Orbo and the Godhead, by Luke Delin

Great, another summary right here on the page. This one clearly was written by the author. You can tell because he can’t stop writing fiction. Not that what he writes is untrue, but his fictionality can’t be turned off, like he and every prognostacating humanist author, most writing sci-fi dystopian novels, have feared since coal was pretty enough to eat or was all there was to eat. Not so wild that Luke Delin is from England. And he won’t ever turn it off because he has intuited that such would be the end, the very end. Like of course it will be, and sooner for the very fact that no one is running that show anymore, the lithium is junk juice, the system runs on thorazine, and that last thought you had you thought might have been your last one? Nah, you’re just feeling hungover from nostalgia for oxygen.

Look out readers: the young writers are scared and dangerous from lack of momentum to crawl out of the cloud of nitrous oxide. Cloud? What do you mean cloud?…oh shit.

Review by LS Popovich

A fascinating and powerful book by an as-yet largely unread author. One of Mr. Delin's many talents is striking word choice. Several times per page, I believe most readers will quirk a smile, or at least appreciate a clever turn of phrase. The book is highly clever, in myriad ways.

Many humorous and disturbing moments combine in an unconventional way to form a webwork of strange characters whose bizarre behavior coalesces in a pseudo conspiracy involving a spa, mind-augmentation, "constitutionally loco" glue, and several other eyebrow-raising phenomena. The writing is reminiscent of early Pynchon, littered with Britishisms, but dryly hilarious and innovative on every level.

Entertaining to the max, but possessing an aimless quality in the first half, before literary neurons connect to the reader's greater awareness. Mildly mind-altering, this novel will easily impress any fan of sleek soft-dystopian social commentary.