Sandra-Vey

A messy yet thoroughly satisfying romp through a wonderfully deranged reality tunnel from the pen of Zak Ferguson. Like all the best stuff, it’s hard to describe it in a way that would do it justice. Let’s say it’s a welcome dose of day-glo in a literary world inhabited primarily (these days) by beige fiction.Comparisons are odious, but often unavoidable - so let’s say this is like Phillip K Dick at his best (if Dick used words like ‘spazz-wazzard’) or the Illuminatus trilogy by robert Anton Wilson rewritten by the staff at Viz magazine. In the middle of all the derangement-of-the-senses, the protagonist manages to talk more sense about our current human situation than a finnicking of phony philosophers, and manages to avoid using pomo gibberish terminology to boot.