zombie apocalypse now. i like when a writer takes the risks, switches it up. like his contemporary chuck palahniuk (one or both of them might kill me for saying that), his latest novel is gulping some haterade on hope. a comment on the obama generation? maybe. whatever the case, i was mostly not afraid to read this, except my parka hanging in my peripheral vision outright terrified me at least twice during the pulling of these passages. (sigh).
“He could not die. Two more creatures tumbled to the asphalt, their craniums disintegrated. Beauty could not thrive, and the awful was too commonplace to be of consequence. Only in the middle was there safety.
He was a mediocre man. He had led a mediocre life exceptional only in the magnitude of its unexceptionality. Now the world was mediocre, rendering him perfect. He asked himself: How can I die? I was always like this. Now I am more me. He had the ammo. He took them all down.” (148)
“It wasn’t the worst job he’d ever had. He was working there when Last Night slammed down, scratching at his law-exam-prep notebooks at night in the rec room. The New York headquarters of the coffee company was is Chelsea, a mile and a half past the wall. He could only speculate about who had made it out and who still roamed the halls. His social-media persona probably continued to punch the clock, gossiping with the empty air and spell-checking faux-friendly compositions, hitting Send. ‘Nothing cures the Just Got Exsanguinated Blues like a foam mustache, IMHO.’ ‘Sucks that the funeral pyre is so early in the morning-why don’t you grab a large Sumatra so you can stay awake when you toss your grandma in? Wouldn’t want to sleep through that, LOL!’” (151)
brilliant comment on apathy.
“Buzzwords had returned, and what greater proof of the rejuvenation of the world, the return to Eden, than a new buzzword emerging from the dirt to tilt its petals to the zeitgeist.” (53)