Ask David Attenborough a question

I was only going to post once today (a satirical notion I’ve had kicking around my head for a while), however, I just remembered that I will be attending a presentation on the highly successful BBC nature documentary series Planet Earth II tomorrow and Sir David Attenborough is set to appear as a special guest and speaker. As far as I know, there will be a Q&A session afterwards and I am very interested in asking a question. Then I thought about this blog and the very modestly broad global reach that I have built around it. So, here’s my thought; would any of my readers like me to ask David Attenborough a question for them tomorrow? I quite liked that idea. The internet can be used to do some pretty cool things and everybody likes those kings of things to happen from time to time, right?

Please write a question you would like me to ask Attenborough in the comments section and I will pick the best and, if I get the chance, I will get an answer for you. I will post everything he says in a new post. If I don’t get the chance then that’s that. I can try to approach him after, but bear in mind he’s a 90 year old man and I’d much rather not bother him, though I may try. I don’t know if I can promise much more.

I know it’s short notice, but surely you must have one question for the man who did this:


A History of the Future (Part 1)


  The Oxford Society Press History of the World

Chapter 24

 “North America in nuclear ruin: an introduction”

Surprisingly, it wasn’t until the latter half of Trump’s second presidential term that the United States found itself engaged in an irredeemably devastating and entirely one sided thermo-nuclear altercation.

With the luxury of hindsight, and the clarifying detachment permitted by the passing of time, it is only now that we can truly appreciate how entertainingly the whole affair must have transpired. It would certainly have made quite a picture on the screen, performed as it was like the comedic theatre of antiquity.

           Donald Trump Pre-Nuclear Assault

In one of fate’s cruelest practical jokes, the first round of warheads were – as a wealth of recent study has verified – strategically and systematically targeted at all Trump branded properties across the United States, including Trump International Hotel Waikiki, Hawaii, and Trump Waste Disposals, Alaska. In a blink of fractionally greater than an instant, the entirety of the President’s real-estate portfolio was scaled down to scarcely more than a scattered mess of dust and rubble. Before domestic intelligence services, the global markets, or news media organizations could even register such a sharp and violent calamity, a second batch of drops devastated every major metropolitan area between and along America’s two great coastlines in addition to all state capitals and a meticulous selection of tactical military installations across the country.  

Subsequent deposits thoroughly disabled the nation’s travel infrastructure; ports and harbors smashed and surrendered to the water; airports reduced to little more than fused glass and evaporated tar; charcoal and warped metal all that remains of the once envied trans-continental rail road. In all (though exact estimates of the total payload are a matter of the wildest speculation at best) it can be asserted with some confidence that widespread  and significant deposits were delivered consistently over a 5 day period. The result, as has been documented at length, the absolute and total mutilation of the American nation. 

Perhaps the most unfortunate detail in this whole catastrophe was the absolute lack of anticipation and forward planning on the part of United States as well the international  community at large. They foresaw neither what had hit them nor how meticulously the game would be dominated from move one. The prospect of counter-strike was an impossibility; the origins of the attack having gone completely unnoticed by all of America’s most advanced object-detection technologies. Few senior defence officials at the time could have considered the very notion as even remotely plausible. Quite simply put, this was the greatest global security and intelligence failure witnessed in the modern era. That is not to suggest that the existence of any such foresight would have made much difference to how events transpired. Consider, for example, the assertions of Isaiah Berlin in his exploration of Machiavelli’s philosophy: “To know the worst is not always to be liberated from its consequences.” Berlin may have conceded that such knowledge may nevertheless be “preferable to ignorance,” but it cannot be said for sure that had any kind of last minute revelation been offered, it would have changed matters in any significant manner. Of course, we will never truly know the available options because on that fateful November evening, the United States became the first casualty in what many view to be the most uncertain and terrifying period of instability civilization has yet encountered. To quote the remarks of the French political theorist Jean-Luc Bagoulette, “Global warming suddenly became the least of our concerns.”

A Nuclear Blast

Without doubt, the November Rain1 represented the single most devastating nuclear unloading on a single nation in human history and the magnitude of such an event cannot be overstated. Through cross-disciplinary study and forensic data collection from a wide and varying spectrum of sources, the expert consensus has calculated the total loss of life at just short of genocide with close to a 75% fatality rate. A digestible statistic through the lens of historical recollection, but a truly cataclysmic happening at the time. Try to imagine the irreconcilable disfigurement of the entirety of human existence and that is barely half of the psychological journey one would need to traverse in trying to understand the magnitude of such a happening. For those caught in the event, this was the absolute armageddon. 

For the survivors, to leave the country was an absolute necessity and thus began the largest migration of refugees since WWII. Some were fortunate and had resources to move North to whosoever could host them. However, for millions of impoverished, sick, starving and dying unfortunates, the only viable route of escape lay across the southern border and through the harsh terrain of Mexico. 

Despite many sincere and concerted efforts to the contrary, no direct link has yet been established between Trump’s domestic and foreign policies and the motivations behind the disaster. However, these factors are of paramount importance when addressing the months that followed. Consider a proposition: could those people who championed and implemented Trump’s policies regarding Mexico, those workers who fixed steel and poured concrete into the wall, to the whole economy it supported, could they ever have anticipated that this unrelenting structure, built so enthusiastically to keep the internationals out on one side, would serve the dual purpose of more than adequately keeping their compatriots trapped in on the other? How ironic that the difference of opinions on Mexican immigration that contributed in no small part to the outcome of the 2016 election would so define the fate of so many desperate American refugees such a short time in the future. In fact, the topic of Mexican immigration was even a great cause for amusement and mockery for a not insignificant number of American voters in the run up to the 2016 election. With this in mind, the subsequent actions of the Mexican government, and their prohibitions on any and all southerly migration, are of little surprise. 

Map of United States

While a remarkable volume of literature has laid great emphasis on the seemingly random and unprecedented nature of the Great American Disaster (and certainly its causes are a source of much dispute in academic and public debate), in the interest of forming a rounded viewpoint of the event, it is first necessary to firmly establish a clear grasp of context in any mind committed to such investigation. If one is to learn anything from human calamity, first one must appreciate the social, economic and political circumstances with which it is irrevocably linked. In order to properly examine this particular episode in human history, we must first establish a starting point from which all subsequent events can be traced. For the Great American Disaster, there is no better a place to start than the 2016 presidential election and particularly the seminal role played by Hillary Clinton in what would become the nuclear ruin of the United States. 

(To be continued.)

1. The origins of this term have been widely disputed almost as long as it has been in use. It is speculated to have been coined by an inhabitant of Los Angeles, California, who, returning to the city after a weekend in the Nevada desert, noted a “heavy downpour” on his journey back across state lines. Interestingly, meteorological reports strongly suggest that it was not raining in or around the Los Angeles area at the time of the attack.

When we get going

Forget 2016. It’s gone. Done. C’est fini. A dead parrot. It’s 2017 now and things are going to change around here. For starters, we won’t be taking any grumbling from any of you lot. It’s time to knuckle down and get a move, especially you at the back. I can see you. Heads down, we’re going to power on through this. We need a serious focus on hard work and productivity in 2017 if we’re going to get anywhere. Mark my words. Before we get to that, however, someone put the kettle on for a cup of tea. Some biscuits would be a good idea too. A slice of cake would be grand if you have it. Anything besides carrots cake and then we’ll get to business. Of course, a nap wouldn’t be the worst idea. So that we’re all refreshed for when we get going.

Following the  indulgences of Christmas, it’s been a serious few weeks as I’ve been fitting into my new job and trying to get back into a healthy and productive rhythm once again. Marking the advent of a New Year, I recently  transferred from to .org  and one of the more playful differences between the two services is the ability to install a heap of plug-ins. These range from the productive and entertaining to the useless and annoying, so it’s taken me some time to figure out exactly what is and isn’t possible.

Thinking about time and how we move through life has been somewhat of a distraction of mine for the last several years and when the weather improves, I plan to take updated pictures of the historical locations I found in a published collection of old photographs of my neighbourhood (Chiswick Through Time, Carolyn & Peter Hammond). I had played with the idea of this quite trivial project a few months ago, but I was so busy with job and general life business that I never got round to embarking on the venture proper. I also couldn’t use the very handy image slider plug-in on my old plan. The plan, therefore, is to jump right into that as soon as the weather improves.

The below image is a mock-up of what I’m looking to do. I took this image as a test last summer:

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.

I was not designed to make you laugh

In a recent post I discussed wanting to make a change to my life and, sure enough , I went and took the plunge. I no longer work with VICE News (the three hour daily commute was steadily eroding my will to live.) but have instead taken a post with the BBC. Since I was a kid, it’s been my dream and ambition to work at the BBC and now I can tick that one off the list. So I’ve got that going for me, which is nice. I remember well writing a post about my disappoinment at the closure of Television Centre, a few years on, however, things are starting to look a whole lot better. Although the old grounds are literally a building site at the moment, I’m told that three of the building’s historic studios are being refurbished and should be up and running again by 2018. Things are going to get very exciting.

Secondly, this adjustment should allow me the time to pursue more fruitful avenues. I have a stack of books to get through and also have a long-form post, more in keeping with the old spirit of this blog, in mind. I will most probably also be transferring this site onto in the new year (I’m not chancing anything else in 2016). This shouldn’t alter how the blog works, but will it certainly allow me to experiment a little more.

I still have a few photos that I took while working around Old Street and deliver them here for you.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.



To hold the world in the palm of your hand

WordPress tells me that I have now used up the entire 3Gb of storage offered on my plan. This means that if I wish to continue maintaining this site then I’m going to have to make a decision on what to do next. I can either fork out for a premium plan or transfer everything onto a domain. Either choice will mean having to spend money that I don’t have at the moment, for now, I guess I will just have to hold off on posting – or really make an effort to curate and clear out my media library of any pictures/media that I don’t use. I’ve said this many times before, but I really need to start writing with greater frequency. Perhaps limiting how many images I post will force me to put down the camera and pick up the pen a little more.

I have a few pictures that I was able to take yesterday as I was doing some overtime at the office. Enjoy.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.



Only little people pay tax

It’s been somewhat of an eventful time as of late, culminating in an appointment and discussion with my neurologist about how we would move forward with a treatment plan for my Multiple Sclerosis. When he commended my level headedness through the process so far – from my initial bout with a sixth annular nerve palsy and speculative diagnosis two years ago, to the confirmatory case of optic neuritis I experienced earlier this year and the subsequent decision being made that I will require life-long treatment – my only thought was, “What other choice do I have?” I told him just that, prompting a repeat of his applause for my reticence in the face of what is becoming  an increasingly unsavoury reality.

In truth, my only real concern is the possibility of side-effects to the medication and how these might stunt or impede my ability to do the things I most enjoy; music, reading, cooking, writing, running, working. Of course, there is nothing to be gained by  worrying about such possibilities before absolutely necessary, and even then worry is sure to only hinder any sort of productive outcome to the matter. The whole affair put me in mind of the conclusion to Isaiah Berlin’s essay on the originality of Machiavelli in which Berlin contemplates that, “To know the worst is not always to be liberated from its consequences; nevertheless it is preferable to ignorance.” There are many bad things that could happen, regardless of my feelings on the case. Until the nasty bits reveal themselves, I have better things to be getting on with.

I had some free time after my appointment, and before I headed back to the office, I was able to snap some of the interesting street art around Shoreditch.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.



Mistress May won’t take a nay

I posted yesterday, but since my new job is taking up nearly every moment of my day, I’ve decided to make a point of posting whenever I have even so much as a spare second. Even now I’m juggling this post with dinner in the oven, a blocked kitchen sink, and a stack of laundry to get through.

As I was heading back from lunch this afternoon, I jumped into an alley with the hope that I’d found a short cut back to the office.  Of course, I was wrong. However, I do seem to have happened upon what looks to be a strong successor to the place that pretty much sparked my interest in London Street art (Stuckey Place in Camden, or as those familiar with this blog may know it, “Shit Alley”). While I had the time, I took my phone and snapped as much of the work on display as I could manage. I would stay and write some more, but I’m exhausted and I think I can smell dinner burning. Enjoy and tell me what you think:

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.



Getting back into the groove

After a short time away, your faithful corespondent is back at his blog. To be honest, it’s been a long month and I’ve barely had a moment to myself since September. All I have to show for myself as far as photography goes is a picture that I took a fortnight ago and that I’m using as the Featured Image of this post, it’s a terrible shot but I’ve been rather occupied these past few weeks. I left my old job in the last week of September and after a weekend break, I started my new job on the following Monday. As if that wasn’t hard going enough, in my first fortnight of the new job, I had two of my brothers visit London at the same time. If you know much about the Irish, you will know that when one of us finally reunites with a brother not seen in years, there’ll be a fine fit of stout drinking going on to mark the occasion. As soon as they went home, I was not far behind as I was asked to be the godfather for my brother’s first son.  There was drinking and merriment that week as well, I can tell you. Add to that a thousand other things I’ve had to do and the horrible illness I caught from sheer exhaustion, I just haven’t had the time to sit down and write, or think about anything.

In one interesting turn of events, a video I filmed earlier this year and posted to this blog looks to have found itself some attention online. It currently has around 300,000 views on Youtube, which is very peculiar to me. Here’s a repost of the video for anyone who missed it the first time:

I’m looking to make a few changes in my life that will allow more time to write more essays, articles, short stories, etc. as I’ve been told that it might be a good area for me to pursue. We’ll see about that. I already feel like I’m juggling a dozen balls and I’m not sure if throwing a few more into the mix will do me any good.

Just before the Brexit referendum took place earlier this year, some of you may remember that I conducted a poll on my visitors to see if they could guess what the outcome would be. On that particular occasion, we got it wrong. We have a pool going on in the office about the US election and think that perhaps I will give another poll a try.

Who will win the US presidential election? Not who you would like to win, or who you will vote for, but who do you think will win?


How are ya getting’ on?

A lot has been going on since my lachrymose little article from last week. At the time, I was rather on the despondent side, fearing I would no longer have time or opportunity to hunt-down and photograph London’s ever-changing street art offerings. As it happens,  my sorrows were somewhat unfounded as I started a new job in East London’s Shoreditch area this week. Shoreditch is the centre of London’s street art scene, so I won’t be giving up on the photographing just yet. I took a few photos yesterday and would have uploaded sooner, but my new job is in television news and I have barely had a minute to spare all week. Herself is currently visiting family in Greece, so I have a small amount of time – on this uncharacteristally warm October afternoon – to drop-in and tell you the craic.

The story may be a few months old, but this week I learned that the BBC plans to install a  statue of George Orwell at their London headquarters. This story is particularly amusing, of course, because Orwell was incredibly dismissive of the Beeb, describing his time there as, “2 wasted years.” Frequent visitors to this site will know well that I am fanatical about Orwell’s work, and, as I happened upon the story, I was immediately put in mind of the writer’s description of the BBC as ‘something half way between a girls’ school and a lunatic asylum.’

For anyone interested and living in the US, the show I’m working on, VICE News Tonight, premiers Monday on HBO at 7:30 p.m EST.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.

Blogging is great craic altogether

One of the satisfying upsides to having a blog is that you get to share the cool stuff that’s going on in your life with the world.

I caught up with an old friend recently.  Richard Needham is his name and his family were my next door neighbours when I was growing up in the West of Ireland. We still see each other from time to time, and, while I’m not too keen on gossip, I like to hear how people are getting on in life. Like myself, he lives in London, working as a professional photographer. Besides his professional work, for a few years now he has been capturing his various travels and experiences on film. I saw some of his pictures and just had to ask if I could share his labours with you all. He was happy to oblige and sent me a few samples of work . A more substantial portfolio can be found on Flickr and Instagram.

Be genuine with questionable haircuts

As my stretch of employment in Camden Town comes to a close, I can’t help but get a little reflective about my time spent here. When I first started working in this famously rowdy district three years ago it would be fair to say that I was far from keen on the area, however, as I’ve gotten to know more about this odd little corner of North London, I’ve also grown a sincere affection for the place. In truth, a great part of me will miss the hoards of tourists who swamp the high-street with their selfie-sticks and questionable haircuts on a daily basis; watching the drunken fights on the canal; the smell of stale beer, piss and vomit in the streets on the way to work in the morning; the entirely overpriced and tat filled markets – which (admittedly) came in handy when I had to find a birthday present on the quick. Most of all, I will miss the incredible creativity that I’ve seen here, in particular, the hundreds of street art pieces and murals that I’ve had the pleasure and privilege to discover and photograph.

I should probaly have spent this afternoon searching for a new job, but instead I took an hour to see if I could find any new works around town, and sure enough I wasn’t disappointed. As I was photographing the last piece in the gallery below, I happened upon a group of artists working on a mural in the Ferdinand Housing Estate. I told them that it looked to be coming along fantastically and that I couldn’t wait to see the finished piece. Thinking about it now, I probably won’t get an opportunity to see how it turns out. A saddening thought.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.


Nobody cares about the bronze or silver medals – Buzz Aldrin

It looks like this site won a bronze award at this year’s Blog Awards Ireland. I’m not particularly sure what this means for the blog and there was no talk of any kind of cash prize, so I guess it’s a case of just ploughing on. I am, of course, very grateful to everyone who voted for this blog and look forward to the fun times ahead.

Also, I’m happy to say that Critical Dispatches has now officially passed 20,000 subscribers, which is around the average attendance of a Philippine Basketball Association game – a bit of takeaway trivia for you.


You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.



I will be leaving my job in Camden in a few weeks, and, as a result,  I see significantly less street art featuring on this site in future – a great shame. Until then, I’m trying to photograph as much new work as possible. We’re experiencing somewhat of a “heatwave” in London at the moment (if you can imagine such a thing), so I jumped at the chance to take a walk around the neighbourhood to see what I could find on my lunch-break. I hope you enjoy.

You can now follow my adventures on Instagram here.