drop-IN Sessions

From late summer, we go in on change. Nothing changes if nothing changes, but does anything need to change, we could just stay put. Or do we all need to go full MJ in front of the mirror and make that change shamone.

Was everything better way back when, a time of beauty and longing and everything in its right place. Or is it the brain’s way of telling us right now is a bit crap. Do we sugarcoat the past.

Pride comes before a fall. They say pride is the worst of the deadly sins, but also what makes us proud, are we proud people, pride is surely something lofty, something to be proud of.

What if the answer to all our misery is a wagging tail and a Pedigree Chum subscription. How much can you really know about life without looking lovingly into the eyes of a Chihuahua.

Is monk-like asceticism all it’s cracked up to be. I get gunned on my attempts to walk the path of purity, a whole lot of filth comes out in the wash.

In today’s modern day interconnectedness of everything, has our attention span gone to shit. Can we focus on anything anymore, are we doomed forever, or should we just roll with it, own it, be all over the shop.

We go all in on memory. Do we remember what happened, what we want to, or what we need to. Who ever let truth get in the way of a good story.

What makes a man a real man. Does such a thing even exist. Is this all for the better, or are things getting so blurred we’re all cruising through the fog blissfully unaware of the pile-up ahead.  

We go in on hardship, the rocky moments, how do we manage when really hard stuff comes at us, when things really go south. When life gives you lemons, said someone once, you paint that shit gold.

The love-hate relationship of our lives, we talk through all things football, what it gives and what it takes away. How we wish we could care less, and yet when Saturday comes we start all over again.

What makes something authentic. What makes someone authentic. Can someone be authentically inauthentic. What is authenticity. Does it matter. Is the world a stage. What the hell is going on.

In a life of relative privilege we ask the question ‘what do we owe back’. To society at large. A march for Palestine, a direct debit to cancer research, or just a smile at the lady on the till. Or is it each to his own.

We go in on the idea of progenies. New Kids on the Block. Is this an evolutionary staple. Or something we should rearrange the game4.

Why does anybody devise to do anything, to put content out, to make a mark, we turn the searchlight back on us, why make a podcast at all. Are we just suckaz for validation..

In my time I’ve delved deep into the algorithm. Gets weird out there. Do I have goods to report back on, am I any the wiser. I could recommend some decent cat videos.

Is bigfoot real or just some hairy overweight dude who wants to be alone. Where mystery lurks mysterious theories abound, we go in off the deep end.

Is our existence a To Do List we tick off en route to the grave, or more like a rodeo of abject chaos we hang onto for dear life.

The far too middle-aged conundrum of where to spend our lives is upon us. The endless nights of the Smoke or the unending peace of the Stix.

When is it okay to lie. When is the truth seriously uncool. Does anyone really care as long as they go to keep their feelings in check.

We hash out the pros and cons of the internet through the medium of an online platform called Quora. Is the web a plus or more like the root of all evil.

Friendship, the one facet of human connection that hopefully doesn’t bust our balls. Which is why we like it. But what can we ask of it. Do we even need it.

Alfie goes in and quizzes me hard on what living with depression for the last two decades has felt like.

Smiling at a stranger in the street, the spice of life or grounds for a restraining order. Or the risk we have to take to change the world, maaake it a better plaaace.

How did it get so late so soon. We discuss the tricky cul de sac of our 40th year and wonder if it’s actually a blessing in disguise.  

An ode to the parentals, an analysis of their faults, a merciful olive branch to say thanks for making us after all. The gift of life can't be all bad.