UFO conspiracy theories, delivered in red-alert tones by an atypical follower.
Vernon, in his debut, tells how his boyhood sighting of a “flying saucer” over his neighbor’s house led him on a lifelong quest into UFO encounters and shadowy government scheming.
The author provides a big-picture exegesis of UFO conspiracy theories, while weaving in his own personal story about being a reluctant “contactee.” A science (and science-fiction) buff as a youngster, he was stunned when one night in 1968, he saw a flying saucer up-close from his bedroom window—an uncanny thing, hovering over a nearby yard. Vernon then delved into ufology, and over the years, his everyday life took some twisted turns. For example, his work mate at a Florida psychic phone line diagnosed him as being a victim of secret, regular alien monitoring and experiments since his early childhood. At this point, Vernon shifts the focus away from the story of himself, setting aside an intriguing subtheme about his dawning realization of his sexuality. Instead, the book turns to the alarmist notions of would-be E.T.-hunters and whistle-blowers in the X-Files-ish ufology subculture. It supports a sinister thesis of terrestrial governments having “sold out” the human race to dissection-happy space creatures, in exchange for access to flying-disc technology (later tested at Area 51). The author helpfully evaluates books, videos and interviews with late-night paranormal-radio luminaries such as Stanton Friedman, Communion author Whitley Strieber, Linda Moulton Howe and famed, alleged abductee Travis Walton, usually approvingly. Interestingly, however, the author doesn’t uphold every UFO conspiracy theory, instead praising “healthy skepticism,” which is perhaps why some popular UFO-lit concepts, such as Bigfoot and the Men in Black, are conspicuously absent. He also delivers engaging, snappish callouts against unbelievers (he describes the late Carl Sagan as a “cobra,” for example), the faceless elites behind the “cover-up,” and a dumbed-down, apathetic public. At its best, it’s evocative of iconoclastic sci-fi author Harlan Ellison at his snarkiest.
UFO conspiracy theories, delivered in red-alert tones by an atypical follower.Pub Date: April 9, 2014
ISBN: 978-0991433513
Page Count: 462
Publisher: CreateSpace
Review Posted Online: Aug. 5, 2015
Review Program: Kirkus Indie
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular...
A neurosurgeon with a passion for literature tragically finds his perfect subject after his diagnosis of terminal lung cancer.
Writing isn’t brain surgery, but it’s rare when someone adept at the latter is also so accomplished at the former. Searching for meaning and purpose in his life, Kalanithi pursued a doctorate in literature and had felt certain that he wouldn’t enter the field of medicine, in which his father and other members of his family excelled. “But I couldn’t let go of the question,” he writes, after realizing that his goals “didn’t quite fit in an English department.” “Where did biology, morality, literature and philosophy intersect?” So he decided to set aside his doctoral dissertation and belatedly prepare for medical school, which “would allow me a chance to find answers that are not in books, to find a different sort of sublime, to forge relationships with the suffering, and to keep following the question of what makes human life meaningful, even in the face of death and decay.” The author’s empathy undoubtedly made him an exceptional doctor, and the precision of his prose—as well as the moral purpose underscoring it—suggests that he could have written a good book on any subject he chose. Part of what makes this book so essential is the fact that it was written under a death sentence following the diagnosis that upended his life, just as he was preparing to end his residency and attract offers at the top of his profession. Kalanithi learned he might have 10 years to live or perhaps five. Should he return to neurosurgery (he could and did), or should he write (he also did)? Should he and his wife have a baby? They did, eight months before he died, which was less than two years after the original diagnosis. “The fact of death is unsettling,” he understates. “Yet there is no other way to live.”
A moving meditation on mortality by a gifted writer whose dual perspectives of physician and patient provide a singular clarity.Pub Date: Jan. 19, 2016
ISBN: 978-0-8129-8840-6
Page Count: 248
Publisher: Random House
Review Posted Online: Sept. 29, 2015
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Oct. 15, 2015
PERSPECTIVES
This autobiography might almost be said to supply the roots to Wright's famous novel, Native Son.
It is a grim record, disturbing, the story of how — in one boy's life — the seeds of hate and distrust and race riots were planted. Wright was born to poverty and hardship in the deep south; his father deserted his mother, and circumstances and illness drove the little family from place to place, from degradation to degradation. And always, there was the thread of fear and hate and suspicion and discrimination — of white set against black — of black set against Jew — of intolerance. Driven to deceit, to dishonesty, ambition thwarted, motives impugned, Wright struggled against the tide, put by a tiny sum to move on, finally got to Chicago, and there — still against odds — pulled himself up, acquired some education through reading, allied himself with the Communists — only to be thrust out for non-conformity — and wrote continually. The whole tragedy of a race seems dramatized in this record; it is virtually unrelieved by any vestige of human tenderness, or humor; there are no bright spots. And yet it rings true. It is an unfinished story of a problem that has still to be met.
Perhaps this will force home unpalatable facts of a submerged minority, a problem far from being faced.
Pub Date: Feb. 28, 1945
ISBN: 0061130249
Page Count: 450
Publisher: N/A
Review Posted Online: Oct. 7, 2011
Kirkus Reviews Issue: Feb. 1, 1945
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