Richard Hogan: 'He obviously has a tiny mickey' — the best and worst social-media comments I've gotten

Richard Hogan. Photograph Moya Nolan

I have been writing this column for nearly seven years. It is one of the great privileges in my life. 

After seven long summers and the breath of seven cold winters, I have finally run out of things to say. 

So, in the spirit of one of my favourite poets; having sought a theme for days, desperately watching as the sands of creativity flowed through my fingers - I have decided I am going to enumerate old themes. 

Ah, listen, enough drama. They do the same thing in ‘Friends’. When they run out of ideas, they show a ‘best bits clip’. 

However, I’m not that interested in a best bits type of vibe, I’m more of a worst bits kind of guy. 

Writing publicly can be a brutal sport. A modern-day gladiatorial contest. 

You put yourself out there, squeeze your universe into a ball and tentatively put it on display for all to see and then, like that old man on his bloody boat waiting for marlin to nibble, you wait, the line taut, then it rattles. 

The public are responding. And oh boy, do they respond. 

Evisceration row. Sometimes the public can be a little mean! 

The comments can leave your face burning and your eye weeping as if a twig had lashed across it open. 

You need a thick skin in this game. So, sit back and let me take you on a little journey through some of the funniest and most hurtful comments I have received writing this column.

'PIN-UP PSYCHOTHERAPIST'

Last year I wrote a book called Home is Where the Start Is. 

In that book, I talked about my own experience growing up with addiction in my family, the Irish Examiner published an extract from it, and one reader responded, “Who cares, we’ve all had it hard in life, yet we don’t need to do a tell-all and probably get well paid for it”. 

Another person commented, “The 'blame everything on your parents' school of thought”.

Last week, I wrote an article thanking all the volunteers of GAA clubs across the country, who do such extraordinary work. There’s no way I could garner any negativity from that positive article, right? 

I was wrong. I started to realise things might not go well for the piece when someone said, “This article won’t go down well with the haters”. 

Huh? I thought, how could anyone take offence to an article thanking people for their time and effort with children? Oh you naïve fool! 

One person was annoyed I hadn’t included all other activities children do, “That’s not very inclusive of all the other different activities and interests going on in different communities”.

I had rattled the bush of discontent, and so the comments rolled. “So do volunteers in all other sports, that doesn’t make the GAA special and he really needs to take his rose-tinted glasses off”. 

The final comment gave me a little chuckle, “Pin-up psychotherapist promoting himself, unfortunately”. 

I have requested that friends and family refer to me as a pin-up psychotherapist or ‘Pup’, as my sister-in-law suggested, from now on.

'...AND THE HORSE YOU RODE IN ON'

One comment which has caused me some distress is one I received about an article I wrote on Andrew Tate. 

I was basically warning parents about his influence on teenage boys and telling them how to talk to their teenagers about his views on women. 

One person commented, “He obviously has a tiny mickey”. The target of the comment obfuscated by ambiguity, and hence my distress. 

I hope they were referencing Andrew, but one never knows. My wife has assured me she hasn’t spoken to anyone. 

Another person advised, “Go home Hogan. You are a drunk”. Advice I could have done with many times in my twenties. 

“Richard Hogan is a Nancy”. And a bloody proud one at that! 

During the covid crisis, I could see how those who didn’t get vaccinated were being vilified in the media and wrote an article saying we shouldn’t vilify people for their decision not to take the vaccine. 

It caused a good bit of a stir. “I read a little of this BS and then got bored, F you and the horse you rode in on”. Off I clopped. 

One comment that kept me warm was, “Why do the protected need to be protected from the unprotected by coercing the unprotected to use the protection that didn’t protect the protected in the first place”. Well played, sir. 

I wrote an article celebrating the magic of Santa last year: “Perhaps it’s time in the 20th century to stop misleading children with blatant Christian propaganda and lies, just saying”. Eh, it’s the 21st century! Just saying.

Writing publicly is a wonderful privilege, but it should come with a warning. Some people may not like what you have to say. But the great gift of democracy is freedom of expression. 

If you’re willing to put your head up over the parapet, you better be ready for the incoming assault. Thank you for reading over the last seven years. Thanks for all the comments; the good, the bad and the ugly ones.