A personal journal · since 2024
Photography, philosophy, software, and the occasional ill-advised experiment. Written from Northern Ireland, mostly while the rain holds off.
I’m Chris Cooney — a software engineer, speaker, amateur photographer, and a chronic overthinker. This is where I keep the things I make and the things I work out as I go. Some of it’s considered. Some of it isn’t. None of it is for sale.
On a small field in southern Italy, in August 216 BC, an eighty-thousand-strong Roman army was annihilated in a single afternoon. The reason, mostly, was that Rome had been arguing with itself.
On Albert Camus, his short novel about a man who refused to lie, and the cheerfullest piece of philosophy of the twentieth century.
Two of the twentieth century's celebrated philosophers spent ten minutes shouting at each other over a fireplace poker. Neither of them was wrong.
Mikhail Bulgakov spent twelve years writing a book the Soviet apparatus had no language for. He was right to.
What happens if you try to create Claude guardrails from Git logs? The agent already has the context it needs.
Spending months and a small fortune to grow spuds in order to test what an LLM can really teach a layman.
Guy Debord saw something coming. A note on a small, sharp book that has aged into something almost unbearably accurate.
A photographer who likes quiet places goes looking for it in cities, fails, and finds something better.
Standing in a field for hours waiting for a crow. Apparently this is what I am now.
A first attempt at the night sky, with all the rookie mistakes intact and on show.
Walking a flat road towards a flat sea, with Binevenagh looming and the train going the other way.
The aurora over Northern Ireland, settings, mistakes, and a brief encounter with the Overview Effect.
About this place
I work in software, mostly on observability — the part of the trade concerned with watching production carefully so it doesn’t bite you. I speak at conferences, I write code, and I read more books than I can afford bookshelves for.
Outside that, I take photographs. Birds, weather, mountains, cities. I write about whichever of those leaves a mark, and I try to keep the writing as honest as I can manage.
The plan, such as it is, is to keep adding to this until the rate of new ideas equals the rate of forgetting them. I’ll let you know how that goes.
Reviews of this blog
“Pics are very nice. Text however, is despair-inducing gash.”
— A guy on the Northern Ireland subreddit