Saturday, February 26, 2005

Who The Fuck Is Daniel Davies?

Apparently I'm being read. There's a blog called which expressed some opinions on my latest blogposts.

To wit.

'Sean Thomas is moderately amusing, but also a twat. Experiencing his blog is rather like reading a Martin Amis novel while being lovelessly buggered by your fat, elderly landlord because it's the only way you can pay the rent... I recommend you read Sean Thomas's site until Mr Thomas's overwhelming desire to please, impress and disturb (but not too much, because that might undermine the 'please' and 'impress') leaves you wishing you'd never encountered him in the first place.'

You can read the entire text and ancillary comments here

I find I rather agree with these remarks. I probably do have an 'overwhelming desire to please, impress and disturb'. Fair comment.

But there's a reason for my 'overwhelming desire to please, impress and disturb'. And that reason is this. I'm a writer, an artist, a NOVELIST. 'Please, impress and disturb' is what novelists strive to DO. It's our metier. Our thing. A way of life. A calling. My 'overwhelming desire to please, impress and disturb' is precisely what marks me out as a NOVELIST, an ARTIST, a WRITER, a FUCKING PUBLISHED NOVELIST, as compared to, say, a 'drinks industry analyst'. Or a git.

Nah, only joking. Thanks for the link, mate. I'm happy to return the compliment - is an interesting blog, if you like that kinda thing.

That said, though, I really DO take issue with one of the comments appended to this blog-reaction. Someone called Daniel Davies claims he once threatened to 'chin me in a Bloomsbury pub'. Oh yeah? You and whose army, penis head? Funny I don't remember this incident. You drivelling spaz.

Er, I have a hangover this morning.


john b said...

I recommend you fight Dan Davies to the death somewhere in North London; we can tout tickets to assorted literary, economicary, and consultantary wankers. £10 per head?

Used to think being a published novelist commanded respect, until the Internet commanded this kind of travesty. More seriously, I'm impressed you've got the balls to write fiction; while I reckon you deserved your Bad Sex Award dramatically, at least you bothered trying to humiliate yourself while I sat around trying to look clever (which ain't hard in the context of UK political bloggage).

Not that I'm bitter or anything.

john b said...
This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.
Anonymous said...

.. people are pretty brave on the internet.. in real life, they usually back down.. not that I know you, or Mr. Davies...

.. nice blog, man.. you sure have met a lot of famous people..

Anonymous said...


Probably a case of mistaken identity then. If you reread the comments thread, I suggested that you looked like someone I'd threatened to chin. Rather like if I'd pissed in David Beckham's tea, and a bloke who looked like David Beckham walked past, I might say "he looks like a bloke whose tea I once pissed in".

I'd also hasten to point out that John B has no real management or promotion contract with me and is not able to commit me to fight deals.

love, dd

sean said...

Wotcha, dd. To be honest your remarks perturbed me because I WAS quite a knobhead when I lived in those Bloomsbury purlieus. Indeed I was a smackhead. My drug-taking pals and I used to go to the Lamb before/after scoring. So it is quite possible, nay certain that I behaved in ways likely to induce menaces from other drinkers. But my friends and I were also quite punchy, so it is less likely that we didn't respond. Probably I was too stoned to even notice you getting angry. Anyway, I am glad that peace has broken out, that the harp of concord is being strummed, that the angels of tranquility reign serenely over the Blogosphere once more. Also I quite like your blog-posts, though I disagree with every word. Cheers! ST