Martin O'Leary
@strangetea
London based filmmaker working on folk horror, weird shit, punk sci-fi satire and stuff that exudes a cosmic darkness. Progressive humane human. Obsessed with phantasmagoria, perpetually dreich. Sometimes a numpty, always the odd one out. He/him.
Saw this outside a school in true blue Tory suburbia. The kids are alright.
He’s already halfway to being a Starmer clone, if this unfortunate photo is anything to go by. Even his hair is looking a bit Kier-y. Also, doesn't he look tired...
About to enjoy a little bit of late afternoon reading, courtesy of the esteemed @ourflagmeansbeth.bsky.social
From a fortune cookie I cracked open over a decade ago. It was true then and it is true now. If there is such a thing as signs and portents then I know what this one was telling me.
Of course you fucking don’t. My industry hates the idea of employing people.
Why do we need AI when a film this perfect was marketed with a PAINTED image as brilliant as this exists in cinema history? There truly is a beauty in analogue filmmaking that we are losing in this digital era.
Besides a few work related phone calls where I managed a pretence of professionalism, I’ve been utterly useless today. I’ve eaten poorly, I’ve overslept to the point of waking up feeling tired and I’ve frequently found myself dwelling on everything we’ve just lost. Amazing the impact she made.
I could go on and on but probaly best for all our sakes I shut up now. I'll end it with this photo. It's not the best but it is the first. Here I am at the Dogs Trust, 7th February 2014. Meeting Minda for the first time. Shortly after this, she came home with us.
Then, she comidically pojed her head out from behind a car and came slouching over towards me all full of guilt and contrition, with a well I know I just fucked up kind of gait. I clipped her back on to her lead and took her home. I never took her off the lead ever again after that.
I saw her racing down the middle of the road, heading towards an even busier road. Racing on, sticks shooting out of my bag in all different directions, I started to panic. I was sure she was about to get hit by a car. I got to the road and couldn't see her anywhere...
I took her to the place where we'd normally let her off the leash and... let her off the leash. She took one look at me and BELTED OFF in the opposite direction, running back towards home. I took after her in my wellies, the bag of sticks flying everywhere.
One time I took her on my own to the park. It was muddy, so I had my wellington boots on. I collected some sticks to throw for her but becuase I may be a little bit on the spectrum I pretty soon had a large bundle of sticks protruding from my shoulder bag...
She only had two speeds, sleep and zoom. But she was photogenic as hell and I adored her.
More than once I would end up being dragged in to the bush with her before I had a chance to realise what was going on.
She was devious. She knew she wouldn't be allowed to eat that half eaten pizza she sniffed out in a bush so she would very casually and calmly trot towards it when on her leash before surging forwards to grab it before I could react. For a little dog she was impressivily strong when she wanted to be
I've never known a dog who would throw themselves down on the floor with such a theatrical, exaggerated sigh like she would if she didn't get ger own way. She really was her own special kind of creature.
At one point she developed a weird fetish for my father's underwear. She would attempt to steal them off the airer. She reasoned if she moved really slowly, we wouldn't see what she was doing.
She was a character. Equal parts stupid and weirdly intelligent, the funniest thing was when she tried to communicate her needs to us by trying to immitate human speech. I've never heard a dog make a sound like that before and I spent the next five minutes lying on the floor helpless with laughter.
She was a rescue from Ireland. She'd been mistreated but she found a good home with us. She never wanted for anything and we spoiled her rotten. We're not sure how old she was but they told us she was around 6 back when we got her in 2015. 17 or so is a good age for a dog. She did well.
Good night, sweetheart. You were a diva, a devil, a crafty little monster at times but I never knew a dog who was a comically dramatic as you. You demanded constant attention and you made sure you got it. You made me laugh and you enriched our lives immeasurably. I am bereft without you. Sleep well.
You could be a little less on the nose with your signs and portents, cosmos.
Quote with your vibe if you were a vampire. A deep cut and an obvious choice. Answers in the alt text...
All of this because I said that Biden was, and still is, a Republican at heart. It was in response to a post rightfully attacking Biden for doing fuck all to stop Trump 2.0. BlueMAGA would rather attack the progressives than the far right. Maniacs.