produced mechanically. ↩︎
I saw a TikTok where a wife said that when her husband claimed he’d do anything for her, he meant fighting off bears and going into battle. Not putting the washing away.
There’s a lesson about life and love in that quip. When we’re young, we imagine life’s defining moments as grand and cinematic ā standing firm against formidable foes and making dramatic declarations of love. What we don’t realise is that most of life’s biggest battles will be boring and monotonous. Often that’s precisely why they’re challenging.
It’s not about dramatic gestures or heroic moments. It’s about turning up day-in, day-out, to do something mundane that you don’t particularly enjoy. Loading the dishwasher for the thousandth time. Having the same conversation with your partner about household chores. Plodding through another week at work.
Sometimes the challenge isn’t about fighting at all, but about resisting the urge to fight. It’s holding your tongue when you could lash out. It’s choosing the difficult conversation over the slammed door.1 It’s declining the dessert when your body is screaming for a sweet treat. Life is won or lost in the quiet moments nobody applauds you for. Battles that are often internal.
It’s not whether you’d leap in front of a bus to save your loved one . It’s whether you’ll stand in the rain for ages outside the train station because your girlfriend was delayed due to chatting ā without making them feel guilty about it. The real test of love is whether you’ll do that monotonous job without being asked and without expecting a pat on the back.
Glory isn’t on the imagined battlefields, but in the quiet dignity of showing up for the small things, again and again and again.
No one prepares you for the grief you feel in your 30s. Time suddenly feels like it sped up ā you’re grieving the life you thought you’d have by now, you’re seeing your parents get older, you and your loved ones are all experiencing loss in some capacity, you’re outgrowing relationships, and you’re constantly thinking of your own mortality; wanting to live life to the fullest, but “the fullest” costs money so you’re stuck working to afford a life you have no time to live.
As a 33-year-old, I fully understand where she’s coming from.
A general melancholy often surrounds me. My life isn’t bad at all, objectively speaking. But I find myself caught between a nostalgic past and a adulthood that feels different from what I imagined.
Looking at childhood photos makes me sad. I’ve fallen into watching endless nostalgia videos on social media showcasing the toys, TV shows, and life of my childhood. It creates an ache in my gut, but I can’t resist. It’s like I’m living vicariously through my past self.
It feels like just a few years ago I turned 22. Now I’m 33.
Despite recognising this fleeting nature of time, I don’t make the effort to live more. I don’t take up new hobbies, travel, or focus on my health. Instead, I continue in the same old patterns. And though I know I’ll regret this when I turn 50 (which will come around sooner than I think), I can’t seem to break the cycle.
I’ve read that many people report their 30s as their happiest decade. I hope that proves true. Despite the melancholic tone of this post, I don’t consider myself badly off. I’m not chronically depressed, financially struggling, or in poor health.
But I just feel off. The sun doesn’t shine as brightly as it once did. Few things truly excite me anymore. Life simply feels plain. I’ve been waiting for years for it to feel like it used to. But it hasn’t. And I donāt think it will.
Reading Henrik KarlssonĀ° got me thinking about the importance of high quality ‘inputs’.
Every day, we wade through dozens of blog posts, when our reading list is full. We browse book reviews, despite having shelves of unread greatness. We scan Rotten Tomatoes, while our watchlist already contains more masterpieces than we could watch in years.
Consuming excellence isn’t a search problem. It’s a focus problem. I know which blogs have a low ‘hit’ rate. I know early on when a book isn’t good. I know I rarely gain anything from visiting a news site.
So don’t be sentimental. Be ruthless. And be aware of how short your day/week/year/life is. How many books will you read in a lifetime? Less than you think. Stop reading that average book your friend recommended and loved. Stop following that blog that isnāt interesting, just because theyāre a sweet person. Abandon that dull TV show at episode three, not episode ten.
But cutting out the mediocre isn’t enough. You not only have to consume great content, you have to engage it. Wrestle with the ideas. Connect them to your experience. Talk and write about them. Only then can they be digested and become part of your thinking.
I catch myself failing at this constantly. Loosely reading ten mediocre but easy articles instead of engaging with the exceptional one. Despite knowing that one hour deeply processing a great article yields more value than ten hours of shallow reading.
So letās not forget: excellence isn’t hidden. The challenge isn’t finding it ā it’s choosing to engage with it.
With the smell of smoke still softly rising from last nights fires, me and my best friend Sam took a walk.
The ground was endlessly dew-covered and we were the only humans awake.
Amid the dank trees there was a beacon glowing. A vending machine.
I chose a curiously named drink I’d heard of but never tasted: Dr Pepper.
Looking out over the campsite, I took a sip. It was magic. It tasted unlike anything I’d ever had.
And standing there with Sam, watching mist hover above the grass and curl around the trees, the moment was perfect.
It was a ‘high’ I’ve tried to chase ever since. But every time I camped or had a Dr Pepper it was so… ordinary. It wasn’t the same as that day when I was a boy.
And when I took a sip I was transported back to that morning. This was it. This was what I’d tasted.
I don’t even know if I actually had the cherry flavoured one that fateful morning. But either way, the cherry one of 2025 tastes the same as that Dr Pepper did all those years ago. And I’m going to buy a million of them.
It’s usually foolish trying to chase nostalgia. But just sometimes, it pays off.
Hi all š Hope you had a good week. Here’s what Iāve been thinking, learning, writing and photographing.
š” Life Update
The theme of the week is that me and my girlfriend have had an offer on a house accepted. But sheās now seen another one that she likes more. I prefer the first one, she prefers the second. So we need to work out what we’re going to do. My plan: let the gods decide. If we put an offer on house two and itās accepted, then weāll go for it.
š Short Thoughts and Notes
If a video starts with a dude wearing a backwards baseball cap, nothing interesting or good is about to happen. I immediately scroll.
Weird hearing someone say āWSJā out loud instead of āWall Street Journalā ā it takes longer to say! Like that Alan Partridge bit about āVWā vs āVolkswagenā.
I wish I had the strength to get up and walk away when presented with a QR menu in a restaurant.
Talking of QR codes. Iām amazed by how ubiquitous they are now. I remember when they first appeared. They were a bit of a flop. Youād rarely see them. And non-techies didnāt know what they were or how to interact with them. But now theyāre on anything and everything, and even my Dad knows how to scan them.
š§ Things I Learnt
I lost the momentum of my reading habit when I was sick a few weeks back. And I’m yet to properly pick it up again. So I haven’t learnt too much this week.
But I did learn a new word: pogonophile ā a person who likes beards.
Raising a glass of Wild Turkey to Hunter S. Thompson, who died 20 years ago today. The father of Gonzo journalism, he was a rebel, trailblazer, and master of chaos. (1937-2005) š¦
The towers are gone now, reduced to bloody rubble, along with all hopes for Peace in Our Time, in the United States or any other country. Make no mistake about it: We are At War now ā with somebody ā and we will stay At War with that mysterious Enemy for the rest of our lives.
It will be a Religious War, a sort of Christian Jihad, fueled by religious hatred and led by merciless fanatics on both sides. It will be guerilla warfare on a global scale, with no front lines and no identifiable enemy.
[…] We are going to punish somebody for this attack, but just who or what will be blown to smithereens for it is hard to say. Maybe Afghanistan, maybe Pakistan or Iraq, or possibly all three at once.
Creative control of the James Bond film franchise is to become an all-American affair after long-time rights holders Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson announced they were stepping down and handing the reins to Amazon MGM Studios.
I think this is bad news, despite them remaining āco-ownersā of the franchise.
It always seemed that āBondā as a franchise and all it represents was largely held together by the dedication of Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson ā they were more than mere rights holders. They understood Bond, and Iām sure stopped many attempts to āmoderniseā it.
Iām unsure how Amazonian MGM is. But after the dull Rings of Power, I donāt trust Amazon Studios to make the next Bond instalment(s) any good. I hope Iām wrong.
[Broccoli] was said to be relaxed about casting a person of colour or a gay actor, but less comfortable with a female or non-British Bond.
I wouldnāt say thereās loads of pressure for the next Bond to be non-white, American, gay or a woman1 ā mostly it just seems to be the media writing about it because they know it stirs the pot. But I trusted Broccoli and co. to not cave into any pressure if it wasn’t right for Bond. Whereas Amazon MGM might want to mix things up a bit too much with a strange choice for Bond or by changing the feel of the films.
I’m not silly enough to think that just because Amazon makes the punch-y Reacher and geopolitically charged Jack Ryan that their Bond will be an awful mix of the two ā I’m sure they’re not that clueless. But whatever their Bond’s ‘feel’ is, I expect it to be mediocre.
Though you never know, maybe they’ll improve it.2 I loved the Daniel Craig films and heās my favourite Bond. But I would like a bit more fun and suavity injected back into it. Maybe Prime will deliver.
Security officials in the United Kingdom have demanded that Apple create a back door allowing them to retrieve all the content any Apple user worldwide has uploaded to the cloudā¦
The British governmentās undisclosed order, issued last month, requires blanket capability to view fully encrypted material, not merely assistance in cracking a specific account, and has no known precedent in major democracies.
One of the things I hate most about Britain and its governments3 is its weird anti-privacy obsession.
Itās currently 01:32 and I was due to be asleep quite a few hours ago.
Itās fine. Once or twice a week I struggle to sleep. Itās a pain ā especially when Iām working in-office the next day. But Iām used to it.4
On these sleepless evenings I worry about the lack of sleep Iām going to get. But another thing I think about is how much I like the nighttime.
I donāt do fun stuff like gaming whilst up late, like I did in my teenage years. I donāt do much at all really ā just read, watch, and fiddle with my phone. Thatās not why I like it.
I like it because the hours between 22:00ā03:00 are when my brain and body work their best ā Iām creative and energetic. And it makes me miss those years when I had a sleep pattern of 04:00ā12:00.
Waking up early5 doesnāt bother me too much. Iāve even learnt to enjoy it.6 But on those days when I stay up late I get a glimpse of those midnight, witching hours that my internal clock is built for.
š¬ Films
Shrek 2 (2004)
When I saw a band dedicated to music from the Shrek films (The Ogretones (I even bought the t-shirt) they asked the crowd which was their favourite one. To my surprise Shrek 2 got by far the most cheers.
Iāve always thought of Shrek as the superior film, with the second one being decent and fun, but not quite in the same league.
So on this rewatching I tried to watch it through the lens of being better.
I still think #1 is the better film, technically. But #2 is just so much bloody fun. Thereās so much humour, joy, and energy.
I ate at IKEA because my girlfriend had never eaten there before. It took a couple of visits to convince her to try it (it didn’t look appetising to her at all).
Letās be honest, the food isnāt special. Itās just exceptionally cheap. Except itās not so cheap anymore. We paid Ā£20.40 for 2 x meals, 2 x desserts and 2 x drinks. Cheaper than a restaurant thatās for sure. But itās school cafeteria food at the end of the day. Still, I enjoyed the novelty factor.
Maryland Cookies
Maryland Cookies have been around for many years, and in the UK they’re the ‘default’ mass-produced cookie.7
I remember having them a few years ago and being shocked by their small size and lack of chocolate chips.
But they’re actually very good now. They’re still small, but they always have plenty of chocolate chips and taste perfectly pleasant considering you can get a pack for 90p.
Squashies Drumchick
I first ate these after eating some super sour sweats, and they tasted like nothing.
So when I came back a few days later to finish the pack I was shocked when I loved them. Their flavour is mild, but pleasant and addictive. And the little bird sweets are very cute.
Jelly Tots Tangy
Cook a cat, these are delicious. The tanginess and bitterness arrives the moment they hit your tongue. They do taste a bit artificial. But aside from that, these are tremendous.
š¤³ Photos
These cleaning gloves at IKEA look like they want to check my prostate.
For my part, I think Bond canāt be a woman. But he can be non-white, or played by a non-British, non-heterosexual actor. ↩︎
For all my concerns about the quality of future Bond films, there’s been plenty of clangers down the years. The films are beloved, but not always good. ↩︎
And it is governments. Several governments, across both political parties, have tried their best to add encryption back doors. ↩︎
And often itās self-inflicted. It is tonight. I ate some chocolate bars after dinner, so the caffeine in it is keeping me up. ↩︎
I tend to wake up at 06:30 in the winter months, and 06:00 in the summer months. ↩︎
Morning walks and reading are very pleasurable. ↩︎
For my US readers, they’re the UK equivalent of Chips Ahoy. ↩︎
Creative control of the James Bond film franchise is to become an all-American affair after long-time rights holders Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson announced they were stepping down and handing the reins to Amazon MGM Studios.
I think this is bad news, despite them remaining āco-ownersā of the franchise.
It always seemed that āBondā as a franchise and all it represents was largely held together by the dedication of Barbara Broccoli and Michael Wilson ā they were more than mere rights holders. They understood Bond, and Iām sure stopped many attempts to āmoderniseā it.
Iām unsure how Amazonian MGM is. But after the dull Rings of Power, I donāt trust Amazon Studios to make the next Bond instalment(s) any good. I hope Iām wrong.
[Broccoli] was said to be relaxed about casting a person of colour or a gay actor, but less comfortable with a female or non-British Bond.
I wouldnāt say thereās loads of pressure for the next Bond to be non-white, American, gay or a woman1 ā mostly it just seems to be the media writing about it because they know it stirs the pot. But I trusted Broccoli and co. to not cave into any pressure if it wasn’t right for Bond. Whereas Amazon MGM might want to mix things up a bit too much with a strange choice for Bond or by changing the feel of the films.
I’m not silly enough to think that just because Amazon makes the punch-y Reacher and geopolitically charged Jack Ryan that their Bond will be an awful mix of the two ā I’m sure they’re not that clueless. But whatever their Bond’s ‘feel’ is, I expect it to be mediocre.
Though you never know, maybe they’ll improve it.2 I loved the Daniel Craig films and heās my favourite Bond. But I would like a bit more fun and suavity injected back into it. Maybe Prime will deliver.
For my part, I think Bond canāt be a woman. But he can be non-white, or played by a non-British, non-heterosexual actor. ↩︎
For all my concerns about the quality of future Bond films, there’s been plenty of clangers down the years. The films are beloved, but not always good. ↩︎
Raising a glass of Wild Turkey to Hunter S. Thompson, who died 20 years ago today. The father of Gonzo journalism, he was a rebel, trailblazer, and master of chaos. (1937-2005) š¦
The towers are gone now, reduced to bloody rubble, along with all hopes for Peace in Our Time, in the United States or any other country. Make no mistake about it: We are At War now ā with somebody ā and we will stay At War with that mysterious Enemy for the rest of our lives.
It will be a Religious War, a sort of Christian Jihad, fueled by religious hatred and led by merciless fanatics on both sides. It will be guerilla warfare on a global scale, with no front lines and no identifiable enemy.
[…] We are going to punish somebody for this attack, but just who or what will be blown to smithereens for it is hard to say. Maybe Afghanistan, maybe Pakistan or Iraq, or possibly all three at once.
Hi all š Hope you had a good week. Here’s what I’ve been up to.
š General notes
I had a cold
I picked up a cold two weeks ago and it took me 10 days just to feel vaguely normal. It really did beat me up.
It also made me oddly sad/depressed, which I haven’t experienced before via a cold. Very odd.
One thing I hate about being unwell is how my brain doesn’t work and I can’t read. It’s a shame, because I was throrougly enjoying “The Posthumous Papers of the Manuscripts Club” by Christopher de Hamel.
I did that typical thing of being unwell and thinking about life before being unwell and how wonderful it was and how when I felt better I was going to not take it for granted and look after myself better. And then I also did that thing of just carrying on as normal.
Step bet
In 2025 I have a wager going with me and two of my friends. Whoever does the least average steps per day has to pay for a feast of food and drink at a restaurant in London at Christmas.
And sadly being ill has put me out of the habit of hitting my daily step goal. I’m aiming for 7,800 per day, as I once watched a video that said the benefits of steps start to plateau at around that point. And 7,800 per day should be enough to beat my friends.
Buying a property
The biggest news of my week (and probably year) is that me and my girlfriend are buying a property! (It’s still all to be finalised, but barring a disaster, it’s happening). It has plenty of nice features. But the one I love above all else: its garden backs onto a huge field.
I’ve always dreamed of living right by woods and greenery, but I didn’t think for a second that it would be possible with my first property. I was hoping to just live within a short drive of one. So having easy access to one is fantastic. And it’s big too, not just a small park for dog walkers. I’m yet to walk around it to confirm, but it’s probably a 60 minute walk to loop all around it.
And of course a side benefit of this is that my step count will go up massively. Fingers crossed the purchase doesn’t all fall through.
Flannel
My body runs cold these days. A t-shirt and jacket doesn’t cut it anymore. So I’ve started wearing a flannel shirt over my t-shirt. I like it.
It keeps me warmer both outside and at home.
It’s smarter than a t-shirt.
There’s breast pockets for my Field Notes and pen.
I don’t have to wash the shirt often as my t-shirt takes the brunt of my sweat.
I have a few flannel shirts ā by Uniqlo and Abercrombie & Fitch. But I’m currently fatter than normal, so most don’t fit me with a t-shirt underneath. So I used that as a good excuse to try and find a high-quality one to add to my Christmas list.
I considered L.L.Bean. But I remembered the character of Joel in The Last of Us TV show (absolutely fantastic show by the way) wore a gorgeous green one. So I looked it up, and you can buy it. It’s the FjƤllglim shirt in laurel green by Fjallraven and I’m now the proud owner of one.
š Other notes
Most of my weekend has been spent microdosing liquorice.
Itās sad that if I see someone in the street jumping for joy, dancing or singing I assume that theyāre either mentally ill or on drugs. Loudly and openly expressed joy is taboo (Especially in Britain. We look down on that sort of thing).
š¬ Film
Furiosa: A Mad Max Saga
I like the previous Tom Hardy / Charlize Theron one a lot ā itās a lot of fun. And Iāve rewatched it many times. But I didnāt have too much interest in a sequel. So itās taken me a while to watch this.
It takes a little while for the film to āwarm upā, with the first 40 minutes or so not grabbing much of my attention. But once it finds its feet this becomes a nice addition to the world of Mad Max. And there’s a war rig sequence in the middle that is especially good.
Like the previous one this is a visual feast ā though the stylised and juddery CGI takes some getting used to.
Chris Hemsworth is fun. But the problem is that heās too silly to be an evil villain, and he’s one of the weaker parts of the film.
The sound design is incredible. Volume wise it’s perfect, becoming loud only when it needs to (I didn’t have to constantly have the remote in my hand).
Itās not quite as good as the first one. Especially plot/story wise. But as a spectacle itās still great fun.
Though every year I think maybe Iāll skip the annual rewatch and give it a break (I’m always scared of watching something I love too often and getting sick of it). But most years I simply canāt resist it. And the same is true in 2025.
I did miss a few episodes this time, as I fell asleep most nights with it on in the background. And I never watch the final few episodes after they ‘return’.
There’s plenty of TV shows I feel nostalgic towards. But Only Fools is in a whole other league. I think because I first watched it young, and because it looks so old now. It feels from a whole other era. And I love it.
I wouldn’t recommend most people to watch it though. Non-English shouldn’t watch it, because the jokes are quite UK-specific. And younger people shouldn’t watch it because it does feel quite dated. Don’t get me wrong though, if you like the look of it, give it a go!
One thing you learn about me is that I like routines and traditions. And for quite a few years my routine when I would get drunk was to fall asleep whilst watching Iām Alan Partridge.
I don’t drink much these days (between the ages of 22-29 I would get drunk probably once a week. For the past several years I only get drunk 3-4 times a year), and when I do I don’t watch this show anymore. So it’s been a long time since I’ve seen it. Too long, considering it’s one of my favourite shows ever.
If you don’t know, Alan Partridge is a comedy character created by Steve Coogan and Armando Iannucci. He’s a failed TV presenter turned local radio DJ in Norwich, characterised by his social awkwardness, inflated sense of self-importance, and constant failed attempts to revive his TV career. He represents a particular type of desperate, middle-aged British media personality who can’t accept that his best days are behind him. And he makes hilarious viewing.
Explore our hand-picked collection of 10,046 out-of-copyright works, free for all to browse, download, and reuse. This is a living database with new images added every week.
My instinct is to ramble when I write. And whilst my final ruthlessly edited drafts are fairly compact, could I go further, into minimalist territory?
As a blogger, what style and length should your writing be? Short and punchy? Or longer and more in-depth, with plenty of details and examples?
I have a “Essays & Long-form” folder in my RSS reader, full of great writers. Yet most days I don’t even look in there. Itās rare for me to have the motivation to read 2000 words on medieval side hustles, for example. And when I do look in there and see a long post I like I’ll save it in my āread laterā app. Where the article will likely remain, unread.
I never have that problem with concise writers. Derek Sivers’ writing is compact in the extreme.1 I’ll always read it right away.
And yet, when I look at some of my favourite ever articles they’re nearly always detailed, long-form and verbose. My life has never been changed by a 250 word article. In fact, I often forget I ever read them.
Take Shortform, a service that summarises books so you donāt have to bother reading the book. It’s a nice idea. I was subscribed for a month or two. But I can’t remember much about the books I ‘read’ on there.
Concepts themselves are often easy enough to understand. It’s the nuances, the multiple examples, the drawn-out explanations that actually make them stick. And itās tough for a reader to emotionally connect with a summary.
As a blogger, you should default to succinctness. People often read in āin betweenā moments and thereās always fierce competition for a blog readers attention. But it’s vital to find a balance between making your writing concise enough to respect readers’ time, but long enough to let your ideas breathe.
The ultimate aim is to make it short enough to finish, long enough to matter.
It’s time I face facts: these traits aren’t vanishing. They’re part of me.
Iām learning that ADHD is about balance. Accepting some things, fighting others. Setting realistic expectations.
Frozen meals five nights a week? That’s okay. It beats fast food and sweets when I’m knackered and hungry. I’ll focus on adding fruit and veg instead.
Forget minute-by-minute routines. They’re a recipe for failure. I’ll nail the essentials: teeth, shower, tidy up. Make reading, walks and meditation optional. No more ‘ruined’ days when I skip them.
At work, I’ll be upfront: “I process information better in writing. Mind if I share my screen to take notes? You can correct any mistakes.”
Living with ADHD means working with my brain, not against it. It’s about finding strategies that actually work, not expecting myself to fit into the neurotypical mould.
The list has things like toiletries, tupperware, towels, kitchen gadgets, clothing and shoes. All things that I spend a lot of time organising when I should probably be minimising.
My ADHD complicates and makes things worse. Every item has an oversized effect. The burden of storing it, cleaning it, and organising it is immense.
ADHD folk should live simply and minimally. But instead we impulse buy and pick up a new hobby every month.
So we end up with unneeded things haunting us for years. We stuff it into the back of cupboards and closets, when we should just admit defeat and throw it away.
We cling to clutter for silly reasons:
“I’ll sell it someday.” (No, we won’t.)
“I’ll restart that two-week hobby.” (No, we won’t.)
“It’s too big for the bin and requires a tip run.” (So, just do it.)
“I can’t be bothered right now.” (So, just do it.)
We only eventually throw it away when we have an overstimulated panic about it.
Iām known in my family for āsquirrellingā things away ā pilling things up in closets instead of organising or chucking them. And when I do that one of two things happen:
I totally forget about the item until I stumble upon it again in 6 months.
I think about the item daily. Itās difficult to explain, but it takes up space in my brain. Whilst itās unorganised in a closet my brain is constantly āawareā of it and it somehow uses up my limited brain power.
So I should just throw things away. And I will. At some point anyway.
In Parks and Recreation’s third season there’s a moment that perfectly captures the introvert’s dilemma.
Ron, a man who guards his privacy and peace fiercely, dreads Leslie’s notorious penchant for over-the-top celebrations. As the day approaches, his anxiety builds. But when the moment arrives, he’s met with an unexpected gift - solitude. Leslie has arranged for him to enjoy a steak, whisky, and “The Bridge on the River Kwai” in peaceful isolation.
I see my own struggles mirrored perfectly in this scene. Like Ron, I approach birthdays with trepidation.
The obligatory dinner out fills me with unease. I spend the evening on edge, anticipating the dreaded moment when waitstaff emerge with a cake, subjecting me to the half-hearted “happy birthday to you” singing of strangers.
Gift-opening becomes a performative ordeal, with anticipating gazes fixed upon me. My struggle to express enthusiasm has disappointed gift givers more than once.
The same is true of reading cards. You can feel their expectant eyes burning into you as you read their kind words, unsure how to react or what to say. Do I go and hug them or just say thanks? I never know.
You don’t want to complain about any of this of course. People’s hearts are in the right place and they’re just trying to be kind.
Though, there are those few who take a perverse pleasure in purposefully doing things they know you’ll hate. Seeing you distressed and uncomfortable seems to bring them joy.
It’s ironic that on the one day meant to celebrate me, I too often feel like I’m conforming to others’ expectations. It feels less about my happiness, and more about fulfilling social conventions.
This birthday conundrum exemplifies a broader issue: our extrovert-centric world often overlooks the needs of introverts.
So the idea of a Ron Swanson-style birthday - one tailored to my own quiet, simple preferences - sounds like bliss. And I’m sure it does for other introverts too.
Research psychologist Robert Epstein argues that our understanding of the human brain is being held back by the persuasive ’the brain is like a computer’ metaphor.
I especially like this passage showing that our knowledge of ourselves has always been influenced by the technology of the time. We’re just too complicated, so we shoehorn in mechanical parallels:
In his book In Our Own Image (2015), the artificial intelligence expert George Zarkadakis describes six different metaphors people have employed over the past 2,000 years to try to explain human intelligence.
In the earliest one, eventually preserved in the Bible, humans were formed from clay or dirt, which an intelligent god then infused with its spirit…
The invention of hydraulic engineering in the 3rd century BCE led to the popularity of a hydraulic model of human intelligence, the idea that the flow of different fluids in the body ā the āhumoursā ā accounted for both our physical and mental functioning. The hydraulic metaphor persisted for more than 1,600 years, handicapping medical practice all the while.
The mathematician John von Neumann stated flatly that the function of the human nervous system is āprima facie digitalā, drawing parallel after parallel between the components of the computing machines of the day and the components of the human brain
Each metaphor reflected the most advanced thinking of the era that spawned it. Predictably, just a few years after the dawn of computer technology in the 1940s, the brain was said to operate like a computer, with the role of physical hardware played by the brain itself and our thoughts serving as software…
What about digitising a brain?:
Even if we had the ability to take a snapshot of all of the brainās 86 billion neurons and then to simulate the state of those neurons in a computer, that vast pattern would mean nothing outside the body of the brain that produced it.
Iām currently reading “English Food: A Peopleās Historyā by Diane Purkiss. I thought this passage on Virginia Woolfās depression treatment interesting:
Virginia Woolf, on the other hand, was in the 1920s treated, if that is the right word, by the then recommended regime of complete rest ā not even books were allowed, lest they excite the brain ā milk, weight gain, fresh air and early nights. One of her doctors, Sir George Savage, was especially keen to treat neurasthenic women by excessive feeding and complete rest. Woolf was given four or five pints of milk every day, half a pint every two hours. After five days of milk on this scale, she was allowed to add a cutlet, malt extract, cod liver oil and beef tea. The rather brainless thinking behind the regime was that since patients like Woolf stopped eating and lost weight when depressed, they could be forced back into wellness by being made to gain weight.
Imagine having depression and your ātreatmentā is being forced to do nothing and drink loads of milk.
Side note. I like this picture of her. She looks so very human:
Thereās a section on the hardships of people during the Great Depression. And after a sad, brief mention of a woman named Annie Weaving who died aged 37Ā° potentially due to not being able to feed both herself and her family thereās a reference to something called āprotective foodsā.
Iād never heard the term. I thought they might be āprotectedā as in having their price controlled by the government. But itās actually the precursor to the food pyramid idea.
One poster I found promoting it suggests this:
PINT MILK, 1 EGG, 1 POTATO AND TWO OTHER VEGETABLES (ONE OF THESE A GREEN LEAFY ONE), 2 SERVINGS OF FRUIT (AT LEAST ONE RAW), 1 SERVING OF MEAT OR FISH, 1 OZ. BUTTER.
And I think it still holds up. Could it be improved? Probably. But itās simple and realistic. I like it.
People often overthink diet. So I like simplicity. It reminds me of Michael Pollan’s mantra:
Eat food. Not too much. Mostly plants.
Some info on the history of the food pyramid hereĀ°.
One of the things I donāt like about certain religious groups and people is their love of round numbers. Or more specifically round years. Every new century, half-century or decade they claim something miraculous and/or terrible is going to happen1
To me itās just lazy, easy prophesying. And I find it rather silly. If religion is fantasy then these predictions are high fantasy. Theyāre always the same. The non-believers will burn. And the believers will live in a utopia or be taken to heaven. Thereās never any subtlety or precision.
And itās been happening for centuries. In the book Iām currently reading ā āConquerors: How Portugal Forged the First Global Empire" by Roger Crowley ā it talks about how as the year 1500 approached Christianās in Europe were expecting a huge event, as always. And of course nothing happened, as always.
Researching this phenomenon Iāve discovered thereās a name for it: Millenarianism. Iām sure itās a phenomenon that wonāt end any time soon.
Though 2012 wasnāt very round. Iāll give them that one. ↩︎
