Now, it’s all social media all the time. At the end of the day, what do I have to show for it? Am I more enriched as a human being after a couple of hours spent on Facebook? More fulfilled from Pinterest? A deeper person from Instagram?
Maybe, but probably not.
As a teen, I enjoyed sending handmade cards to faraway friends. I spent hours meticulously cutting and glueing together pieces of card stock, usually without the faintest idea of what to make or write, until I produced something to my liking. I let my hands do the thinking. When I graduated from high school and went off to college, so did I from cardmaking.
A recent lengthy e-mail correspondence reminded me of how it was once not uncommon for me to write such letters, and the delight of doing so. It also made me question the way I currently interact with people in the digital world, something that’s already been on my mind as I recalibrate my priorities in life.
Over the past few months, I’ve removed most “unnecessary” apps from my devices. I stopped idling on Google Chat, AIM, and IRC—the latter two being services I’d used almost daily for 15 years—and have been refreshing my inbox less often. A handful of objectively unnecessary apps survived the purge though, including Facebook and Twitter.
In my effort to decrease time spent on social media, I’ve found that I use it more selfishly. These days I only open social apps when I have something to share, which feels uncomfortably narcissistic. The immediate praise that comes in the form of likes and faves can tempt even those who don’t care for it.
My ability to live in the moment and enjoy everyday life is also diminished, since I tend to snap photos and fumble with my phone instead of enjoying what’s at hand. Nick Bilton’s 2012 New Year’s Resolution comes to mind, and resonates with me now more than ever. I do love taking photos though—I’ve just come to appreciate that an unshared photo is a more meaningful one.
Don’t get me wrong—I prefer to stay in touch with friends and keep apprised of their lives. But I miss the richness that our interactions once had, and would much rather catch up with someone face-to-face or at least through a true correspondence, rather than peek at their life through the distorted lens of social media posts.
The time and energy I spend streaming disjointed snippets of consciousness to social media would undoubtedly be better spent writing and sharing more cohesive written works. And there are better, private platforms for journaling, which is primarily what I use social media for.
So today my Facebook and Twitter apps join the purge, replaced by trusty pencil and notebook paper. If you notice me less on social media (as I hope you will), know that I’m still around, and eagerly await and welcome your letters. Or a bicycle ride, walk in the park, and even just reading beside one another—anything but a tweet.
As the name of my blog suggests, I have a love/hate relationship with writing.
I’ve never been able to sit myself down and make the words flow. Almost all of my writing—be it a blog post, 4chan news post, or important e-mail—comes together in bits and pieces over the course of days, weeks, and sometimes months.
I do my best thinking—and thus writing—while walking, right before falling asleep, and in the shower. It’s not uncommon for me to dart out of the bathroom sopping wet to jot down some thoughts, and if you find me stumbling around on my phone in public, I’m probably frantically e-mailing myself notes before I forget them. All three places offer respite from the hustle and bustle of everyday life, and allow me to be inside my head and free of distraction.
After collecting scraps of writing and mulling them over, the piece comes together in a torrent of typing. What felt like an eternity now takes only minutes, like a pot of water transitioning from a gentle simmer to a rolling boil. I’m then left with something vaguely coherent, which leads to the best part: editing!
It takes me ten times longer to edit my writing than to actually write it. I’m fond of wordsmithing and find it to be the most pleasurable aspect of writing, but it’s also out of necessity. When you write for a large audience, as I do with 4chan, you learn to choose your words extremely carefully to ensure they’re only interpreted as intended. It’s not uncommon for problems to arise from a simple miswording or misunderstanding, so I strive to be clear and concise.
This writing process has treated me well enough over the years… except when it hasn’t. I struggle to meet writing deadlines, especially self-imposed ones, and at one point went more than four years without publishing a 4chan news post. I remained silent as the site grew and changed dramatically—not because I wanted to, but because the words wouldn’t come to me.
Writing is a skill I hope to cultivate over my lifetime. The ability to communicate clearly is an incredible asset, and expressing oneself through writing reveals things that thoughts alone often cannot. And as an extremely visual and spatial thinker, making my thoughts tangible gives them more meaning.
As with everything, practice is necessary for improvement, which is why I took up blogging. I’ve also been paying closer attention to the prose of authors I admire. Recent favorites include Antoine de Saint-Exupéry’s Wind, Sand and Stars, and Maciej Cegłowski’s travel writing. Emulating another author’s writing style is a mistake since finding your own voice is critical, but expanding one’s repertoire does wonders for helping you craft that voice.
If you don’t write regularly, I’d strongly encourage you give it a try. I’ve found it especially therapeutic following the dissolution of my startup, but more generally it’s helped me better understand myself and share more with my friends, family, and the public.
Believe me—if I can do it, so can you. Good luck.
Today I’m embarking on my first solo trip. I frequently travel “alone” for work and leisure, but always with an event or friends at the destination. This trip is different because there’s nobody I’m meeting on the other side, nor much of a plan other than “show up.”
I normally dread doing activities like dining out and seeing movies alone, but usually find that it can be quite pleasant and often preferable to do so.
I’m also traveling without my laptop—another first. In keeping with my goal of not spending leisure time on the computer, I’m leaving it behind in favor of an iPad and Kindle with which I hope to accomplish lots of reading and writing.
Regardless of whether or not I love it or hate it, I’ll learn something new about myself. And that’s all that really matters.
When I was sixteen, I was arrested for dropping water balloons onto passing cars from the roof of an apartment building.
It is easily the best worst thing that’s happened to me.
To set the scene prior to my arrest: I was overweight bordering on obese, drank two liters of cola every day, spent a good 6-12 hours per day playing video games in a bedroom with blacked-out windows, and rarely went outdoors or socialized.
The court-mandated community service got me outside and active. I took my first summer job and decided to clean up my diet and start exercising. I lost 70 pounds in the years that followed, became more sociable and came to enjoy time away from my computer. Staying out of trouble was a condition of the dismissal, and to date I’ve never done any illegal drugs or smoked cigarettes, and avoided drinking until my mid-twenties. Nor have I had any run-ins with the law since, aside from this amusing testimony given in 2010.
Every now and then, we’re presented with opportunities to dramatically alter our path in life. I think of them as branching points.
ROFLCon 2008 is probably one of the best best things to have happened to me. Before attending the conference—a meeting of the minds for those interested in then-nascent “Internet culture”—I had zero friends involved in building websites and communities. I was struggling through my second year of college, and felt bored and isolated in Richmond, Virginia.
At ROFLCon I was introduced to dozens of people who shared my enthusiasm for our corner of the Web. I was more stimulated in those three days than I’d been in years, and soaked up the excitement and curiosity that permeated the event. I spent the following week couchsurfing around Cambridge and auditing classes at Harvard and MIT, and returned to Richmond just long enough to pack up my belongings and move to Cambridge. That summer, 4chan was unveiled to the mainstream public via profiles in TIME and The Wall Street Journal, and my life took a new course. Although I ultimately moved home to New York, I look back at that summer as one of my most formative, and still count many of the friendships born out of ROFLCon as my closest.
Sometimes I wonder about how my life would be different had I made one decision versus another, but I firmly believe in having no regrets about the past. So long as you’re happy with the present, there’s nothing to regret about the past. And if you’re not happy with the present, feeling regret won’t change it. The future is set by looking forward, not backward, and learning from the past while refusing to be hamstrung by it.
As we enter the second half of 2014, I can’t help but to feel that I’m in the middle of my latest branching point. People generally underestimate how much they’ll change in the coming years, but I can safely say I’ve changed more in the past few months than I have in the past five years. Not in terms of the core of who I am, but in how I interact with the world and what I want out of life. In retrospect, maybe the failure of my startup is the second-best worst thing to have happened to me.
We don’t usually get to decide when these opportunities present themselves or what form they’ll take, but we can keep an open mind and be ready to embrace them. I’m certainly glad I did, and hope I’ll continue to do so.
Everybody deserves a safe place to relax and reflect—their own “happy place.”
My happy place this weekend was a community garden in Northern California. At home in New York, it’s cycling along the Hudson River at dusk. As a lifelong urban dweller, I’m increasingly finding them in nature.
I’m glad to have found my own places to unwind and think, and am touched when others share theirs with me. Feel free to reblog and share your own!
One of my most cherished possessions is my father’s old film camera. It’s not particularly rare or valuable, but the cycling of its shutter captured my first moments of life and childhood, and has been in our family just shy of thirty years.
My phone alone contains more than 10,000 photos. Its storage capacity often teeters on full, so I find myself regularly going through them to weed out duplicates and free up space. It’s a little annoying, but I love it.
Scrolling through an album that spans seven years of your life is akin to time travel. Last night I only made it a fews years back, but was overwhelmed by memories of relationships, work, and travel. It also reminded me how lucky I am to have been afforded such great friendships and opportunities in life.
I take so many photos because they invoke a strong memory recall for me—especially pictures of food (yes, I’m one of those people). I can usually remember who I was with, where we were, what we talked about, and how I was feeling. It all comes flooding back in rich vignettes.
I love images in general because they transcend most cultural and language barriers, and their meaning can be grokked within seconds. Most everyone on Earth can relate to a photo, which explains why image-sharing sites like 4chan have become so popular over the years.
Photos remind us where we’ve been, but also where we’re headed. I look forward to discovering what my next 10,000 exposures will capture.
PS: Here are two photos from that old film camera. The first is of me, taken by my father around 1989. The second was taken by me on a trip to Nicaragua in 2005. It’s built like a tank and still functions flawlessly.
Productivity and leisure time
I am a supreme procrastinator.
I also don’t spend my leisure time wisely. Stick me in front of a computer with an internet connection, and I’ll amaze you with my ability to make time evaporate with little or nothing to show for it.
Suffice it to say, it really bothers me. As someone who doesn’t believe in an afterlife, I feel I owe it to myself to spend what little time I have being happy, healthy, and surrounded by people I love. Squandering that finite time doesn’t sit well with me.
So I made the following chart for myself. I feel ridiculous sharing it, but I hope it’ll keep me accountable and maybe help someone else in the process.
It’s comprised of two parts: a list of “approved” daily physical and non-physical activities that represent productive ways of spending time, and a flowchart to help knock myself out of time-wasting mode. The latter reminds me of John Boyd’s OODA loop (observe, orient, decide, act).
For example, yesterday evening I found myself anxious at my computer with little to work on, so I grabbed a book and walked to a nearby park to read. Later I saw a movie and went to a friend’s show, and read a little more before falling asleep. A few weeks ago, I probably would have been tempted to spend the entire night on my computer.
Aside from using the chart to promote healthy living, I’m also trying to break bad habits. One being that I waste too much time noodling on my phone while walking (and in general). I once joked to a friend that “push notifications are worse than smoking.” It may sound absurd, but you’re essentially burning the candle from the other end—with smoking you’re reducing your overall lifespan, whereas checking frivolous messages on your phone is just inching yourself closer to death with minimal benefit.
My overall goal is to become more productive during my working hours, and when not working, only partaking in activities that enrich my life. That means minimizing wasted time, and ideally reducing my leisure time spent on a computer to near zero.
We’ll see how long I stick with it, but I’ve already accomplished more in the past few weeks than I usually would in a month. It’s exciting to feel at the reins again.
In addition to personal growth, I’ve been reflecting on my relationships—both platonic and romantic.
Drawing from my own (admittedly limited) experience dating, close friendships, and talking to friends in healthy relationships, the following are qualities I find myself seeking in others:
- Curious about themselves and the world around them. Cherishes new experiences, learning, and opportunities for personal growth.
- Honest, especially with themselves. Introspective and embraces perspectives other than their own. Open to reconsidering even firmly held beliefs.
- Challenges you intellectually and otherwise. This doesn’t mean non-stop debate, but someone whose opinions you respect and are receptive to.
- Inspires others, and helps them explore their potential. They’ll support you when you stumble, but won’t coddle you.
- Excellent communicator, both in terms of articulating themselves and not shying away from difficult conversations.
- Self-determined and confident. They aim to impress themselves—not others—and maintain humility.
- Can laugh and be laughed at. Doesn’t take themselves too seriously, and isn’t offended by a good light-hearted ribbing.
- A partner, not a sidekick. Desires companionship and the company of others, but is fundamentally independent and their own person.
- Last but not least, a person to do nothing with—someone you’re completely at ease and enjoy spending downtime with.
In a nutshell, the kind of people I keep close are those who bring out the best in me, and who I in turn bring out the best in. I don’t believe in the concept of “the one” with friends or dating, but I do believe there are people with whom you’re naturally compatible, and where your union represents a whole greater than the sum of its parts.
I’m lucky to be surrounded by so many amazing people already, grateful to them for allowing me to be a part of their lives, and will never stop searching for more.
I spent the holiday weekend with friends in a cabin in upstate New York. We tore down an old shed, cooked meals together, watched movies, and thoroughly enjoyed one another’s company. I went to bed with the sun and woke up to the sound of birds chirping and water flowing. I rarely checked my computer, and when I did it was brief and with purpose. It was easily one of the most enjoyable and memorable experiences I’ve had in a long time.
Since shutting down my company, I’ve pondered how I want to spend the next few years. What I want to learn, what I want to accomplish, and where I want to be.
As I said at the end of my XOXO Festival talk (18:36 for those who can’t bear to hear me drone), “learn all the things” has been my North Star in life. While 4chan hasn’t been financially rewarding, I’ve accumulated enough experiences, opportunities, and relationships to last a lifetime. My startup, while objectively a failure, was similarly rewarding. I wouldn’t trade either experience for anything.
That said, I can’t help but to feel that I spent the past four years neglecting myself. I took the “always be working” mantra to heart and spent many sleepless nights trying to figure out how to grow—not myself, but the company. That meant agonizing over daily App Annie e-mails and Google Analytics dashboards.
As the company wound down, I felt like I was drowning. For the first time in years, I was free to spend my time however I saw fit. I hated the thought of it—it felt like going from running 100 miles an hour to a dead halt. And so I did what any drowning person would: I grasped desperately at anything that might keep me afloat. That meant scheduling meetings back-to-back and exploring any and all employment opportunities. I quickly became busier than I was running a company, and burnt out within weeks.
It took a close friend to slap me back into reality and view the absence of a full-time job as a blessing and not a curse. To embrace it as an opportunity to recharge and make calculated decisions about my future instead of spontaneous ones. To focus on myself for the first time in nearly four years.
Another, much older friend challenged me to think about myself at 50. What would I be excited to tell my younger self about the life I’d led? I haven’t come up with a great answer, but I do know that it doesn’t involve wealth or material possessions—something I find incredibly liberating. I just want to be comfortable and happy.
To that end, I plan to spend the foreseeable future investing in and learning more about myself. I hope to spend more time away from the computer and doing activities I already enjoy like cycling and cooking, and learning new ones like dance and gardening. As someone who can be stubborn and stiff, I want to place myself in situations that force me outside of my comfort zone. I want to spend time with people different from myself, learn from them, and build strong relationships.
That said, I find doing great work to be extremely gratifying, and hope that when I return from this sabbatical of sorts that I’ll have a clearer sense of how to spend my time going forward. Everything is on the table, including and especially things not related to what has traditionally been my wheelhouse—the Web.
Every day, I’m reminded that there are important problems that can’t be solved with just 0s and 1s—so-called “hard” problems. I’m not qualified to solve them now, but that’s precisely the point of taking time to acquire new skills and learn more about the world I don’t already know. Or maybe I’ll just become a pilot, volunteer worker, or trail guide—who knows.
That’s what excites me the most: I don’t quite know what I’m looking for, but I can’t wait to find out.
When a bad day gets worse—getting hacked twice in one day
Waking up to a string of missed calls is rarely a harbinger of good, and this time would prove no different. Upon returning the calls I was greeted with a simple “You’ve been hacked.” Great.
It turned out someone with my username had spent the morning causing a ruckus on 4chan. At first other users and moderators assumed I’d been drinking—at 7:00AM no less—but quickly concluded it was the work an intruder.
I immediately hopped out of bed and onto a call with our developer and a moderator to establish a timeline of events, and set about digging through error logs. It didn’t take long to piece together what had happened.
First, the intruder was able to enumerate files on a domain hosting moderator tools. He used an off-the-shelf script, and had the benefit of having leaked source code in his possession to build a site-specific wordlist.
Mistake #1: No rate limiting or HTTP auth dialog was present on the domain.
Most of the enumerated files did him no good since they made use of a PHP auth check, but one file was different: instead of displaying an error message, it simply bounced him to our front page. He manually set a 4chan admin username cookie (the cookie name gleaned from the source code), and voila, he was no longer redirected.
Mistake #2: The PHP auth check for this particular file was broken.
The page in question was a once-off used to generate statistics about reported posts. “0 days” was displayed on the page, and he guessed it might be a query parameter. He was correct, and as it turned out this one parameter was vulnerable to SQL injection. After some more testing, he realized he was able to return information from our database using the error messages displayed.
Mistake #3: Unescaped SQL query, and not disabling MySQL errors in production.
Using the injection vulnerability, he was able to exfiltrate information from our backend database. Thankfully we have a record of all information accessed (thanks to those handy error messages being logged), and it appears he mostly poked around before settling on accessing moderator credentials. He took my username and password, set them in his cookies, confirmed they worked by visiting an admin panel on the main site, and began lurking.
Mistake #4: Boneheaded cookie auth—we simply stored the bcrypted password from the database in a cookie, which was all that was required to pass PHP auth.
After lurking for a few days, the intruder decided to make himself known by publicly shaming a user under my username. He later stated this was his motivation for gaining entry all along—to out a user he disliked. Using admin panels, he was also able to obtain and leak information about other users, as well as moderator names and IP addresses.
We quickly patched the vulnerability, forced a password reset for all moderator accounts, and have spent the past two weeks reviewing our code and servers to apply fixes and make improvements where possible.
The day didn’t end there though. This next bit concerns DrawQuest.
I loaded my e-mail for the first time that morning, and at the top of the list was a message from Amazon: “Unauthorized activity in your AWS account”
To make an already long story short, when leaving the company a few months ago, one of our developers asked to open source a project he had worked on. You can probably already guess where this is going, but suffice it to say he did so by flipping the existing repository to public.
Despite having overwritten our AWS keys, they were still available in the commit history and likely recovered by a bot. An intruder was able to use them to create an administrator account, giving them access to our AWS dashboard, and used it to spin up a hundred extra-large instances—probably for Bitcoin mining. They also would have had access to all of our S3 buckets, EC2 and RDS instances, DNS, etc.
Mistake #5: Not creating a fresh repo for a newly open sourced project, or at least scrubbing commit history.
Mistake #6: Using a highly-privileged key where a lesser-privileged one would have sufficed.
For DrawQuest, this was catastrophic. Despite our team going their separate ways a few months ago, we’d hoped to continue operating the app using the company’s remaining capital. However without any full-time employees left on staff, after the breach we felt the only responsible path forward was to shutter the service completely since we lack the time and resources to do a complete audit in order to ensure the integrity of our servers and Amazon account.
And so last night, with a lump in my throat, I announced that we’d be shutting down DrawQuest—a beloved drawing community that still boasted 100,000 monthly active users.
It was a long day to say the least.
On one hand I’m frustrated we made such simple mistakes that resulted in very real consequences, but also grateful that it provided us an opportunity to learn from those mistakes, and share them with the world.
There’s no silver bullet when it comes to security, and the only way to stay ahead of it is constant vigilance. Don’t rely on any one method to protect your service, assume the methods you already have in place don’t work, adhere to best practices, and make it a point to revisit security on a regular basis—not just when something goes terribly wrong.
To that end and in keeping with our ongoing commitment to security, I’m pleased to announce the launch of 4chan’s Vulnerability Disclosure Program. It’s my hope that by embracing responsible disclosure and providing an officially sanctioned way for security researchers to submit such reports, we’ll be in a better position to avoid or at least mitigate future incidents.
In the end, I accept full responsibility for both breaches. I wasn’t ever involved on the technical side for DrawQuest and don’t actively write code for 4chan any longer, but know it was ultimately my responsibility as founder and CEO to ensure the security of both. I’m very sorry to both communities that I failed in that capacity.
If I’ve learned anything from this experience, it’s that if you don’t treat security as a top priority, it will bite you. It’s not a matter of if—only when.
Reintroducing the 4chan Blog and Blotter
Long-time users will remember the late 4chan DevBlog and Blotter, which were removed almost five years ago due to infrequent use. We had used them to share updates with the community that didn’t require lengthy news posts.
Today I’m pleased to reintroduce both. As someone who hates writing and prefers to publish news posts only when absolutely necessary, I welcome their return. We’ll continue to use the global message (big red text at the top of boards) to communicate important notices, but will use the blog and blotter to share a running tally of smaller updates.
You may not realize it, but we’re constantly working behind the scenes to improve the site—be it feature additions, code tweaks, or improving moderation. It’s our hope to give the community more visibility into those improvements via a changelog of sorts.
The anonymity I know
Yesterday Sam Altman published a short post containing his thoughts on Secret, and also anonymity in general—namely that it breeds meanness, and that anonymous social networks are destined to decay and grow worse over time.
I strongly disagree. What I’ve observed is the opposite—that anonymity facilitates honest discourse, creates a level playing field for ideas to be heard, and enables creativity like none other.
"Anonymity" is itself a slippery term because people frequently use it to refer to everything that isn’t "real identity." Obviously identity is more nuanced than that (I prefer "prismatic”), but for some reason we choose to paint it in broad strokes comprised of two extremes. In the interest of simplicity, I’ll use anonymity to encompass the part of the spectrum that is not real identity, including pseudonymity and everything in between.
When I spoke at TED four years ago I concluded the talk with my concern that in the race to embrace social networking, anonymous communities were quickly going the way of the dinosaur, and that the world was on the verge of losing something incredibly valuable.
It’s an issue near and dear to me, as I’ve had the privilege of founding and presiding over one of the largest anonymous online communities—4chan—for more than a decade.
I was myself once ignorant of the benefits of anonymity. As a 15-year-old who spent his childhood and early teens hanging out in online chatrooms and forums, I wasn’t particularly drawn to the idea of anonymous contribution. When I encountered the inspiration for 4chan, a Japanese website called Futaba Channel, I found myself captivated by its unconventional imageboard format and how quickly content seemed to roll on and off the site—not its emphasis on anonymity and impermanence. Fascinated and frustrated by my inability to contribute (my Japanese is abysmal), I quickly translated the source code and threw it up for a few Internet friends to use.
The very things I overlooked as a teen quickly became the driving force behind the site, and are now deeply ingrained in its ethos as well as my own. Few communities have grown in size and come to influence mainstream culture as 4chan has, for as long as it has, and it is without a doubt the result of allowing people to interact without the burden of identity, and to share and explore new ideas together. For many, 4chan has become their “third place,” and provided a sanctuary away from the everyday stresses of home, school, and work life.
The combination of anonymity and ephemerality has fostered experimentation and creativity rarely seen elsewhere. It’s incredible what people can make when they’re able to fail publicly without fear, since not only will those failures not be attributed to them, but they’ll be washed away by a waterfall of new content. Only ideas that resonate with the broader community persist, creating the most ideal conditions for the production of viral content, which established 4chan as one of the Web’s earliest “meme factories.”
The conversation is “raw” to say the least—almost everyone checks their filter at the door. The resulting dialogue is about as honest as it gets. In lieu of traditional barriers to membership, the community uses cryptic and crude language to regulate who can and cannot participate. On the surface this may seem offensive, but it’s often meant to do little more than keep newcomers on their toes and encourage they lurk and learn the house rules before participating.
Few sites give their users a platform to share ideas quite like 4chan’s—a virtual Speakers’ Corner—where anyone can express their opinions on equal footing. Every person who creates a thread has that thread appear at the very top of the index, and no amount of karma or social capital can save it from the depths of irrelevance. It’s ideas, not reputations, that shine here.
4chan isn’t without its problems and is by no means a utopia, but in many ways provides an accurate representation of who we are: flawed, imperfect. I see beauty in that, and something worthy of continued exploration.
As someone who has spent their entire adult life educating the public about the benefits of anonymity and advocating for alternatives to “real identity,” I’m simultaneously excited and hesitant about what the next few months might bring.
Snapchat has changed the game. Its success has demonstrated that given the right offering, there is in fact mainstream demand for products that incorporate anonymity and ephemerality, and I’ve watched with bated breath as it’s kicked off renewed interest and debate over their merits.
It feels like we’re on the cusp of a fever pitch to explore this new—well, rediscovered—terrain, with entrepreneurs, investors, and journalists all lining up to understand and capitalize on the opportunities that await. I welcome these expeditions, but pray we will see people create thoughtful products that truly reimagine identity for the digital age rather than simply incorporating “anonymity” and “ephemerality” as marketing buzzwords.
It’s bound to be an interesting ride. Whatever may happen, I’m grateful to have a front row seat.
I shared a few anecdotes from the past few years that have shaped my thinking around anonymity, ephemerality, and creativity. If you can stand my umms and errs (I’m working on it!), give it a watch.