What do you think?
Rate this book
NYPD 2025
In a Manhattan of the near future, a special law enforcement unit is created to cope with the wave of anarchy and crime that has engulfed the streets of the city
- GenresScience Fiction
185 pages, Mass Market Paperback
Published January 1, 1985
1 person is currently reading
42 people want to read
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews
March 7, 2012
Wow, it's been far too long since I read some good pulpy right-wing fiction. This is fun, gory stuff, inspired and creative and totally ridiculous.
After a slow start, in which our bloodthirsty, ex-Ranger hero "Zack" escapes a gang of Hollywood types with the help of outlaw cops wearing masks portraying a variety of stereotypes and spends far too many chapters trying to cross a ledge, this book really boils up into some bizarre, gory imagery.
Apparently, 13 years from now we're going to elect a "Mahatma" Buchanan to for-life presidency, and he and his Green Party (yes!) are going to replace the Constitution with the Human Rights and Political Understanding Statement. While the Mahatma spends all his time meditating in his ashram, the rest of the United States is literally run by criminals, who's civil rights are held above all others, and whose "victimless" crimes control the government.
The ACLU "declared themselves dissolved with the coronation of President Buchanan, stating that the civil liberties of the people of the United States were totally safe in his hands," explains the leggy judge in charge of the outlaw Combat Operations Police that want's Zack to join them, under the moniker Captain Death. Their enemies include the Luddites, who have forced America to go back to a fuel-based energy source which causes a cancerous "smudge" to engulf all of New York City, and the Lemmings, who hate human beings on principle and want to eradicate our species from the planet. It's a world of news-rock and rock-gospel preachers, a world where there's no more immigration because there's no more illegal aliens, where fedora-wearing Drug Lord Enforcement Agents prowl the streets with the blessing of the govermnet.
Yeah, it's a sick world our bloodthirsty ex-Ranger has returned to, after serving his country against its will in countless wars in South America. But things really take a turn for the wacky when it's revealed the main source of entertainment in this liberal future-world: snuffporn "solidios" that show nubile preteens being slaughtered by a maniac creatively called "the Slasher." The combination of gritty, 80's future new york and the 80's craze for slasher films is truly ingenious, and Stryker-nee-Smith's portrayel of these programmes is one of the weirdest, creepiest and funniest things I've read in a while:
"The settings is the beautiful resort city of Agana, Guam, where our heoinre, Foxxy van Pelt, everybody's subteen wet-dream girl, has fled with Lady Linda, her gorgeous cafe-au-lait player, and her delicious, delectable blood-filled friend, Sissy Amber. As our participants will remember... have come to Agana to escape the Slasher of Slaughter Gulch, who has dismembered thirty-five victims so far in his demonic search for Foxxy. Will our three friends escape him once again? Watch... listen... feel!"
After having virtual sex with any solidio-viewers watching, Sissy Amber, the victim of this particular snuff-solidio, is dismembered by the arab-themed Slasher in jaw-dropping gory detail:
"With a screech of sadistic joy, the Slasher bounded at Sissy, the kris cutting down through the sequined T-shirt, slitting it neatly in two. It fell from her body, revealing her heaving breasts and a brightening streak of blood from neckline to navel.
The shock of the actual attack brought Sissy out of her trance and, sobbing with fear, she darted for the door. She didn't make it. The kris leaped out again, slicing down the twin back seams of her red evening shorts. They too dropped off, to show her snow-white buttocks also streaked with blood...
The now naked girl turned to face her attacker, and the Slasher crowed triumphantly and brought the scimitar into play, striking so quickly that the movement was difficult to follow. What it accomplished was not. Although used to brutality and mayhem, Zack almost gagged as the nippled half of each breast fell outward to plop wetly on the floor, leaving the stumps spouting blood like twin fountains. Sissy stared down at them in shock, swaying as though about to faint...
Sissy sank to her knees, clasping her arms across her mutilated chest while the Slasher, chortling happily and prancing like a pleased child, prepared to strike again. This time the expertly wielded scimatar came down at an angle, missing the flat belly and upper thights, to shear off the pubic hair and the soft, rounded mound from which it grew. Sissy bend lower as fresh geysers of blood spouted from her groin..."
It goes on but, well, you get the idea. And the whole thing is popular and legal because it's "constitutionally protected as a form of self-expression."
I don't know why the author has such a vendetta against performance artists but he certainly does, and finding the Slasher and his identity become the main plot of this book (first in a proposed series) after a course. Zack/Captain Death goes "undercover" as a solidio-extra, but the subtlety of that situation doesn't last long as he's soon rescuing airheaded Foxxy from the Slasher's fan club (no joke) and a variety of other faceless goons and adversaries. The half-assed murder-mystery plot is a welcome inclusion in a short book already brimming with excess zaniness, such as a two-headed, four-armed, tri-sexed Android named Andy Jumbles and "Mars Bombs," a liquor distilled from a fungus found only in the polar areas of Mars.
Zack isn't the most charismatic hero (his idea of a snappy one-liner is "I forgot to tell you I'm just as good left-handed with a Bowie knife as right-handed, and that the Bowie knife is a stabbing as well as slashing weapon like your scimitar.") But I feel like I would definitively read other books in this series, if only to see the FuManchu, Whitefaced, and Keystone Kop-masked COPS in action.
PS
This is the FOURTH book in a row now I've read that includes ample scenes of vomiting. Gross!
PPS
I actually had to look up quite a lot of words used in here:
quisling
caber-throwing
joss
hoyden
doxy
After a slow start, in which our bloodthirsty, ex-Ranger hero "Zack" escapes a gang of Hollywood types with the help of outlaw cops wearing masks portraying a variety of stereotypes and spends far too many chapters trying to cross a ledge, this book really boils up into some bizarre, gory imagery.
Apparently, 13 years from now we're going to elect a "Mahatma" Buchanan to for-life presidency, and he and his Green Party (yes!) are going to replace the Constitution with the Human Rights and Political Understanding Statement. While the Mahatma spends all his time meditating in his ashram, the rest of the United States is literally run by criminals, who's civil rights are held above all others, and whose "victimless" crimes control the government.
The ACLU "declared themselves dissolved with the coronation of President Buchanan, stating that the civil liberties of the people of the United States were totally safe in his hands," explains the leggy judge in charge of the outlaw Combat Operations Police that want's Zack to join them, under the moniker Captain Death. Their enemies include the Luddites, who have forced America to go back to a fuel-based energy source which causes a cancerous "smudge" to engulf all of New York City, and the Lemmings, who hate human beings on principle and want to eradicate our species from the planet. It's a world of news-rock and rock-gospel preachers, a world where there's no more immigration because there's no more illegal aliens, where fedora-wearing Drug Lord Enforcement Agents prowl the streets with the blessing of the govermnet.
Yeah, it's a sick world our bloodthirsty ex-Ranger has returned to, after serving his country against its will in countless wars in South America. But things really take a turn for the wacky when it's revealed the main source of entertainment in this liberal future-world: snuffporn "solidios" that show nubile preteens being slaughtered by a maniac creatively called "the Slasher." The combination of gritty, 80's future new york and the 80's craze for slasher films is truly ingenious, and Stryker-nee-Smith's portrayel of these programmes is one of the weirdest, creepiest and funniest things I've read in a while:
"The settings is the beautiful resort city of Agana, Guam, where our heoinre, Foxxy van Pelt, everybody's subteen wet-dream girl, has fled with Lady Linda, her gorgeous cafe-au-lait player, and her delicious, delectable blood-filled friend, Sissy Amber. As our participants will remember... have come to Agana to escape the Slasher of Slaughter Gulch, who has dismembered thirty-five victims so far in his demonic search for Foxxy. Will our three friends escape him once again? Watch... listen... feel!"
After having virtual sex with any solidio-viewers watching, Sissy Amber, the victim of this particular snuff-solidio, is dismembered by the arab-themed Slasher in jaw-dropping gory detail:
"With a screech of sadistic joy, the Slasher bounded at Sissy, the kris cutting down through the sequined T-shirt, slitting it neatly in two. It fell from her body, revealing her heaving breasts and a brightening streak of blood from neckline to navel.
The shock of the actual attack brought Sissy out of her trance and, sobbing with fear, she darted for the door. She didn't make it. The kris leaped out again, slicing down the twin back seams of her red evening shorts. They too dropped off, to show her snow-white buttocks also streaked with blood...
The now naked girl turned to face her attacker, and the Slasher crowed triumphantly and brought the scimitar into play, striking so quickly that the movement was difficult to follow. What it accomplished was not. Although used to brutality and mayhem, Zack almost gagged as the nippled half of each breast fell outward to plop wetly on the floor, leaving the stumps spouting blood like twin fountains. Sissy stared down at them in shock, swaying as though about to faint...
Sissy sank to her knees, clasping her arms across her mutilated chest while the Slasher, chortling happily and prancing like a pleased child, prepared to strike again. This time the expertly wielded scimatar came down at an angle, missing the flat belly and upper thights, to shear off the pubic hair and the soft, rounded mound from which it grew. Sissy bend lower as fresh geysers of blood spouted from her groin..."
It goes on but, well, you get the idea. And the whole thing is popular and legal because it's "constitutionally protected as a form of self-expression."
I don't know why the author has such a vendetta against performance artists but he certainly does, and finding the Slasher and his identity become the main plot of this book (first in a proposed series) after a course. Zack/Captain Death goes "undercover" as a solidio-extra, but the subtlety of that situation doesn't last long as he's soon rescuing airheaded Foxxy from the Slasher's fan club (no joke) and a variety of other faceless goons and adversaries. The half-assed murder-mystery plot is a welcome inclusion in a short book already brimming with excess zaniness, such as a two-headed, four-armed, tri-sexed Android named Andy Jumbles and "Mars Bombs," a liquor distilled from a fungus found only in the polar areas of Mars.
Zack isn't the most charismatic hero (his idea of a snappy one-liner is "I forgot to tell you I'm just as good left-handed with a Bowie knife as right-handed, and that the Bowie knife is a stabbing as well as slashing weapon like your scimitar.") But I feel like I would definitively read other books in this series, if only to see the FuManchu, Whitefaced, and Keystone Kop-masked COPS in action.
PS
This is the FOURTH book in a row now I've read that includes ample scenes of vomiting. Gross!
PPS
I actually had to look up quite a lot of words used in here:
quisling
caber-throwing
joss
hoyden
doxy
January 24, 2009
Exactly the kind of book you would expect from a guy with the excellent name Hal Stryker. He wrote this book while shooting bad guys from his 'Vette. I've read worse, though.
January 29, 2018
Rampant misogyny, sexism, and blood.
May 26, 2025
Book equivalent of a B-Movie. Unadulterated fun. Apparently intended as the first of a series. It's a shame that Mr. Stryker died before he could write more material in this universe.
July 29, 2011
Wow, this book is truly awful. Unless you have nothing else to read, please do not pick up this book. The author should be banned from ever picking up a pen or using a typewriter or a computer keyboard again. The editor of this book (if there is one) should quite and go flip burgers as they are obviously very bad at selecting decent works worth the cost of a print run.
DO. NOT. READ. THIS. BOOK.
You have been warned.
DO. NOT. READ. THIS. BOOK.
You have been warned.
February 19, 2016
This science fiction novel reads as if it were a Marvel comic book written entirely in text. For a change of pace, this novel served this purpose better than others. The title does not come close, though, to the illustrating the underlying thread of this story, i.e. (to paraphrase a more familiar quote) that freedom corrupts, and absolute freedom corrupts absolutely.
May 25, 2011
For me it was so uselessly graphic. I was glad when I get it done.
Displaying 1 - 7 of 7 reviews