I came to this little gem via Amazon.com's personalization algorithms, which suggested it, given that I'd recently reviewed
The Baby Jesus Butt Plug. Well, yeah, the two kind of go together. As soon as I saw the title, I just had to read it, no way around it. Good or bad, I had to see what was inside.
So, you've got three stories here:
1. A corporate IT puke who wants more impressive, ahem, personal hardware, sets in motion a Jekyll-and-Hyde tale that ends in a Godzillian phallocentric apocalypse. It doubles as a highly indulgent tale of the unsung IT hero. There are plenty of arcane sysadmin terms, but knowledge of them is not needed to ascertain that our hero, despite the critical flaw of desperately wanting more man-package, is one electron-jamming wondernerd.
2. A highly graphic colo-rectal
Fantastic Voyage, complete with lust, mystery, monsters, intrigue, and military operations (not necessarily in that order).
3. A post-apocalyptic fantasy involving life, love, and longing, all taking place in a world covered in dooky, where it rains from the sky, and the oceans are nothing but.
No, I'm not kidding.
The irony of the first story: biological terrorists unleashing their horror on the world use the immensely inspired vector of men wanting bigger personal plumbing. Gosh, viruses spread by male enhancement come-ons? We're living this already.
The irony of the second story: if such shrinking technology were available, in such an environment, it is not the least bit unreasonable to think that every single one of the manipulative, exploitive elements portrayed in this story would show up to do what they do best, for no one's good but their own.
The irony of the third story: well, you've kind of got me there. And there are pirates and battling!
All in all, this book wasn't nearly as bad as I assumed it would be. All three stories surprised me with depth of character and story, and some good turns of phrase: "...a new era of peace and genital pride dawns...;" "the porn...must flow...;" "...but this rectum needed us. How could we refuse?" among many other jewels, most of them unavailable for inclusion in this venue. Strangely enough, and this is a compliment: man, could I smell the worlds Hansen has created here. I could see them pretty clearly, but more than anything I registered smell. The venues are uniformly unpleasant, and I really did feel better after showering when I read these stories.
As for this being satire, yeah, I can see that. Nike sure does get a grilling, as does the media, personal and corporate greed, lust for fame, vanity, the need for personal possessions, sacrificing innocents for scientific glory, and a whole lot more. Hiltons and Trumps get it pretty good, too (no relation to persons living or dead, of course).
The book read quickly, its 217 pages done in just a couple of hours. A little treasure at the back of this Eraserhead Press release is twelve pages devoted entirely to bizarre fiction. Hoo, buddy, there are some way-out titles here...I think I'll probably order one or two.
Bottom line: this book isn't going to work for most readers, well, for almost all readers. The subject matter is most decidedly adult. While the settings and action are all decidedly unpleasant, there is humor, and the dulled sheen of intellect can be seen through the muck. This is not Milton or Dante, but essentially you're getting the same stories.