Oppression will always inevitably be rebelled against, but the perfect climate of disenfranchisement fosters only apathy, a primordial soup from which nothing can sprout.
"Makeshift Minds" by Daniel J. Reeves follows the really bizarre kind-of-but-maybe-not-quite zombie first tome with all new weirdness, all the time (with apologies to any advertisers from whom I may have stolen that catchphrase). There's a new pandemic, a genuinely spooky murder mystery in space, body-snatching androids and more! And I think I can say without fear of contradiction that this may be one of the 3 or 4 absolutely weirdest books I've ever read in my life, let alone since the days I've been required to take mood-altering medication!
Her stomach grumbled like a teenager told to rinse off soap suds.
However, I should point out there's a good chance that none of these assessments are accurate. I may in fact merely be 'performing' this review as part of a diabolic semi-corporate plan for global domination! I mean, good gravy where are the forces for good (+/-) from Placeholder when you need them? Oh wait, here they come. And while we're being honest (were we?), I have to confess: at the end of the day, I truly have no bloody clue what this book was about! It was fun, yes, and had umpteen (hint: that's a lot!) of imminently quotable bits scattered throughout. But in terms of being able to explain what I've just finished reading? Um, pass.
A police vehicle passed him, incessantly whining and smearing around primary colours like a toddler set loose on a colour book.
Whereas we don't have perhaps the same fully-formed and complex collection of characters as we did in Book 1, I will say that this is perhaps a better written book. Kindly note though that I'm still trying to decide why that is exactly. There is ever so much intrique going on and certainly up to the (checks Kindle Reader quickly) exactly halfway mark, I didn't have a clue as to what was happening. Nor why. Which was again one of the draws of the first book. Oh and now that I'm finished, I can confirm none of this got better and even began to burn and itch like some kind of mysterious rash.
It’s basically a cult, but without the group sex.
If you're looking for a story that picks up just where we last left off, well, you're stuff out of luck. Even barely three months away - that's in literary time by the way - from that sordid tale of a zombie outbreak (among other issues) and subsequent quarantine, things are more than askew in this world. Yes, our semi-main protagonist Dude is back, apparently fully cured. But between having his apartment destroyed by a flying spaceship - well, technically a crashing spaceship - and getting a job in a company that does… things… we're not really sure what other role(s) he is supposed to be playing. He does save the day as it were. I think. At least indirectly he is vaguely involved with acts that could be construed as 'day saving operations'. Better? No.
This is like a TED talk for killing yourself.
Oh and that mentioned spaceship? Well, let me just point out that all the space related bits appear in a bizarre set of bursts of information, with the main players from same appearing almost at random throughout the book and, well, time. Seriously, what is up with this fellow Scrimshaw anyway? No, don't bother using the search feature to try and establish his origins or connections, he's just THERE. And over there, too! Still, this whole part of the plot is like the movie "Clue" somehow combined with "Alien" along with a dash of maybe, I dunno, "Hunger Games"? Or should we substitute in "Aliens" instead because, you know, "we're all gonna die, man!" And a rap star is involved along the way which makes it all really, really timely. If only I ever listened to rap, even that might have made sense!
Declare, in the most bold voice your prepubescent bowels can muster: I do not want to be a fucking astronaut.
It is good fun though. Take some aspirin first and enjoy! And good luck!