Customer Reviews

Red Meat Cures Cancer

5 star:		(10)
4 star:		(0)
3 star:		(2)
2 star:		(2)
1 star:		(0)

 

 

Outrageous and smart humor makes this book an enjoyable read. The story starts so far from reality and coherently spins out of control, I found myself searching for real-world parallels. This is an effective technique making the story work and the characters memorable.

Like a recurring, well done Saturday Night Live sketch (Will Ferrell as George W. Bush or Darrell Hammond as Chris Matthews "Hardball") the caricatures follow the subject and continue to entertain far into the future. Red Meat will no doubt have the same result for the many stereotypes O'Dwyer weaves into the book.

I love stories set in familiar places and I think this is the first book I have ever read set in Rochester NY, where I grew up. The many popular landmarks from upstate NY added to the story

md
Michael Duranko
www.bootism.com

This review from NadaMucho.com, which features book reviews focusing on contemporary fiction...

"Red Meat Cures Cancer" tackles the world of fast food corporate culture - although not quite the way we'd expect - with the story of Schuyler "Sky" Thorne, a sort of everyman executive hoping to coast through his last year of work so that he can collect retirement. A threat from his grossly obese, good ol' boy boss to raise market share "or else" triggers a series of outrageous events that threaten Sky's chances of finishing off his career in peace.

As Senior V.P. of Tailburger, an underdog burger chain whose target audience is convicts and other assorted lowlifes, Sky's life takes a turn from bad to worse as he realizes his morals are slipping away in a wash of increasingly desperate marketing ploys, most of which have gone horribly awry. The books shines in this aspect - by presenting the story from an intimate, first person point of view, "RMCC" puts a personal spin on the otherwise terribly inhumane world of corporations.

Additionally, this angle allows O'Dwyer to tackle the many gray areas and personal conflicts that are all part of survival for people in positions of power. Successfully balancing an insane boss, political alliances that shift with the daily news, and a personal life gone terribly awry, Sky becomes an improbably sympathetic character. It's refreshing to read about an executive-type who is portrayed as much more human than the stock, heartless "The Man" (read: aging white guy) character, which would be the obvious choice for a story such as this.

This is O'Dwyer's greatest strength. He understands that competent satire requires a blend of absurdity and subtlety, and that the obvious choice (which in this case would've been a McDonald's executive) is not always the funniest. He deftly walks the fine line between archetype and stereotype, delicately balancing an outrageous cast of familiar characters that might have come across as stale in lesser hands.

A penchant for silly names (a Texas beef council member named Traylor Hitch, for example) and superfluous characters, a tendency to throw in a few too many absurd and unnecessary situations, and an all-too-abrupt and poorly conceived ending are the few missteps in an otherwise purely American satire. Super mad props to the author for self-publishing the hardcopy edition before Vintage picked it up for larger distribution in paperback. It may not be the benchmark for contemporary corporate satire, but "RMCC" is a double bacon burger with extra cheese: delicious and enough to satisfy.

This is the funniest novel/farce/satire that I have read in a long time. I hope Starbuck is not a one book author.

This book is an outrageous satire on the fast food industry and all the people it touches. Perfect timing, given the insanity over cigarette and fast food lawsuits. It pokes expert fun at those who never blame themselves for their troubles and, in so doing, gives the reader some sober reflection on where we're headed as a society. O'Dwyer is a top-notch humorist and commentator. I cannot wait until his next one. I'm handing this one around as a Christmas gift. Cannot miss.

I really enjoyed Red Meat Cures Cancer. It takes a thoughtful look at some of the more controversial issues present in society today while remianing interesting and humorous. It is a great relaxing read that will stimulate and engender both humor and thought and takes the reader through the today's pop culture in a very interesting and entertaining manner.

I thought I was the only one laughing at the news headlines - fast food lawsuits?!?! Starbuck O'Dwyer's satire on the fast food industry is by far the most creative and hilarious book I have EVER read and it came out at a great time! The characters and plot in Red Meat Cures Cancer will keep anyone turning the pages as fast as they can while in hysterics! I recommend this book to anyone who wants to dust off their own creativity and get a laugh out of fast food!

Schuyler Witherbee Thorne, 45, the Chief Operating Officer and Senior Vice President in charge of marketing at Tailburger, Inc. of Rochester, New York, has a problem.
Frank T. Fanoflincoln (aka "The Link"), a Civil War buff who has legally changed his name, is the founder and President of Tailburger and the father of the golf-obsessed triplets Ned, Ted, and Fred ("a triumvirate of stupidity"). The Link gives Sky an ultimatum: "Pull Tailburger out of its tailspin. Increase our market share to five percent or you will be 'let go.' "
The flagship sandwich of the franchise, known as the Tailpipe, consists of four batter-dipped, deep-fried patties of red meat and a bun, held together by five generous dollops of Cajun-style mayonnaise. For the "fast food outlaws" at Tailburger all talk of "no fat, low fat, reduced fat, artificial fat" is anathema.
Tailburger's customers? "We go after the disenchanted, the disaffected, the dispirited and the dispossessed. We go after the self-mutilators, manic-depressives, agoraphobics, crackheads, scoop fiends, and redneck trailer trash. We're banking on the fact that most Americans would rather be fat and happy than thin and deprived."
At "Cholesterol City" the bottom line is, well, the bottom line. Advertising campaigns, no matter how mendacious, are launched if they will increase revenue. It's full speed ahead into the coronary zone, and the public be damned.
With twenty years of faithful service at Tailburger, and only six months to go until retirement, Sky looks forward to a well-deserved pension. But, given declining sales and spirited attacks by consumer advocate groups such as SERMON (Stop Eating Red Meat Now), Sky's work is cut out for him.
A widower and father of two semi-estranged grown children (Ethan and Sophia), Sky is basically a decent man who strives for moral integrity, peace of mind, and someone whom he can love and who will love him.
Trouble is, Sky, has been caught up in the rat race of pursuing the American Dream. Snared in a tangled web of deception, he cuts corners, tweaks and twists the truth, and fabricates inaccuracies. Let's face it: he lies.
Sky has a torrid encounter with Muffet Meaney, SERMON's tofu-munching, "politically correct," nymphomaniac who zealously warns consumers of Carnegeddon. He even makes a videotape of their erotic tryst. He soon realizes, however, that the real prize is Rochester's mayor, Annette McNabnay, an intelligent, beautiful, and caring woman.
Sky's "New Age" do-nothing older brother, King, who flits from job to job, seeks to heal Sky's "chee" (restore his "inner harmony") with a mishmash of Taoism, Buddhism, and Qigong, and a regimen of chai tea, organic polenta, and various soybean derivatives.
The plot thickens (sickens?) when Sky's best friend, Cal Perkins, convinces Sky to link Tailburger with a pornographic website and promote a sordid (and, as it turns out, illegal) sweepstakes at Nevada's www.lustranch.com
"Lies are wonderful devices," muses Sky. "Like hidden mines, however, they forever threaten to blow you up if you aren't careful. . . . Why do my desires and basic needs continually put me at odds with the truth? I'd started my life with the desire to have the fortitude of David Copperfield and I'd ended with the weakness of Pip."
All of his life, Sky has dreamed of escaping the rat race and sailing to Tahiti, where he will find the elusive peace of mind. Will he find love and happiness or will he be sent to prison for his shady deeds? At the end, just when it seems that Sky's ship has come in--literally--a shattering bolt from the sky, a deus ex machina, writes finis to his tale (tail?).
A rip-roaring spoof of the fast food industry and a withering satire of pork barrel politics, corruption, nepotism, toadyism, bribery, and blackmail, Red Meat Cures Cancer is a veritable primer of political incorrectness.
Raunchy, risque, and ribald, this ribbing of American pop culture is a comic romp--a hoot, a howl, a sidesplitting takeoff. If Starbuck O'Dwyer's novel doesn't make you laugh hysterically, you don't have a funny bone in your body.
Red Meat Cures Cancer, however, is more than slapstick comedy. There's also a serious leitmotif here of pathos and tragedy. Commenting on the sad state of American culture, O'Dwyer opines that the false idols of money, fame, power and youth thrive because of the perceived void of worthier things to believe in.
"Life, I'd learned," says Sky, "is just one big accumulation of wounds. Now I needed time to heal." Apparently, O'Dwyer is saying that we are fortunate if, in the end, we have found more joy in life than woe.
A well-crafted book, Red Meat Cures Cancer moves briskly; its characters, dialogue, and story line snap, crackle, and pop--like juicy burgers sizzling on a red-hot grill. Starbuck O'Dwyer has written a winner.
Starbuck O'Dwyer is a graduate of Princeton, Oxford, and Cornell Universities. Originally from Rochester, New York, he now lives near Washington, D.C. You can visit his website at www.starbuckodwyer.com
Roy E. Perry of Nolensville is an amateur philosopher, Civil War buff, chess enthusiast, and classical music lover. He is an advertising copywriter at a Nashville Publishing House.

"Red Meat Cures Cancer" is a hysterical, extremely well-written commentary on modern American society. Like Voltaire, O'Dwyer not only paints an accurate portrait of current society, but he has also managed to add a touch of philosophy to this marvelous work without making it too difficult to digest or too much like a sermon (pun intended).

If you like reference comedy, you'll love "Red Meat Cures Cancer." O'Dwyer satirical look at our world is enthralling, and I recognized people I know or with whom I am familiar in each character.

I loved the book, and I recommend "Red Meat Cures Cancer" without reservation.

I was rolling in my seat when I read Red Meat Cures Cancer. The idea of a 300 fat gram tailburger and all the other characters in the book is great. The audacity of the King of Tailburger is great and they market to low-lifes, prison, and people with a drug problem. The way the media is distorted and dialogue crackles. It is an alternate universe and was absolutely hilarious to me - a fan of all satire like Hiassen and Buckley's thank you for Smoking.

Do yourself a favor and buy this book. You will be laughing with tears running down your face if you really think about the subject.

Andy G.

Schuyler Witherbee Thorne, 45, the Chief Operating Officer and Senior Vice President in charge of marketing at Tailburger, Inc. of Rochester, New York, has a problem.

Frank T. Fanoflincoln (aka "The Link"), a Civil War buff who has legally changed his name, is the founder and President of Tailburger and the father of the golf-obsessed triplets Ned, Ted, and Fred ("a triumvirate of stupidity"). The Link gives Sky an ultimatum: "Pull Tailburger out of its tailspin. Increase our market share to five percent or you will be 'let go.' "

The flagship sandwich of the franchise, known as the Tailpipe, consists of four batter-dipped, deep-fried patties of red meat and a bun, held together by five generous dollops of Cajun-style mayonnaise. For the "fast food outlaws" at Tailburger all talk of "no fat, low fat, reduced fat, artificial fat" is anathema.

Tailburger's customers? "We go after the disenchanted, the disaffected, the dispirited and the dispossessed. We go after the self-mutilators, manic-depressives, agoraphobics, crackheads, scoop fiends, and rednecks ... We're banking on the fact that most Americans would rather be fat and happy than thin and deprived."

At "Cholesterol City" the bottom line is, well, the bottom line. Advertising campaigns, no matter how mendacious, are launched if they will increase revenue. It's full speed ahead into the coronary zone, and the public be damned.

With twenty years of faithful service at Tailburger, and only six months to go until retirement, Sky looks forward to a well-deserved pension. But, given declining sales and spirited attacks by consumer advocate groups such as SERMON (Stop Eating Red Meat Now), Sky's work is cut out for him.

A widower and father of two semi-estranged grown children (Ethan and Sophia), Sky is basically a decent man who strives for moral integrity, peace of mind, and someone whom he can love and who will love him.

Trouble is, Sky, has been caught up in the rat race of pursuing the American Dream. Snared in a tangled web of deception, he cuts corners, tweaks and twists the truth, and fabricates inaccuracies. Let's face it: he lies.

Sky has a torrid encounter with Muffet Meaney, SERMON's tofu-munching, "politically correct," nymphomaniac who zealously warns consumers of Carnegeddon. He even makes a videotape of their erotic tryst. He soon realizes, however, that the real prize is Rochester's mayor, Annette McNabnay, an intelligent, beautiful, and caring woman.

Sky's "New Age" do-nothing older brother, King, who flits from job to job, seeks to heal Sky's "chee" (restore his "inner harmony") with a mishmash of Taoism, Buddhism, and Qigong, and a regimen of chai tea, organic polenta, and various soybean derivatives.

The plot thickens (sickens?) when Sky's best friend, Cal Perkins, convinces Sky to link Tailburger with a pornographic website and promote a sordid (and, as it turns out, illegal) sweepstakes at Nevada's ...

"Lies are wonderful devices," muses Sky. "Like hidden mines, however, they forever threaten to blow you up if you aren't careful. . . . Why do my desires and basic needs continually put me at odds with the truth? I'd started my life with the desire to have the fortitude of David Copperfield and I'd ended with the weakness of Pip."

All of his life, Sky has dreamed of escaping the rat race and sailing to Tahiti, where he will find the elusive peace of mind. Will he find love and happiness or will he be sent to prison for his shady deeds? At the end, just when it seems that Sky's ship has come in--literally--a shattering bolt from the sky, a deus ex machina, writes finis to his tale (tail?).

A rip-roaring spoof of the fast food industry and a withering satire of pork barrel politics, corruption, nepotism, toadyism, bribery, and blackmail, Red Meat Cures Cancer is a veritable primer of political incorrectness.

Raunchy, risque, and ribald, this ribbing of American pop culture is a comic romp--a hoot, a howl, a sidesplitting takeoff. If Starbuck O'Dwyer's novel doesn't make you laugh hysterically, you don't have a funny bone in your body.

Red Meat Cures Cancer, however, is more than slapstick comedy. There's also a serious leitmotif here of pathos and tragedy. Commenting on the sad state of American culture, O'Dwyer opines that the false idols of money, fame, power and youth thrive because of the perceived void of worthier things to believe in.

"Life, I'd learned," says Sky, "is just one big accumulation of wounds. Now I needed time to heal." Apparently, O'Dwyer is saying that we are fortunate if, in the end, we have found more joy in life than woe.

A well-crafted book, Red Meat Cures Cancer moves briskly; its characters, dialogue, and story line snap, crackle, and pop--like juicy burgers sizzling on a red-hot grill. Starbuck O'Dwyer has written a winner.

Starbuck O'Dwyer is a graduate of Princeton, Oxford, and Cornell Universities. Originally from Rochester, New York, he now lives near Washington, D.C. You can visit his website ...

Roy E. Perry of Nolensville is an amateur philosopher, Civil War buff, chess enthusiast, classical music lover, and aficionado of fine literature. He is an advertising copywriter at a Nashville Publishing House.