Night of the Assholes [Paperback]

This book is hilarious and frighteningly spot-on. One has to wonder if Donihe just walked into a crowd of people and wrote about what he saw, because I frickin' feel like the a**holes from Donihe's book are more often than not all around me. Perhaps that's the point.

This is Kevin L Donihe's latest Bizarro masterwork, and it's just as good as his last (and the one before that), if not better. I know that when a new Donihe book comes out, I'm gonna have fun.

The book, if you haven't already figured it out, is a parody of 'Night of the Living Dead'. Except instead of people turning into zombies, people are turning into total a**holes. And not just becoming mean- we've got Hare Krishnas morphing into drunken British rugby fans. And an excessive amount of cheerleaders. The only way to change into an a**hole yourself- by being an a**hole TO an a**hole. Hence the major predicament of our main character: Barbara (like in the movie). However in Donihe's book she's a chain-smoking woman with anger management issues. She's running out of cigarettes, and running out of her happy-pills.

Which is a perfect set up for tense hilarity.

Add in some other super-normal people (meaning: these people could SO exist, but they're so over the top you're left scratching your head), and you've got the base of a Donihe-style comedic Bizarro gem.

HIGHLY recommended- I LOVED this book!!

Ever watch The Jersey Shore? Did it make you feel like boarding up your windows? Did it make you cry a little for the future? Maybe I'm just paranoid. Maybe it's okay for us to live in a world of anger, incivility and raging ids. Kevin Donihe doesn't think so. Zombies can be scary, sure, but there's something really scary in the person who's mean at you for no reason, the person who's contentious about everything and the person who just won't let you be. Compared to these critters, zombies are a cakewalk. This book deals with what would happen if all of society became this uncivil, if there were no place to turn to escape from one's irritants. The protagonist is going through anger management and it seems like the world is testing her by turning every person she meets into a mean spirited piece of human garbage. And she has seen that by sinking to their level, people turn into them, joining the rampaging hordes of the uncivil. Donihe makes a satirical, but deadly serious inquiry into what we can do as people start to lower their standards of behavior, education, rhetoric and humanity. Is there any way to resist the growing tide of random cruelty and unbridled ignorance? Read this book and think about it, think about the irritating people in your day to day life, think about how you treat others and how you would like to be treated and think about what you can do to make the future a little more civil. Moral fiction that's laughout loud funny. We don't see much of that.

I've spent most of my life in New Jersey, so I've probably encountered every type of a--hole at least twice. Yeah, yeah, you all think you know something about something thanks to the intellectual wasteland of "The Jersey Shore" but that's just scratching the surface. Try venturing inland and bearing witness to our impressive array of disgruntled Philly rejects and self-entitled soccer moms who can't believe that a stranger had the audacity to not find it, like, utterly charming when their undisciplined rugrats turn a grocery store into a playground.

To survive in the self-proclaimed armpit of America, I've had to do as the a--holes do and adopt a few of their tactics. What I've learned is that the best weapon in the war against a--holes is plastering on a big, unwavering smile and killin' 'em all with a sickeningly sweet kindness that just won't quit.

The few "normal" people swimming against the surging tide of a--holes in NotA cling to the same arsenal of impregnable politeness, and also any umbrella, pole, stick or anally penetrating weaponry within grabbing range. Because when the a--holes spill from the local mall to congregate around the farmhouse in which a small cluster of survivors seek refuge, one cannot simply exchange barbs or blows with the masses of asses: To sink to their level is to become one of them. You can grin and bear it, or you can stake an a--hole in the a--hole and know that you did your part to make the world a better place. You know, if it mattered.

Is this starting to sound like a variation on the zombie theme? It probably should, as the book openly takes its inspiration from George A. Romero's "Night of the Living Dead." For people like me -- those weirdos who've had zombie-apocalypse survival strategies and go-bags at the ready for years -- the shuffling undead just aren't that scary anymore. But a legion of a--holes? You're not just one among a dwindling herd of fresh brains: You're a target, and it's personal. They'll taunt you, pry the layers of boards off your windows, stuff a hot dog down your throat 'til you've choked, or charge your shelter with a fleet of molester vans just to hack away at the civility you're desperately trying to maintain for the sake of your humanity. Or, y'know, they'll just as soon kill you in the most demeaning way possible and rejoice that their laughter is the last thing you'll hear as your life seeps away. Because that's how a--holes roll. At least zombies are limited in both methods of attack and motivation. A--holes dedicate their entire being to ruining yours and will keep plotting until they've won.

And, oh my God, are the a--holes ever on parade in this book. If the barrage of high-octane jerks in the first 30 pages don't make you hate humanity even more than you usually do during your rush-hour commute home, then you're a better person than I am: The onslaught of persistent telemarketers, pushy salespeople, loudmouth racists, deliberately terrible drivers, stereotypically catty cheerleaders, ineffective mall-security stooges, and the holier-than-thou faux religious zealots had me seething with barely contained rage. Those kinds of people are insufferable on their own and in small doses -- never mind en masse. For the few times I had to put this book down in order to distance myself from the growing need to tell everyone within displacement range to eat me raw and like it, I couldn't leave it alone for more than a few minutes. The story is compelling -- how, or WILL, the non-a--holes free themselves? -- and the characters are so fully realized that you just have to root for them. Or root for them to meet with the kind of gruesome death you didn't know you could wish on another person, living or imaginary.

This is my introduction to Donihe's works, and it's my second helping of the bizarro genre: Reading NotA made me want more of both. Immediately. The story would be campy and artificial in a lesser writer's hands but Donihe deftly navigates his reader through the seemingly hopeless tale he's spun. And the writing is really, really good! I can't emphasize that enough. I am one of those people who gets hyper-involved in a story and can't help putting myself in the characters' shoes, but the way I started getting too irritated at some of the displays of a--holery featured in this book was on another level entirely -- and that's a testament to the talent that crafted the story, to make a reader feel what the characters are feeling. Barbara, the protagonist, struggles with anger issues all through the story, and I wished many, many times that she'd just admit defeat already and beat the bejeezus out of someone -- a--hole transformation be damned -- because that's what I wanted to do and I needed some catharsis: Luckily, when the a--holes get staked, it is satisfying in ways that should probably shame me.

In the end, I like to think that the moral of this story is that it's not enough to placidly tolerate the world's a--holes; you must kill them to fix the problem. And anything that can justify well-meaning but extreme measures is okay with me. It just helps that it's a mighty good read, too.