UPDATE (4/3/18): niallosullivan.co.uk is back! I did just what I said I would do and grabbed the content, learned some code and put it all back up. You can read more here.

If you have just been diverted from niallosullivan.co.uk, you might be a little confused. That’s okay, I am too!

The bad news is that all of my posts and my ability to make them have been blitzed from my site. I won’t go into the nitty-gritty, I’ll just say that I’m okay about it. This is an obstacle, not a disaster. I only found out when I decided to read out a poem at the end of Unplugged and thought it would be a good idea to read one of the new prose poems from my website. I then found out that about nine years of work had disappeared in front of a small but appreciative audience.

The good news is that I have been able to find everything that was on the website via cached pages in Google, the Internet Archive’s Wayback Machine and my own draft copies. That ultimate cautionary term of the 21st Century really is true: Nothing really dies on the internet.

It just so happens that my New Year’s Resolution was to learn how to code, so this whole clusterfudge has presented itself as an opportunity. My aim was to build a simple, clean new website for my content. It won’t be reliant on Wordpress software or the plugins that come with it.

So, sometime in the near future, my best posts will reappear and remain by the grace of my novice coding skills. One or two might not make the cut, mainly the humble brags and the not-so-humble brags.

I confess that I even dallied with the idea of letting the site and content die a quiet death, to start it all again from scratch or to find a new direction in my middle age. But then I thought, “Nah!” So what if my website continues as a digital mausoleum of my once-promising career?

In the meantime, I might just keep posting new posts on this Medium thingy. Maybe I’ll post them somewhere else. Who knows, as I have been reminded this week - nothing is permanent and nothing is certain. As a father of two little girls I have enough stress on my plate. Who cares when my carefully chosen words are scattered by a binary breeze?