Reviewed: June 22, 2011
Genre: Um...well...fiction, for sure, but beyond that...no freakin' clue
Series: N/A ~ Non-Series / Stand-Alone (Probably a Good Thing)
Rating: 4 stars
Length: 316 Pages
Formats: Print, eBook
Disclosure: I was provided a copy of this book from the author, free of charge, in return for an honest review...though he may have had more nefarious intentions, like instilling random fast food cravings, a yearning for big hair bands, and a weird aversion to the therapy that I may need after reading this. Regardless, all ratings, thoughts, and feelings expressed in this review are my own.
Dropping Himself back down to Earth in 1987 at the height of the "Me" decade, the ruler of all things perversely practical jokey (aka God) has a grand scheme...er...enlightened plan...to pull yet another one over on the unsuspecting but far too pitiful masses of humanity. With a New Age store and a bell, he gears up for reaching out and touching many, many people. He finds Oliver.
Oliver is sort of the Everyman of mental health. As an outreach counselor, he's surrounded by the mentally unstable, and in truth, he's often a little befuddled by it all. Until he meets Jeremy (yeah...that'd be God). Then things get a little weird for this mild mannered, innocuous little man.
Take one God, one Everyman, a few functioning neurotics and psychotics, questionable therapy, drugs, sex, and aliens on a quest to either experience the Ultimate Orgasm or kill everyone trying, and you've got one seriously messed up but completely compelling pseudo masterpiece of blasphemous delight.
I was genuinely surprised at how very much I enjoyed this wacky little tale. It's not my normal cuppa, that's for sure. Despite that, I found myself drawn into the story and eerily caught by the antics of the characters. As it turns out, I liked it quite a bit. Oh, I knew I was going to have a special place in my heart for the blasphemy. I do so love a good blaspheme. What I wasn't expecting was a rather remarkably well-told satirical parable.
Credit must be given to the author known by his Commander Pants nom de plume (at least I sincerely hope it's a nom de plume). It's not often that a I find such convincing evidence of a truly gifted storyteller with solid technical writing skills, and certainly not amongst independent authors. The smooth level of sophistication in the characters and the narrative, and a slick but spatter-patterned plot, imbues this story with a unique freshness that was very appealing.
The plot was bizarre. And twisted. It first snagged, then held my attention with its seemingly random and wacky happenstance. Sure, it danced the rumba over the line between mad brilliance and absurdity more than once, and a few of the plot points seemed a bit unnecessary (I still don't know what the point of Greg's storyline was), but to be fair, it's also entirely possible that I just lack the superlative erudition necessary to fit every one of the pieces together. With a book like this, it's a little hard to tell.
I definitely wouldn't recommend this to those for whom religion is as serious a subject as Big Macs are to the OOklah. For everyone else, though, especially those with a fondness for the freaky and a preference for the peculiar, this is a weird but oddly entertaining bit of blasphemy that I heartily embraced.
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