Mar 6 - Mar 10, 2012

Never Let me Go
Kazou Ishiguro
Sci-Fi
Published 2005
288 pages

7.5/10

  In a society not unlike our own, particular children are raised to be prepared for a necessary but morbid fate.  Though some are never truly informed in outright terms, as they grow they come to understand (and ultimately accept with docile resignation) their final purpose in life...
  There's so little I can say about this book without giving away some pretty major plot points.  I'd rather let people enjoy it as it comes, as opposed to, say, being told the main idea you're supposed to slowly discover before you even read the goddamn book.  Ahem.  I'm talking to you, Janine.  But hell, at least I got to ruin Eat, Pray, Love for you.
  What I can say is that the general tone of the book is almost dreamy.  Once I realized what was going on, I wanted to rage against everything they were heading towards.  Why not run?  Find a place to hide?  Become a weeknight busboy at Denny's or a Thursday feature girl at the local strip club?

  Christ. 
  Maybe it was because our protagonists were raised in such a nice complacent environment.  Maybe if they'd been raised in the ghetto they would have been angrier.  The problem was, because our main protagonist was so accepting of the outcome of herself and her companions, I found it hard to get riled up as well, be it about their situations in particular or the book in general.

Don't get me wrong.  It wasn't a bad book.  It was extremely well written - it reminded me, in fact, of R.L. Stine's books.  Remember how there was always a jump at the end of each chapter, so you HAD to keep reading to see what would happen?  This was the grownup version of that same writing style.

  I just wish they'd gone more into... the stuff that I can't really get into without giving away the whole shebang.  You'll know what I mean if you read Never Let Me Go.  There was a lot of focus on the people, and I wanted to know... the everything else.  Though the people themselves were fairly interesting too, as they were definitely different (like, a LOT different) and reacted differently than other characters in similar situations in other books.  They definitely reacted differently that I would have, that's for sure.  Like I said, I'd probably be picking dollar bills up off a faux-wood floor with my asscheeks before I threw in the non-existent towel.
  It was an interesting book with a really neat premise, though it wasn't my usual cup of tea.  A little too soft and gentle for my taste, but still enjoyable.

  Feb 11 - Feb 19, 2012

11/22/63
Stephen King
Fantasy/Horror
Published Nov 2011
849 pages

10/10

  Jacob Epping is a regular dude dealing with his regular problems in his regular life; that is, until he is shown the "Rabbit Hole" - a time portal that leads to a sunny afternoon in 1958.  Then he becomes Jacob Epping AKA George Amberson, the man charged with saving JFK from being assassinated by Lee Harvey Oswald, and thus, the man charged with changing the course of history.

  I love Stephen King.  I do.  And his evolution as an author hasn't throw me off his bandwagon - not by a long shot.  Hell, I'll ride Stephen King's bandwagon like a drunk college student on a mechanical bull trying to win free beer.

  Except I'd never fall off the bandwagon.  Just sayin'.
  Although Stephen King no longer seems to write 'straight horror' (or even bisexual horror, for that matter) he still had me at, "Hello, is that a presidential assassination plan in your pocket, or are you just happy to see me?"  The thing is, King is an incredible writer; he holds you absolutely spellbound from page one, all the way though to the bitter (but beautiful) end, when you're crying like a bitch at 2AM on a work night, wiping your tears on the stuffed Rabbit you still sleep with.
  Ahem.
  King is at the top of his game with 11/22/63, and I couldn't help but notice that while it wasn't a horror novel per se, it contained all the cringe-worthy, nail biting, anxiety in your belly feelings that a regular horror novel produces.  You see, while our protagonist isn't exactly dealing with boogeymen (though Pennywise the Dancing Clown makes a behind the scenes cameo) he does have to deal with some all too human monsters and some utterly horrific situations that bring tears to your eyes and make the flesh crawl all up and down your hackles.  Ugh.  But the all encompassing, far reaching, genre bending nature of this book has to be its greatest appeal - it's horror, fantasy, romance, sci-fi, historical, political... and it even has pictures.
  As always, King has peopled his story with some mighty entertaining characters.  Jake AKA George is my definite favorite.  You can empathize with him one minute, and hate him the next; understand his actions but wholeheartedly wish he's reconsider.  He's a man who's one of us.  On the other hand, I found Sadie to be a little too perfect - so loving, so understanding, so heroic; she's almost unbelievable in my understanding of your average, everyday woman.  I also understand, though, that she's NOT an everyday woman... at least not from my day.  Hell, maybe chicks were different back then, and I can excuse some of her naivety and almost blind devotion to a dude who comes across as a little cray-cray.  But really, I actually chalk it up to the fact that we see Sadie through our protagonist's adoring eyes, and because of that, she comes out as a little too good to be true.  Jacob AKA George is the human mess I prefer to get behind.  And I must say, I really enjoyed the juxtaposition of the assholes and the sweethearts of the late 50's/early 60's - the ruthless bookies, the sweet Russian immigrants, the dried up old judgmental cows in position of power, and the earnest students trying to be the best that they can be.
  When it comes to the plot, I was hooked from the word go.  Time travel alone is such a neat ass concept, and when you throw in the butterfly effect and actually being capable of seeing the changes the character is enabling... holy fuck.  There's a scene early on where Jake says to his friend (and I'm paraphrasing here because I lost that particular bookmark) "What if you went back and killed your own grandfather?" and the friend replies, "Why the fuck would you want to do that?"  Honestly, that's the best solution to the grandfather paradox I've heard yet.  And that's just one of the reasons I liked the story so much.  I mean, there's so little that I can tell you about the plot without giving anything really important away... that, and my clumsy fingers would do a shit ass job in comparison to actually reading the words of the master writer himself in the actual book.  
  But what it all really comes down to is the writing.  King IS a master of the written word (at least, in my opinion).  I made note of a few of my favorite bits:

  "I felt an absurd urge to ask, Can you sell me a nice summer hat, or should I just go fuck myself?"
  "On the gray street, with the smell of industrial smokes in the airand the afternoon bleeding away to evening, downtown Derry looked only marginally more charming than a dead hooker in a church pew."
  "I pointed out more Denholm educators (many already leaving Sobriety City on the Alcohol Express)."
  "[It would] almost certainly [matter] to the tens of thousands of young Americans who were now in high school and who would, if nothing changed the course of history, be invited to put on uniforms, fly to the other side of the world, spread their nether cheeks, and sit on the big green dildo that was Vietnam."  

  And just in case you think I'm only in it for the swears and sex talk, I also wanted to share this, because it's so poignant, simple, and above all, true:

  "That's the curse of the reading class.  We can be seduced by a good story even at the least opportune moments."

  Amen, brother.  Amen.
  Honestly, if you're looking for a good long read, pick this up.  It doesn't matter what you're preferred genre is, if you studied Canadian history instead of American (King actually gives a shout out to us Canucks) or the fact that you don't have a stuffed rabbit to wipe your tears on when you lose your shit at one of the most devastatingly legit endings I've read all year. 
  You can wipe those tears on just about anything.
 
  And for all you Stephen King/sci-fi nerds out there, here's a LINK to King's interview with WIRED magazine regarding his Rules For Time Travel.  Just read the article AFTER you read the book, because some pretty key plot points are given away here.  That's just like a magazine, ruining books for us so we'll turn to their embrace of bite sized bits of information and advertisements for nice cologne.  

Jan 14 - Jan 18, 2012

77 Shadow Street
Dean Koontz
Horror/Sci Fi
Published 2011
382 pages

9/10

  The Pendleton is a stately old mansion that has been converted into luxury apartments for the wealthy elite.  It boasts Oriental rugs, a full swimming pool, and a horrific past dredged in bloodshed and insanity.  But don't be deceived, because 77 Shadow Street is no mere haunted house, and the current residents are about to be thrust into a world overseen by something far more terrifying than ghosts...

  I LIKE this book.
  It's totally bizarre and unpredictable, it dragged ass on occasion, and had too many characters; but I don't give a fuck.  I like it.
  I think the overwhelming reason why I have such affection for 77 Shadow Street is because I stepped into this thinking, "I haven't read a good haunted house story since twenty-ought-six.  This will seem new and exciting, therefore I'm down." and I plunged in like there were no fucks to be given.

  Swiftly I began to realize that this was no haunted house story in the traditional sense (no more than Epic Meal Time is a cooking show) but more of a super fucked up "This kitchen could really use a woman's touch." a la The Simpsons Treehouse of Horror kind of house.

  And then I really got reading and realized I had NO IDEA what I had gotten myself into when I cracked this sucker.
  I'll admit, I had kind of an inkling where things were headed four fifths of the way through, and was right in the broad sense.  But as far as specifics?  I'm STILL not quite sure exactly what happened and I don't think I got the license plate of that truck that hit me.I have to be honest; I was kind of waffling on whether I really liked all that much, or if I just thought it was OK.  Like I said, there was such a profusion of characters that sometimes, when I was going through a particular set of circumstances or experiences a half dozen or a dozen times, I sort of wanted to shoot myself in the face. 

_OK, mildly melodramatic, but I was growing less than amused at some points.  Also, Koontz occasionally repeats himself.  Though I can live with that, as I live in a mini-enclave of stoners, and we are notorious for telling the same story over and over and over again.  Hey, to be fair, it's hard to keep track of who you have and haven't told the amusing anecdote about the time...
  Anyways, couple those wee irritations with a final course of schmaltz, and you get a mighty waffling Kat.  But you know what did it for me?  What tipped me over the edge of "Pretty Good' into straight-up "DAMN!  This is fine Reading!' with an extra helping of awesome?  The fact that A) Koontz gives a contact address so you can write him (He's not too good for us little peoples!) and B) He mentions his dog in the dedication, who he also wrote a book about.  And yes, I know you all assumed Wikipedia was the most accurate place to score all your info:

  But Koontz is the guy, not the dog. 
  Anyways, Trixie (his dog) passed away, but Dean hasn't forgotten her, and is keeping her name alive via dedications, books, and her own spot on his website.  Hell, he's even got a spot on there so you can donate to the organization that Trixie came from, as Trixie was a retired companion animal. 
  Shiz, you guys.  I'm tearing up a little right now.  Don't judge me.
  So to sum it up, Dean Koontz writes scary weird, lets his fans send him locks of their hair, and loves his passed away dog.  And on this day, my Grinch heart grew three sizes, and I found just a little more love for this book.
  Or I just might be ovulating.  But I'd like to think it's love.
  And just so you don't think I got too sappy, I'll leave you with some of my favorite Eic Meal Time videos (I made a version of the cake with girlfriends once... wait, did I already tell you that story?)

  And the first one I ever saw (and my all time favorite):

Dec 29, 2011 - Jan 2, 2012 (We're in the future, man!)

The Good Humor Man
Andrew Fox
Sci-Fi/Dystopian Future
Published 2009
267 pages

9/10

  In the near future, everyone is thin and fattening foods are not only shunned, they're actually illegal (at which point I would kill myself).  Good Humor Men live to destroy these evil foods, but Louis Schmaltzberg, original Good Humor Man, retired liposuctionist, and son of the man who liposuctioned Elvis himself, begins to doubt his current career.  When a macabre piece of his family legacy draws the attention of a myriad of powers, Louis goes on the run and attempts to save the world.

  Fuckin' weird.  Not senselessly weird, like Carlton Mellick III (not that he's not incredible in his own right) or British humor (I just don't get that shit) but weird like... I don't know what, exactly.  The closest approximation I can come to is... Sideways Stories From Wayside School. 

  It's very well done weirdness, I can tell you that much.  Every bizarre element wound up having an integral part in the story, somehow.  Which is actually mighty impressive when you consider that some key plot points are: Elvis Presley's belly fat in a jar; a mysterious government funded wasting disease;  a 500lb food Nazi and his clones; and a church dedicated to the cannula.  Imagine, if you will for a moment, being heavily intoxicated and lying in a bed with 3 other people while trying to explain this book.  There was a lot of yelling, and nothing was in order.  I was yelling, by the way, because by yelling, I was making my points more clear.
  For all the weirdness, it was a simple book.  A quandary was presented, the protagonist made the choice (well, the author made it for him, but bear with me here) to take it upon himself to rectify it.  Basically: 

  No midway moral quandaries, no deceptions or feints, no multi-layered multi-leveled plot lines, just an old fashioned straightforward dystopian future adventure.  Which is kind of what does it for me.
  It felt like it dragged ass a little bit on occasion, but adventure always popped up when it was needed most, so in retrospect, it was more awesome than not.  It was one of those incredibly quick and fun, like making sweet sweet love to the Ultimate Indulgence. 
  Simple (yet complicated) and fun (yet disturbing).  I liked it. 

Nov 25 - Nov 28, 2011

The Lost Diaries of John Smith
Phillip Rhodes
Sci-Fi
Published 2011
98 pages

4/10

  In 2014, a gargantuan fireball causes the demise of countless people and destroys 99-point-some-odd percent of electronics.  The cause of this?  Aliens (though they did it accidentally).  These aliens then very nicely force survivors (including the titular character, John Smith) to mine for a mysterious reason under dangerous conditions.  All this is told many years later via several secret diaries kept by John, and the young girl he saved back in 2014 who is trying to find him.

  Oy vey.  There's a possibility I could have liked this.

Really, the premise was decent - aliens who DON'T want to blow up/enslave/kill/cook human - how very novel!

  However, I couldn't get past several issues, both technical and... non-technical.
  First off, and most importantly: THE EDITING ERRORS!  Christ Almighty!  The MULTITUDE of editing errors!  Honestly, they got to be so prevalent that I started keeping a list (and it is by no means complete, I'm sure; I only started keeping it on page 8, and I left out anything that I wasn't 100% certain of):
Pages 8, 12, 17, 20, 27, 29, 42 (I started a little paper list here, instead of on my Kobo, because it was ridiculously distracting to close out of the book and open the sketchbook, but I managed to lose it, so I started another list on my Kobo) 54, 65, 67, 84, 88, 90, 92, 94, 95, 97...
  These pages all had some mistake or another.  Sometimes simple things like "...and that mean working for..."(p. 8) or "...he was right off course..."(p. 94) or "...the worse is not over..."(p. 12).  At first I thought I was dealing with past/present errors (mean, means, or meant?)  which is irritating enough, but then, I started finding stuff like THIS:
  "Today a small plague dedicated to the men is located as close as possible to the mine entrance."(p. 92)  A plague?  I'd love a plague dedicated to me!  Is the bubonic one taken?  Or how about locusts?  I know!  I'd like the plague that keeps sending me e-mails promising to add four inches to my penis!  I'm sure my husband would be delighted!
  Or how about THIS:
  "...but if someone young and inquisitive comes along demanding to know the truth, then sometimes we oblige with a few documents hand-delivered, albeit anomalously, because you deserved to know the truth."(p. 97)
  Firstly, can you see how the past/present thing is a little off-putting?  And I'm pretty sure having the words "anomalously" and "truth" in the same sentence is counter-productive.  I mean, he could have intended to use that word, but I'm fairly certain he meant to use 'anonymously' since they were talking about discretion and something that had to be covered up or else the government would find them.
  Seriously, you need to proof-read your shiz because you send it out into the internetz.

Oct 10 - Oct 25, 2011

Oryx and Crake
Margaret Atwood
Dystopian Future
Published 2003
443 pages

7.5/10

  A crusty weirdo recounts his recollection of the events leading up to the end of human civilization, while attempting to survive the current situation in which he is desperately trying to look after himself, as well as a beautiful race of super-humans.  Who don't actually seem to need his help, but he seems to like to feel important.   

  It's a tough thing, when you like the setting of a story, but not the main player - our protagonist, Jimmy AKA Snowman, is kind of an insufferable asshat, and almost wholly unlovable, in my approximation.  I say almost, because he loved his pet mutant rakunk and anyone who loves animals gets a point in my books, but that's it.  A point.  And really, that's all Jimmy gets from me.  He's desperate for approval, willing to compromise his ethics, treats women badly... do I need to continue, or can you take me at my word that I really just don't like him?
  As Snowman, he's somewhat changed, but not much for the better.  Clearly, he's insane.  He wears a bed sheet and sunglasses with one lens and sleeps in trees.  He's decided to make himself a sort of demi-God or go-between or what-have-you to a new race (that might possibly be the only substantial human-like race left) and chooses to deprive himself of their company and possible services.  OK, fine.  You don't want to feel like a burden of a weirdo, and you don't want to take advantage of them.  I can understand that.  It's a totally reasonable human reaction.  But since they seem to be doing just fine without him, why doesn't he go and make himself comfortable somewhere out in what seems to be THE ENTIRE ABANDONED PLANET.  UGH.  Maybe I'm just bitter and I daydream about the day that I'm the last person on the planet, and I can finally hole up in a Chapters and read for a hundred years until I'm a dried up sexy corpse.  I just don't get why you'd deprive yourself like that.  If he has such an affinity to these people, why doesn't he find a nice place nearby and visit them?  Why doesn't he ask for their help in building a proper shelter?  Why doesn't he do a billion things that I'm constantly asking him in my head (and sometimes out loud)?  Why why WHY?
  I think my problem is that I read The Year of the Flood, and was completely taken by Toby and Ren.  Not only were they strong female characters from lower-middle class backgrounds that I could totally root for, and not only did they accept their hardships, move on with their lives, and try to make the best of it, they stories were set in the "pleeblands" which was basically the ghetto, and I find that setting infinitely more interesting than the fancy suburbs where Jimmy lived.  I'll take fanatics, pimps, and grow-ops over... well, just about anything.
    I try not to let other books or movies influence the book that I'm reading, but in this case, I just couldn't help it.  Reading Oryx and Crake after reading The Year of the Flood is kind of like how I imagine watching Indiana Jones and the Raiders of the Lost Ark:

Followed by a viewing of the same movie, but told via correspondence through Indiana and his kindly grandfather, as they both sit in their nice houses in suburbia drinking lite beer.

  But while I was somewhat turned off by the protagonist and the setting, and therefore spent a lot of time dicking around and studiously avoiding reading this book, when I did actually pick it up, I enjoyed it more so than a fair few books, because Margaret Atwood writes like a motherbitch.  There's a certain flow that lets the reader just kind of zone out into the book, and I find her work an easy read; not because it's fluff (her stuff never is) but because you immediately sink in and find yourself totally enmeshed in the story.  No shitty grammatical and spelling errors, no glaring continuity issues, and no garbage dialogue.  She's pretty fuckin' dialed, that woman. 
  So it was a well written book, about an interesting subject, peopled with characters I didn't like, in a setting that bored me. 
  And still better than some of the bullshit I read. 

Oct 3 - Oct 9, 2011

The Year of the Flood
Margaret Atwood
Dystopian Future
Published 2009
434 pages

10/10

  The future has slowly but surely crept up upon us, and it is very bleak indeed.  There are far fewer animals and greenspace, life has exponentially grown more regimented and desensitized, and the shit is about to hit the fan...

  When I started reading this book, I was worried.  VERY worried. 
  First off, there were two narratives.  Two narratives means twice the amount of protagonists to remember, and half the time to bond with them - the risk runs high that I might just end up not giving a flying fuck about either one, unless expertly handled.  Secondly, the timeline wasn't linear - we jumped back and forth from present to past all willy-nilly, like a time machine piloted by Calvin and Hobbes: 

In cases such as these, there's a good possibility that I'll become confused and disoriented and, eventually, pissed off (not unlike crowds at sporting events in Vancouver *cough* Stanly Cup riots *cough*).  So yeah, mighty worried on my end when I started reading The Year of the Flood.
  Luckily, this is a Margaret Atwood book.
  So while I initially suffered some unusually crafted book jitters, I quickly became accustomed to the style and dove in full force.  And because it was slightly more complicated of a read, it felt all the more satisfying to read it.
  I was invested in both protagonists: Toby, because she was so complicated; I loved that she put out the outward appearance of being a supreme hardass to the other characters, but underneath it all she was as banged up a human being as the rest of us.  Ren, on the other hand, was naive and vulnerable and emotional; I could identify with her because she handled situations the same way I felt I would, and she was achingly human for all the world to see.  And yet you could see a lot of Toby in Ren, and Ren in Toby.  It was almost as though they were two different versions of the same character, which was really neat.
  Even the beginning of the chapters, where we were given a glimpse of the indoctrination of the Gardeners, was crucial because it gave us insight into the critical shaping of these women, mentally, spiritually, and emotionally.  And again, because they both spent so much time with the Gardeners, it helps to draw us to their similarities as opposed to their differences. 
  The future that The Year of the Flood described was hardly outlandish.  Gene splicing is growing by leaps and bounds as we speak, the gap between the rich and poor is becoming more and more pronounced (Gated communities and ghettos still exist) and I wouldn't be surprised if there was already a shady police force doling out justice as seen by the wealthy.  Oh, that does already exist?  I rest my case.  This book just takes all those elements and makes them more pronounced, and adds neat futuristic elements that make the read a little more realistic, in a way.  It IS the future, after all.  Of course there's going to be liobams!
  Did I mention there was a SeksMart?  Clandestine grow-ops?  Inward spiritual journeys fueled by magic mushrooms?  Christ on a cracker, Margaret Atwood is a rad lady.
  Honestly, I was dreading the end of this book, counting the dwindling pages and feeling kind of depressed that it was going to be over, because I liked it so much that I wanted more.  Luckily, I caught many a reference to Oryx and Crake, and I do happen to have a copy of that book kicking around...

Jan 6 - Jan 11, 2011

Fahrenheit 451
Ray Bradbury
Dystopian Future
Published 1953
147 pages

7/10

    In the future, the population is made up of mindless zombies (check) giant TVs that stupefy the nation (check) a nation as a whole that refuses to question authority (check) and firemen that set things on fire (they're called arsonists in our current time).
    Do teachers made you read certain books in High School English class just to feel clever?  "Now that we've finished the novel, boys and girls, I'd like to let you in on a little secret...  This is no Science Fiction future; this is a metaphor for US!"  And as a collective gasp and stunning round of applause fills the Headmaster's mind, in reality, there is nothing but crickets.  I never read this in school (we read "Deathwatch" which I thought was terrific) but I figured it out pretty easily.  I mean, really, the theme seems to be that not reading makes you complacent sheeple (sheep + people = sheeple) and ultimately, easier to destroy.
    To be fair, this theme has proved timeless, as it is applied still, as it applied 60-some-odd years ago, when this came out.  The bit between Montag and Beatty especially, regarding how everything had to be condensed, brightened up, filled with noise, and animated to keep anyone's attention at all holds particularly true.  From Nursery to University and back to Nursery, and all that jazz.  We do live in a society where we absorb info in lightning quick bytes, and glowing screens are slowly turning us into mindless, showerless zombies.  Fair enough, Bradbury, point taken.
    I have a few problems with this book though; mainly that it's not believable.  The characters and actions all seem so flat, so one-dimensional...  Beatty is the only one with any true passion (he also seems to be the most well-read out of the lot of them, to boot... connection?  I think so).  And the scenario of books being outlawed?  Pshaw.  That is so last century, and far be it from modern society to equate itself with the Fuhrer.  It seems far more likely that books would just... fade away; eschewed in favor of more glowing screens (Kindle, anyone?) like TV, computers, and phones.  Books would become passe and the government wouldn't have to do shit about them.  Of course, twenty years later, they'd become trendy again...  Seriously, neon Ray-Bans and scrunchies are here... again.         
    This story had so many important threads - the evolution of Montag, society's downfall, the war, the secret uprising, but nothing was really focused on adequately enough for me to care much.  It just went pew! pew! pew! from one thing to the next (which was something that I think Bradbury was trying to make a negative point about...  I don't know if that's supposed to be ironic or what...).
    It was a great idea, but I'm just not a fan of the writing style.  It just seemed to have no heart.  Or it was too British.  One of the two.

Nov 2 - Nov 6, 2010

The Bachman Books: The Running Man
Richard Bachman/ Stephen King
Sci-Fi
Published 1982

9/10

  In a not-too distant future, the poor are given the option of slowly starving, or competing on deadly game shows.  Just an evolved version of current affairs, I suppose.
  As wildly unreal as this book seems, as hard as it is to take it completely seriously with it's futuristic weapons and hover cars and ludacris forms of entertainment - I know on an intellectual level that this is an all too real possibility of our direction as a society.  In general, the theme is the ever-widening gap between the Haves and Have-Nots (which is, without question, an issue occurring as we speak... type?  Read?  Whatever.) and the repercussions of this societal trend.  The upper and upper middle class - or "Haves" - will continue to live out their daily lives in their ever dwindling numbers, and the lower class - the "Have-Nots" - will grow and become more feared, less human, and therefore more expendable, which will ultimately lead to anarchy.  Richard's thoughts about how the slum-dwellers would eventually mutate, adapt, and rise up against the weak aristocracy and eventually destroy them was incredibly poignant.  The Running man was thought provoking, surely, but kind of silly and fun, which is great for entertainment value, but takes away some of the impact.  However, it must be noted - there was a GREAT twist at the end there.  Totally blindsided me.  So, a fun book.  Good, well-written, if a little unbelievable (Duh, It's sci-fi).  For sure it's a rad concept.
  Although I wonder if reality TV execs have ever read this, or if they even should...