Dan McNeil's Blog

What a nihilistic title for a post.  Of course, I don't mean it generally; I'm being very specific with it. There are things in my life I care about and have always cared about.  I care about the well-being of my friends.  I care about having an interesting career.  I care about the latest scientific developments.  And I care about the health of our guinea pigs. There are things I have never cared about.  Football, for instance. And then there are the things I used to care about, but really don't raise any interest anymore.  Things which I used to actively seek out information about and take an active interest in, but which now pass me by.  It's not that I've gone from "liking" them to "disliking" them - it's simply that I don't really care anymore. Firstly on the list is Madonna.  Back when she put out "Ray Of Light", I used to listen to every single and follow when the next album was coming out.  We even went to see he

I've been accused of wearing my "never seen many films" badge with honour.  I wouldn't say I wear such a badge with honour, but it's certainly something I talk about often.   It's interesting to talk about for two reasons. When talking about how few films I've seen, it's interesting to hear people tell me how much I'm missing out on.  Even the most banal of film can turn into a cinematic masterpiece when people are telling me how much better than the book it is.  Secondly, and more interestingly, people often say "you should definitely watch this " and then recommend the films I should watch. The other weekend, we had a couple of friends over for an evening in, and I saw True Lies.  It was honestly the first time I'd ever seen it, and by my rough counting, I think it was the 19th film I've ever seen all the way through.  Yes, nineteen.    It was fun; I did enjoy it. I've no moral objection to film.  I don't see it as a

It's an oft-asked question - "What would be your super power if you could have one?" It's not a question I've pondered much, but if you were to ask me right this second, my answer wouldn't be anything to do with solving world hunger or being invisible so I could creep around the place unseen - right now, I'd like to be able to ironing clothes whilst sitting on the sofa using only the power of my mind. But whilst on the subject of mundane super powers, I once saw Laurence Llewellyn Bowen by the side of the road.  It was back when I worked near Paddington and he was standing on Eastbourne Terrace.   Suddenly, he flung his arm out and performed what can only be described as a "dandy-ish gesture" with his hand.  Right at that second, a Mercedes pulled up alongside him - seemingly appearing from nowhere - and he climbed in and was whisked away.   Now that's a super power I wouldn't mind - gesture your hand in a slightly camp way and a Merc

I do love a good ghost story.  I don't believe for a second that ghosts actually exist, but a well-written ghost story is a great thing to read. Even for someone who doesn't believe in ghosts, a well-written ghost story can create enough tension to get the hairs on the back of my neck standing up.  Even though I know there's not going to be anything staring back at me, a well-written ghost story can cause me to stare nervously out of the window into the darkness, for a moment hoping that there won't be a figure looking back at me. So, I bought "The Woman In Black" at the weekend.  I don't ever go to the cinema (*) but I am aware enough to know that the film's out at the moment and I'm aware of the stage play, too.  I guess that's why the book was so prominent in Waterstones when I was in there. Anyway, I'd heard that it was genuinely quite scary, so I thought I'd pick it up and give it a read.  It's a short book, so I got thro

Firstly, please don't judge me for this.  I don't deliberately listen into other conversations.  I'm naturally inquisitive, it's true, but I am not one for eavesdropping into a private conversation in the same way I wouldn't want anyone to eavesdrop on my conversations.  However, on a rush hour of a morning, personal space is in short supply and if somebody is having a conversation right next to you, it's impossible not to hear it. Of course, hearing it isn't the same as listening.  But even when not consciously listening to a conversation, the brain can still pick out the odd word, and sometimes there are words, or phrases, or threads in the conversation which act like a beacon to the conscious brain - drawing attention from your book or current "Words with Friends" game and pulling it into the conversation of the person next to you. I was on the tube yesterday morning and this happened to me.  I was trying to finish off "The Woman In Bla