I thought everybody knew this already:

N+1 expresses a well-understood truth about Judd Apatow:

All the while [Judd Apatow's champions] miss the simple moving force behind the gratuitous cameos, the accumulating in-jokes, the repeated casting of the director’s wife, children, and friends, and the constant carping about aging in Apatow’s films; they miss all the vanity. He is allowed this vanity because he delivers a message Americans crave to hear. As long as you behave yourself, take on a modicum of responsibility, and wear the yoke of commitment, it is entirely acceptable—even preferable and profitable—to be stupid.

Dear Furries: Please, PLEASE stop giving Lisanne Norman money.

Dear Furries:

Look, I know you all love Lisanne Norman. She gave you something that had been sorely missing from your life: a commercially viable book series featuring hot, sexy catboys. Turning Point was a good effort for a first-time author, truly, and I enjoyed it, as well as the sequel, Fortune's Wheel, but by the time we'd gotten to The Fire Margins we were into "A word processor does to words what a food processor does to food" territory. Every bad genre and trope rose and fell in those books, continuity depended upon a tragically battered suspension of disbelief, the villains twirled their reptilian mustaches. By the time we'd gotten to Dark Nadir I'd swear we were on the verge of seeing someone throw a Pokéball out.

I just saw that there's a new book out. And in keeping with the blender trope, there's a goddamn mecha on the cover. Not just any mecha, but a mecha with a cat's head! Behind a gangplank with character poses plagarized from any number of bad anime.

Please, do us all a favor: convince Lisanne to write something else. Anything else. This cliché ridden series just has to end. Really.

Everyone in Silico, by Jim Munroe

Jim Munroe's Everyone in Silico is a near-future (2036) posthuman book with a very dark premise: uploading of human consciousness has been acheived, but the company responsible for it (Self, a subsidiary of Microsoft) has created a very boring multi-user environment almost completely like the real world. People don't like change, the theory goes: they'll only accept uploading if the virtual world is like the real world, only moreso.

The real world of 2036 is pretty sad. Corporations have dissolved government and now practice detenté with each other. There are special agents who wear warsuits that cause premature aging, and companies use these agents against each other and "rogue governments" (meaning: any government). Goverment is an inefficient drag on the market, and must be eliminated. The year of 2036 is pretty telling to; it's the 150th anniversary of the assumption that corporations had all the rights of individuals, but few of the responsibilities.

The book follows three people: Doug, a "coolhunter" who's worried that he's losing it as he gets older; Nicky, a genehacker who makes custom pets in a world that no longer needs genehacking, now that uploading is the new thing; and Eileen, a former special agent whose 12-year-old son disappeared and seems to have been uploaded into Self.

The "people don't like change" meme is battered heavily toward the end of the book, especially with the description of the "foyer" of the Self universe. Also, inside Self, people don't need to sleep, but they do need jobs; the replication is so significant that only the economically disjunct don't need to do "information work." Everybody else is a knowledge worker despite there obviously being an AI system strong enough that no such work is needed.

The book drags for the first half or so as Munroe gets his pieces into place, unmasks the shadowy hero manipulating them, and reaches a reasonably satisfying climax toward the end.

What I liked about the book is that the characters all feel there's something fundamentally wrong with a "virtual" existence, either in the real world or in silico. But being an uploaded person doesn't make your experiences in the virtual world inauthentic; what makes something inauthentic is when other people choose for you the experiences you're having, or you opt for a shoddier existence knowing there's a vibrant alternative. "Self" isn't shoddier than the real world; knowing that Self is a corporate entity within which you have no rights whatsoever, however distant and pretty the bars on the cage may be, makes it a shoddier existence.

The book is a Statement On Corporatism, so the book is littered with cynical statements about brands: Coke, KFC, Microsoft, Nike, etc. etc. come in for some very heavy bashing. And the shadowy hero is very much the Voice of the Author. Munroe does a good job of slipping his opinions into the story, but it's obvious when he's doing so.

But for a book like this, that's not a bad thing. We come to care about Doug and his existential angst, and we care about Nicky and Eileen, and hope for the best. It's a suprisingly humane and inviting story, for all the grimness going on. The book ends with a satisfying if vague, happy ending. I highly recommend it. And it's available free.