A traditional, hearty, Irish stew. Unable to drink in my beloved Skehan’s during coronavirus quarantine, I learned various 3D disciplines to recreate its taste and texture in VR. A cross between that scene in Ratatouille, where the critic takes a solitary bite of his meal and finds himself transported, away from the misery of today, towards leaving his most cherished memories as if they were fresh and anew, and Rupert Pupkin’s nightmare cardboard cut-out basement TV studio.

For WIRED.

I spent two weeks attempting to overcome my republicanism by attending every funereal mourning ceremony for Her Maj Queen Elizabeth II (R.I.P) that I could.

For Rolling Stone.

A nutritious truckstop snack. I drove the breadth of the United States in American Truck Simulator, transcending the political bubble (and travel restrictions) to interview the Americans I encountered about the issues that mattered to them as they drove around the long, lonely roads of a virtual representation of their home.

For WIRED.

Fusion dish. Piping hot wish-fulfilment paired with a cold dose of reality. Football Manager’s scouts brutally assessed our office kickabout and added us as players within their database, to see how our idle daydreams would likely fare in the Premier League.

For Shortlist.

Mouthwatering taster menu of 16 fresh concepts for original TV shows that don’t yet exist but should (and will), based on the secret formula behind all TV and pitched to Channel 5 and MTV’s hungry-yet-discerning commissioning editors. Bon appetite.

For Shortlist.

I spent a month – blindly, incompetently, irrationally – investing in crypto-currency and accidentally made a load of profit, then lost it all as soon as I stopped treating it as a laugh, in doing so stumbling upon the recipe for the market’s future collapse.

For Shortlist.

The Stan Cross signature dish. A steaming hot longread on the eternal years of hurt spent supporting Wales, drizzled in lashings of sugary sentimentality for the first summer in living memory that they weren’t shit. A wildly patriotic account of the tournament, best enjoyed paired with a big swig of ill-advised hopefulness.

For VICE.

FULL TOURNAMENT EDITION
+5,000 extra gushing words

A five-course mini-essay meal attempting to critique various accepted axioms, ideas and frameworks that seem to dominate and dictate acceptable discussion of mental health.