ERIC
COSMIC BANDITOS
A.C. Weisbecker
Great literature? No. Not as such. The author is himself perplexed by the havoc he has wreaked, variously describing his work as Crime and Punishment, without the punishment, or even better, a postmodern pulp "tzeuberg." Whatever the hell that is. And he spend a goodly amount of time hawking the work in footnotes (which, it must be said, either annoy or intrigue) and trying to recoup the lousy deal he negotiated when he was a starving spaced-out Californ-aye-eh wastrel during the 70s and didn't know better.
Which is, essentially, the story of the book. It "lay dormant" (his words) for much of its history, until recently resurfacing as a more than adequate chronicling of the zeitgeist of that era (I love it when I can use that word, and also "tzeuberg" for that matter, in the same review. Brilliant!) Somehow it got a second breath, however. Not really a breath. More like a long toke of a spliff, punctuated by random mutterings about quantum physics, drug smuggling, cartoon characters morphing into novel characters,and...of course (OF COURSE!) the eponymous banditos.
Allow me to digress. In 1976 me and a mate did an epic six week trip from Italy to Egypt to Greece, seeing the Brigate Rosse riots in Rome, the food riots in Cairo, and arriving in Syntagma Square in Athens for Greek National Day, replete with tanks and flybys. Seeking cheap accommodation, we happened upon a large American Hippie with a capital H, long blondish hair, a huge walrus moustache, and faraway (very faraway) eyes. After digesting his considered response, we continued on with the usual niceties. Where are you from? I asked. Cosmos, he replied. Cosmos? I queried (I had heard of Ios, Paros, Naxos...so maybe I was ignorant of yet another Greek island). How long have you been there? He looked up. Well, in reality, man... all my life, but like, when I was a baby in my crib, all I knew was the ceiling of my room, but now I am conscious of the whole cosmos around me, man....nodding his head in agreement with himself.
Uh....ok...well good luck! as we beat a hasty retreat.
My point? There were a lot of people in the 70s like good ol' A.C. He just wrote it down.
So back to my review. It ain't great literature, but it is an enjoyable romp. Like someone said about particle physics in one of the footnotes (and I reiterate, there are a lot of them): The worldview of particle physics is a picture of chaos beneath order. Indeed.
Is it believable? Who cares? Did I laugh? You bet? To the boo-bears in the group who panned this (and it split the group pretty evenly), I merely pass on another quote from Neils Bohr to Einstein re: Quantum Physics: You are not thinking. You are merely being logical.
I learned something from this book. I am not quite sure what, but one day whilst rummaging through the attic of my cluttered brain, I just might find some nugget....a quote...an image from this nonsensical work, some quanta....smile, and think the whole exercise quite worthwhile, thank you very much.
Then again. Maybe not.
Exactly.
FOUR STARS (JUST BECAUSE)
TOM'S REVIEW
COSMIC BANDITOS
A.C. Weisbecker
Great literature? No. Not as such. The author is himself perplexed by the havoc he has wreaked, variously describing his work as Crime and Punishment, without the punishment, or even better, a postmodern pulp "tzeuberg." Whatever the hell that is. And he spend a goodly amount of time hawking the work in footnotes (which, it must be said, either annoy or intrigue) and trying to recoup the lousy deal he negotiated when he was a starving spaced-out Californ-aye-eh wastrel during the 70s and didn't know better.
Which is, essentially, the story of the book. It "lay dormant" (his words) for much of its history, until recently resurfacing as a more than adequate chronicling of the zeitgeist of that era (I love it when I can use that word, and also "tzeuberg" for that matter, in the same review. Brilliant!) Somehow it got a second breath, however. Not really a breath. More like a long toke of a spliff, punctuated by random mutterings about quantum physics, drug smuggling, cartoon characters morphing into novel characters,and...of course (OF COURSE!) the eponymous banditos.
Allow me to digress. In 1976 me and a mate did an epic six week trip from Italy to Egypt to Greece, seeing the Brigate Rosse riots in Rome, the food riots in Cairo, and arriving in Syntagma Square in Athens for Greek National Day, replete with tanks and flybys. Seeking cheap accommodation, we happened upon a large American Hippie with a capital H, long blondish hair, a huge walrus moustache, and faraway (very faraway) eyes. After digesting his considered response, we continued on with the usual niceties. Where are you from? I asked. Cosmos, he replied. Cosmos? I queried (I had heard of Ios, Paros, Naxos...so maybe I was ignorant of yet another Greek island). How long have you been there? He looked up. Well, in reality, man... all my life, but like, when I was a baby in my crib, all I knew was the ceiling of my room, but now I am conscious of the whole cosmos around me, man....nodding his head in agreement with himself.
Uh....ok...well good luck! as we beat a hasty retreat.
My point? There were a lot of people in the 70s like good ol' A.C. He just wrote it down.
So back to my review. It ain't great literature, but it is an enjoyable romp. Like someone said about particle physics in one of the footnotes (and I reiterate, there are a lot of them): The worldview of particle physics is a picture of chaos beneath order. Indeed.
Is it believable? Who cares? Did I laugh? You bet? To the boo-bears in the group who panned this (and it split the group pretty evenly), I merely pass on another quote from Neils Bohr to Einstein re: Quantum Physics: You are not thinking. You are merely being logical.
I learned something from this book. I am not quite sure what, but one day whilst rummaging through the attic of my cluttered brain, I just might find some nugget....a quote...an image from this nonsensical work, some quanta....smile, and think the whole exercise quite worthwhile, thank you very much.
Then again. Maybe not.
Exactly.
FOUR STARS (JUST BECAUSE)
TOM'S REVIEW
A cult fave in the tradition of Rocky Horror, Hitchhiker's Guide and Mrs. Brown's Boys from a guy who wrote for Disney Inc., on which he has the churlish gall to turn in the Preface, even though it provided him with the stable income he admits this book did not. I laughed once, because "molybdenum" is a word that always makes me laugh, like "gingivitis" or "styptic." It may not be the best book in the JFDI pantheon but it has spawned a book club embrace of Mexican tipple. The last time I drank Mescal was at the top of San Marcos Pass in Cold Springs Tavern in 1976 and I sure don't remember it tasting like the fine example of the spirit Joe's daughter Katie gave him at Christmas and he served tonight. It went down smooth like a rhapsody with a hint of peat. Joe went on Google to report on the source of the drink. Based on the piss I just took, I swear it must be Spanish for "Overripe Asparagus," but that won't keep me from drinking it again the next time we have a JFDI meeting at Joe's house. And that's why I'm giving COSMIC BANDITOS... ONE STAR / FIVE SHOTS
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