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Here Be Problems: A Map of the Inside of My Brain

Only fallen women can eat the sweets off the floor. In a parallel universe our doppelgangers live in geodesic domes under the benevolent rule of the ottocracy, the kind-hearted otters with rocks in their armpits and a strong sense of fairness.

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I write about material culture, cultural politics, cultural wastelands, landscapes, stuff, things, doohickeys, gadgets, doodads and thingums. I write about things I see, read, hear or maybe smell. Once I had a problem that made me suffer from academia, a terrible affliction that was made manifest in me archaeologically, and I suppose once it gets under your skin, it’s there for life, and you just learn to manage it. Like malaria or herpes or 12-stepping. I’m better now. I’m a journalist because I don’t know any better.

I am also co-organiser of Chaos Thaoghaire, which you can visit here and you can follow us on twitter: @chaosthaoghaire.

Sometimes I write about stuff that I’ve found or junk that I’ve bought, and I’m not interested in selling it, although when I move next, I might be willing to part with some of it for the sake of lightening the load.

I am a sporadic blogger, and for that I am sorry.

Oh, and offensive or abusive comments will be removed. This is not a democracy, it’s a blogtatorship. I get into enough scraps in the real world that I’m pretty much all full up.

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