Je suis Paris

I have so many thoughts and feelings after what happened in Paris yesterday. Some are complicated, some are simple. I loved visiting Paris last month, and felt a real sense of the place as a community with personality in its own right.

All I can repeat is what I always repeat. Call your friends. Hold your family. But tomorrow, go out and play. The higher the terror, the greater the perceived threat, the less we should be afraid. When I was looking at a job in Beirut, I read a testimonial from a local young professional who claimed that life in Beirut was much like any other city. They work, they sleep, but in the hours between they make the effort to embrace life, to make art, and to see each other. They never let friends or family go without knowing how they feel about each other, and never put off an ambition.

Sometimes there’s a bomb. Sometimes there’s a gun. Sometimes someone dies, and that hurts, but something about it hurts a little less, or a little long, because at least before passing they knew how you felt, and lived life fully.

And here’s the bit where I talk about generics again..

See this?


It’s a Twitter share button. I don’t know why I’ve never incorporated one before, but I’ve just spent the better part on an hour proliferating them all over NickSheridan.com and CrapLookingBooks.com.


Look! There it is again.

I would have set about this yesterday, but after a storming Eluveitie gig on Thursday night, I was ridiculously hungover for Friday’s duration. And this… bothers me. I’m 31, work a full time day job, and all of my craft/passion involves having my brain in a fairly workable and unpoisoned state. The plan for Friday was to clear the schedule for the next few weeks by getting all the share buttons and advertising and comment codes out of the way so the rest of the month is clear for just The Wrong Ghost and friends.

One of the right kind of late night and I should be back on top of this.

It really is refreshing to have just one thing to do, and that’s the kind of seizing the day I can get behind.