Complicity by Ian M Banks (1994)

I look through Iain Banks's non-Culture novels because I enjoy his prose. For me, this psychological thriller was somewhat of a disappointment because of its stark torture, rape, and murder scenes. Cameron Colley, hard-boiled, flawed journalist narrator, is extremely well-portrayed. Flashbacks and plot twists in the story probe societal rot: corruption festers in the UK media, politics, and greed of the 1980s. Second-person killer sequences blur guilt lines. Banks indicts the reader's complicity in systemic sins, forcing confrontation with vigilante justice ethics. Banks' prose is very good, but the violence is overwhelming. This one is not recommended. 2/5 stars.

Rewiring Democracy by Bruce Schneier and Nathan Sanders (2015)

I usually enjoy Bruce Schneier's books because they are clear, well-structured, and full of practical insight. Rewiring Democracy is no exception. The authors argue that artificial intelligence is not a radical break from existing technologies but rather a natural extension of them. They make the case that AI, if applied carefully, can improve democratic processes instead of threatening them.

The book explains how large language models, chatbots, and other machine learning tools could expand public participation, make legislation more transparent, and help citizens understand policy. I found the authors' steady optimism and lack of alarmism refreshing. They stay grounded in facts and resist the sensationalism that often surrounds discussions of AI and politics.

However, the book is dense. The detailed descriptions of the "dance of legislation" and the mechanics of bureaucracy can be tedious for readers uninterested in political procedure. Still, those sections show how the authors think AI could fit into real-world governance rather than just theory.

Even when the topic veers into areas I find dull, the book remains valuable for showing how broad the applications of AI have become. It highlights both the potential and the practical challenges of integrating intelligent systems into democratic life. 4/5 Stars.

Dark Mind by Ian Douglas (2017)

This seventh book in the series pulls the story line up from its prior slump. Space opera tropes, including vast fleets clashing through interstellar regions of our galaxy blazed with fresh fire. I savored the new, inscrutable aliens tugging strings from the shadows, exposing layers of star gods and elder manipulators that mirrored L Ron Hubbard and Scientology's wild cosmology with Thetans plotting, Xenu, and the ancient "incidents."

The main character steered the human fight, making monumental decisions with bad data.  I enjoyed the gritty characters as they sidestepped plot twists with razor wit. Fleet clashes thrummed; close combat boarding raids checked the space opera box.

Alien tech pulverized humanity's defenses; I did not like the repetitive eleventh-hour saves because they were over-used. But the author made it all work.  What if galaxy architects juggle us as pawns? The reader grapples with free will trapped in scripted destinies, a cosmic horror twist. Douglas revived the saga for me. 5/5 Stars

A Spy Among Friends by Ben Macintyre (2014)

I enjoy Ben Macintyre's books. His mix of rigorous research and narrative skill is on full display in this one. The story is about Kim Philby, the infamous British intelligence officer who spied for the Soviet Union for decades as he rose to senior ranks within MI6 while betraying his friends and country.

What sets this book apart is Macintyre's meticulous use of original sources and his skepticism toward the self-serving revisionist memoirs of those involved.  Rather than recycling familiar spy lore, he reconstructs a credible picture of how an entire generation of British and American intelligence leaders was incompetent.  They were deceived, not just by Philby, but by their own class loyalties and misplaced trust.

The most damning revelation is that Philby's final escape to Moscow was not a clever, daring flight but a deliberate act of protection by members of Britain's upper-class intelligence elite. The result is a portrait not only of treachery but of institutional rot: privilege shielding privilege while national security collapsed for political expediency.

Macintyre also highlights the profound cost of these failures. The intelligence compromises Philby enabled during the early Cold War were not abstract; they led to thousands of real deaths and strategic disasters. His betrayal reverberated across continents, exposing just how fragile Western intelligence networks truly were and how inept the Soviet Union was at economic prosperity for their people.

I have an interest in systems thinking and failure analysis so I found this book especially compelling for its anatomy of organizational blindness. Macintyre dissects how personal loyalty, arrogance, and class solidarity overrode logic and evidence. These conditions allow catastrophic breaches to persist.

The book is a gripping narrative of espionage, friendship, and institutional failure, told with clarity and restraint. 4/5 Stars.

Abundance by Ezra Klein & Derek Thompson

Despite moments of political bias and some selective use of data, Abundance excels at what few books attempt: explaining the mechanics of modern economic growth within the tangled realities of politics, culture, and urban life. Klein and Thompson trace how societies build—or fail to build—the physical foundations of prosperity: housing, infrastructure, and industrial capacity.

They move easily from global trends to city-level bottlenecks, showing how ideology, regulation, and social attitudes shape what gets built and what stalls. The book's strength lies in its synthesis: it connects political theory with hard economic outcomes, revealing how values and governance directly determine material progress.

Where Vaclav Smil dissects production from a paleontological view -- purely technical or ecological perspective, Abundance focuses on agency: on the people and policies that choose between creation and constraint. Even when chronicling policy fiascos like California's high-speed rail, the authors maintain a credible optimism rooted in civic will and practical reform.

Addressed primarily to liberal readers, their message is blunt: scarcity is a political choice, not an inevitability. Choosing abundance means reclaiming ambition and capacity for collective improvement.

Clear, timely, and uncommonly coherent, Abundance deserves attention well beyond its partisan audience. 5/5 stars.

🤯 Wut? ChatGPT implemented in Minecraft?

This project reminds me of when developers booted Windows 95 inside a JavaScript VM in a browser, then launched the Netscape Navigator browser in the VM running in the browser. Hat tip: Michael Haupt.

Deep Time by Ian Douglas (1999)

This sixth book in the "Star Carrier" series is much better than the last one.  The fleet battles rage in fun space operatic fashion.  First-contact scenarios with inscrutable, cryptic aliens are intriguing and we are willing to suspend disbelief.  Even the time travel elements fail to detract from the plot and story arcs.  Heroic close-combat continues to pulse.  The awe-and-wonder space opera elements are all represented.  The big picture narrative of the invasion of our universe by beings fleeing their universe's heat death is wonderful.  Humanity deals with a civil war and forges pacts with space aliens amid existential battles. The story faces the "Singularity" question of whether the technology explosion will cause extinction or enable survival. Fun! 4/5 Stars.

Sunward by William Alexander (2025)

This book is terrible!  There is no science at all.  The plot is bizarre, random contrivances. I put it down after a few dozen pages. 0/5 Stars.

Lions and Scavengers by Ben Shapiro (2025)

Ben Shapiro's book crafts an allegory contrasting Enlightenment-driven wealth creation with socialist power grabs aiming for equal outcomes through wealth redistribution. The ecological model—hunters versus scavengers—starts strong, illustrating humanist rationality against emotional collectivism. Yet, the analogy falters. Shapiro introduces "weavers" and forces mismatched behaviors into the framework, muddying the narrative. Douglas Murray's On Democracies and Death Cults tackles similar themes with sharper clarity, avoiding speculative motives and strained metaphors. Shapiro's evidence and judgments on justice and policy hold weight, but selective scripture quotes and ascribed dark intentions to political actors weaken his case. The book gestures at insight but collapses under its own contrivances. I do not recommend this book. 3/5 stars.

What's With Baum by Woody Allen (2025)

Having grown up on the East Coast in a culture similar to the author's, I appreciated the book's sense of place. The descriptions of New York—its streets, sounds, and smells—are vivid and precise. The characters feel authentic, shaped by familiar neuroses, habits, and rhythms of speech.

The plot, however, is less engaging. Without a shared context, the inner turmoil of writers, artists, and critics carries little weight. The publishing-world drama that drives the story feels insular. I admired Allen's humor and self-awareness, but the novel's appeal depends heavily on cultural familiarity. Readers without deep ties to New York's intellectual circles may find it remote.  4/5 stars.

Dark Matter by Ian Douglas (2014)

Dark Matter, the fifth novel in Ian Douglas's Star Carrier series, pushes humanity's struggle into new cosmic territory where intelligence, evolution, and divinity blur. Admiral Trevor "Gray" Grayman leads his fleet against not only alien forces but also the unsettling prospect that consciousness itself may be a cosmic weapon.

The premise is ambitious but uneven. The vast scale of the multiverse and its alien hierarchies promises awe, yet the story sinks under repetition and pseudo-science. Physics, sociology, and psychology appear as hollow exposition rather than tools that move the plot or deepen character. The best parts—the space combat and the mystery of the "posthuman" entities—are buried beneath long detours on AI, memeplexes, and vacuum energy.

The novel aims for transcendence but rarely achieves coherence. I may continue the series for its scope, but this volume disappoints. 2/5 stars.

Retired Today!

I am grateful for colleagues, mentors, and the journey.  I am excited for what's next -- and may return if the right opportunity comes along.

When everyone knows that everyone knows by Steven Pinker (2025)

Why do groups keep up stories everyone knows are false—where each person sees the truth but pretends not to? Why do we tolerate polite hypocrisy, subtle bribes, half-hidden threats, or strategic flirtation? As someone wired for blunt honesty, I've long been baffled by these layers of social theater that seem to breed confusion and harm.

Steven Pinker's new book takes this puzzle apart with his trademark clarity, drawing on research in evolution, linguistics, and game theory—from the prisoner's dilemma to "The Emperor's New Clothes." He argues that shared fictions and mutual pretense aren't just signs of human weakness; they are tools that keep social life running. Sometimes truth is too volatile, and a bit of collective make-believe prevents conflict or preserves dignity.

What's most compelling is how Pinker turns apparent irrationality into evidence of strategic intelligence. The very evasions that frustrate literal-minded people serve an adaptive purpose, softening the blunt edges of honesty in complex societies. In an age flooded with misinformation, the book offers a sharp framework for seeing when concealment unites and when it corrupts.

Nothing has changed how I think about communication this profoundly since Kahneman's Thinking, Fast and Slow. This is Pinker at his best—precise, surprising, and deeply relevant. 5/5 stars.

Second Thoughts on the imminent Pop of the AI Bubble

The internet is buzzing with entertaining rants and doomsday predictions about the AI hype bubble's bursting any day now. Critics love to paint it as a fleeting fad doomed for a spectacular crash. Here are some of my favorite takedowns (links to the originals for your doom-scrolling pleasure):

• Fabio Ciucci's tweets
  
• Ed Zitron's fabulous vitriol
  
• Cory Doctorow's rant
• Nichil Suresh (of course)
• Vantille
• Ash Milton's sober article

Investors, meanwhile, obsess over "timing the top": Ride the wave of inflated expectations to the peak, then cash out before the plunge into the "trough of disillusionment." Smart strategy? Not so fast. Not so fast!

Because I am old, I see parallels to the Visicalc era of spreadsheets—the groundbreaking 1979 software that sparked a revolution but got crushed in the shakeout wars. What emerged? Microsoft Excel, the "evil empire's" powerhouse that now generates about $70 billion annually for Microsoft (MSFT). Valued alone at around $684 billion (excluding its vast ecosystem), Excel proves how one dominant tool can redefine industries. If AI proves even more transformational, $1 trillion in returns isn't just possible—it's within striking distance  

Wiser voices than mine argue this "hype bubble" won't deflate in one massive correction. The traditional Gartner Hype Cycle might not even apply here. Instead of a single pop, expect a series of refinements as AI matures into practical, profitable dominance. The real winners? Those who build for the long game, not the quick flip. What do you think—bubble or breakthrough?

The woman who smashed codes by Jason Fagone (2017)

I picked up The Woman Who Smashed Codes on the recommendation of colleagues who thought it might appeal to me because of its loose connection to cybersecurity. They were right. The book tells the story of Elizebeth Smith Friedman, a pioneering American cryptanalyst whose work laid much of the groundwork for modern codebreaking and national intelligence.

Fagone's writing is vivid and accessible. He brings the early 20th century to life through rich scenes and authentic dialogue that reflect the social norms, speech patterns, and intellectual energy of the time. What I particularly enjoyed was how the book captures that era's mindset—its optimism, its limits, and the quiet revolutions happening in scientific thought long before most people realized it.

The book does not shy away from the entrenched sexism Elizebeth and her peers faced, yet it handles those issues with balance. Fagone's tone is indignant where necessary but never heavy-handed. The result is both a tribute and a well-researched historical narrative.

Elizebeth's story also intersects with the birth of information theory and the cryptographic advances that would eventually culminate in Claude Shannon's 1939 work. Reading about her pre-Shannon efforts underscores how revolutionary those later ideas were, and how much of modern computing owes to the hidden labor of people like her.

For readers unfamiliar with cryptography, the book explains enough to make the puzzles and breakthroughs intelligible without drowning in mathematics. For readers who already know the field's history, Fagone's attention to archival detail and his portrayal of Elizebeth's marriage to fellow codebreaker William Friedman add valuable depth.

As a PhD in computer science and an avid reader of historical narratives grounded in real scientific and social change, I found this book deeply satisfying—both as history and as storytelling. It's an absorbing portrait of an overlooked figure whose intellect shaped the course of modern intelligence work.  5/5 Stars.

Does anyone really know what time it is?

The countdown to the "Epochalypse" has started.

https://slideshare.net/slideshow/epochalypse-now-the-coming-collapse-of-time-integrity-brucon-2025-umbelino-darley/283533877



See also TAI: https://mitchwyle.blogspot.com/2022/08/i-feel-earth-move-under-my-feet.html

( Thank you, "Chicago" for the title: https://youtube.com/watch?v=jgF_ycCmF18&t=67s )

Moon Rising by Ian McDonald (2019)

McDonald concludes the Luna trilogy by converging every narrative arc with space-opera optimism. The novel's lunar dynasties, shattered by betrayal and war, persist in a final contest for survival and autonomy. Character trajectories—Lucas Corta's persistence, Wagner's loyalty, and the Suns' political calculation—unfold through fun and credible transformations. McDonald sharpens genre conventions, anchoring personal stakes to wider systemic change and broader scope. Tension between familial ambition and social order drives the series to its conclusion, elevating the outcome beyond melodrama 5/5 stars.

Into the impossible: Think Like a Nobel Prize Winner by Brian Keating (2021)

I rarely make time for long-form podcasts, but I often watch Brian Keating's short YouTube videos. They condense physics and astronomy insights into compact, accessible commentary. Keating's strength lies in his engagement with unconventional thinkers—Avi Loeb, Eric Weinstein, Sabine Hossenfelder—and in his defense of rational inquiry: curiosity, the scientific method, collaboration, Humanist Enlightenment values, and ethical responsibility in research.

The book distills conversations with Nobel laureates into a framework for creative thought and scientific curiosity. Keating extends his interest in physics toward a broader philosophy of how discovery unfolds. Into the Impossible blends scientific reflection with the rhetoric of self-improvement, urging readers to test assumptions, question orthodoxy, and cultivate purposeful collaboration.

The result is engaging and coherent, though familiar. The book reiterates themes Keating has already articulated across his public work. For readers accustomed to his "snackable" videos, the content will feel like a polished synthesis rather than new terrain. Still, its clarity and intellectual warmth make the repetition worthwhile. 4/5 stars

Deep Space by Ian Douglas (2013)

In Deep Space, the fourth installment of Ian Douglas's military science fiction series, the familiar blend of vast interstellar conflict, political intrigue, and alien mystery continues with impressive energy. Douglas expands his universe with new technologies, additional alien species, and a steady escalation of fleet-scale battles that retain both tactical realism and emotional resonance.

The novel balances the spectacle of large-scale combat with evolving character arcs that add substance to the action. Several returning figures grow in depth, and for once, their personal stakes feel genuinely earned amid the chaos of war. The author handles his shifting perspectives and complex geopolitics with clarity, keeping the pacing brisk even as the strategic layers multiply.

While the grand themes of sacrifice and duty remain constant, Douglas injects enough unpredictability into the plot to keep readers engaged. A few turns arrive unexpectedly yet feel natural within the larger narrative structure.

Deep Space is classic Ian Douglas: hard-edged, cinematic, and unapologetically patriotic, with enough speculative science and spacefaring wonder to satisfy serious fans of the genre. 4/5 stars

The sword of freedom by Yossi Cohen (2025)

This book is equal parts memoir, political manifesto, and strategic reflection. While the text is saturated with self-promotion and at times descends into outright boasting, Cohen nevertheless delivers an unusually candid account of the inner workings of a modern intelligence service and its entanglement with statecraft. His personal ambition—to position himself as a plausible future prime minister—is barely concealed, and readers seeking a detached or modest narrative will not find it here.

Despite the political grandstanding, the book offers genuine rewards. Cohen's biographical vignettes and his recounting of espionage operations are both entertaining and instructive. More importantly, his discussion of the mission of a national intelligence service, the role of the individual spy, and the necessity of engaging with one's adversaries on their own terms is striking. He shows rare empathy for the values and goals of opponents, and from this vantage point explains the effectiveness of disinformation, deception, "big lies," and ideological campaigns waged against the West.

Perhaps the book's greatest contribution lies in its critique of the West's chronic diplomatic failures. Cohen highlights the disjunction between Western nations' reliance on Enlightenment humanist assumptions and the fundamentally different axioms guiding most political powers in the world today. By revealing how this mismatch enables adversaries to manipulate and outmaneuver liberal democracies, he forces readers to rethink not only intelligence but the philosophical underpinnings of Western diplomacy.

Ambitious, self-serving, yet ultimately illuminating, The Sword of Freedom succeeds in balancing flawed authorial ego with valuable insight into intelligence, power, and the limits of Western ideals. 4/5 stars

Wie Krankheiten Geschichte Machen von Ronald D. Gerste (2019)

Gerste hat mit „Wie Krankheiten Geschichte Machen" ein Buch geschrieben, das leider nicht an die Qualität von „Wie das Wetter Geschichte macht" heranreicht. Einige Anekdoten und Details sind zwar unterhaltsam, wirken aber eher wie Klatschgeschichten ohne echten Einfluss auf Politik oder historische Entwicklungen der großen Persönlichkeiten, über die er schreibt.

Spannender waren oft die beiläufig erwähnten Entwicklungen in der Medizin – Methoden, Therapien und diagnostische Fortschritte, die sich im Lauf der Zeit durchgesetzt haben. Gerade hier hätte man sich mehr Tiefgang gewünscht. Dagegen bleiben die Kapitel zu wirklich weltbewegenden Krankheiten wie der Schwarzen Pest, der Cholera oder den alltäglichen Belastungen durch endemische Leiden blass und oberflächlich.

Am Ende bleibt der Eindruck eines Buches, das zwar stellenweise nett zu lesen ist, aber sein Potenzial nicht ausschöpft. Wer sich ernsthaft für die Rolle von Krankheiten in der Menschheitsgeschichte interessiert, wird enttäuscht. 2/5 Sterne – keine Empfehlung.

The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood (1985)

As part of revisiting top-rated works of science fiction, I read Atwood's The Handmaid's Tale, a novel I had deliberately avoided upon its release in the 1980s. My reservations proved justified. The text is less a plausible work of speculative fiction than a polemical outburst against misogyny in human society.

Atwood's imagined dystopia in "Gilead," set implausibly in Maine, mirrors elements of life under repressive regimes in Somalia, Uganda, or Mali, where women today face forced subjugation, violence, sexual exploitation, and ritual mutilation. Yet Atwood's fictional setting fails as credible social critique because its economics, military structure, and theocratic politics collapse under even minimal consideration. The "world-building" is poorly constructed, driven more by ideological hostility than by disciplined extrapolation of political or social trends.

As a lifelong advocate for women's rights and careers, I find Atwood's mode of attack counterproductive. Shallow caricature and theatrical dystopianism do not advance feminist or humanist thought; they trivialize serious injustices by surrounding them with absurd scaffolding. The result is a deeply unconvincing vision that masquerades as insight. 1/5 stars.

Luna 2: Wolf Moon by Ian McDonald (2017)

The narrative heightens its melodrama, with lethal confrontations arriving so relentlessly that they dull their own impact. Curiosity persists in the overarching story arcs and the enigmatic forces moving behind the scenes, but the individual revenge plots feel hollow because the surviving characters inspire little sympathy. As the middle volume of the trilogy, the novel bears the burden of transition—bridging the audacity of New Moon with the resolution still to come—yet the emotional stakes erode under repetition. 3/5 stars.

Wreck Jumpers 2 by Jason Anspach and Nick Cole (2025)

The second novel extends the arcs of the original rescue team as they confront the same shadowed adversaries—formidable in political reach, skill, and intrigue. The Warsh aliens dominate this installment, endowed with powers beyond even the Galaxy's Edge mythos, reshaping the scale of combat. The narrative broadens with sharper personalities, including robots that now carry voice, wit, and purpose absent in the first volume. Battles accelerate, characters evolve, and the stakes rise without dilution. The story probes how authority, whether political or military, mutates when opposed by loyalty forged under pressure. It also suggests that technology gains meaning only through the values projected onto it by those who wield it. A concise and vigorous continuation. 5/5 stars

Co-Intelligence by Ethan Mollick (2024)

My work centers on researching and building AI applications, and I manage a broad software team. Some of my colleagues dive headlong into "vibe coding" with generative AI assistants and agentic workflows, while others resist or adopt slowly. Outside of work, I experiment with chatbots and occasionally use them for personal coding, writing, and evaluation tasks. One of my team members recommended Co-Intelligence, so I began with the audiobook on a long flight. I retained little from that attempt. Reading the ebook with notes proved more effective, and I extracted the key insights.

I approach most AI commentary with skepticism. The hype bubble, inflated by the trillion-dollar "magnificent seven," resembles many earlier cycles. Still, just as calculators, GPS, and spell-checkers raised the floor of productivity, generative AI is now advancing the Gartner "plateau of productivity."

Mollick's enthusiasm is obvious, but his "four principles" are sound: (1) treat AI as a partner, not a tool; (2) use it often to learn its strengths and limits; (3) be transparent about when and how you employ it; and (4) expect disruption as norms shift. His prompt-design examples are pragmatic, too. Roughly one-third of the book delivers practical value; the rest dissolves into speculation and fanboy exuberance. Even so, the book is worth reading. 4/5 stars.

Wreck Jumpers by Nick Cole and Jason Anspach (2025)

Cole and Anspach launch another military space opera within their Wayward Galaxy universe, trading narrative depth for kinetic entertainment. The familiar setting and search-and-rescue framing provide novelty, while the characters bristle with energy and rapid-fire banter, echoing the spirit of their earlier work. The result is exuberant, chaotic action punctuated by audacious rescues, though the prose lacks the refinement and immersion achieved in their more polished novels. It succeeds as light diversion—spirited rather than resonant. 4/5 stars.

The Girl who kicked the hornets' nest by Stieg Larsson (2007)

The trilogy concludes with undiminished tension, its narrative charged by reversals, near-deaths, and brutal confrontations that sustain relentless momentum. The plotting is mechanical at times, yet its inexorability creates suspense that feels earned rather than contrived. Larsson turns his critique toward institutions, exposing systemic corruption, entrenched secrecy, and the costs of bureaucratic complicity. The recurring emphasis on institutional misogyny underscores the novels' political charge, though its repetition risks flattening nuance in an otherwise finely-woven narrative. Central characters achieve limited but meaningful development, gaining maturity without betrayal of their sharply defined identities. The finale delivers both continuity and resolution, securing closure while preserving the series' force. 5/5 stars.

Singularity (Star Carrier book 3) by Ian Douglas (2012)

Book 3 expands its political dimensions while deepening the enigma of alien civilizations whose motives remain provocatively opaque, even as they prosecute genocidal war against humanity. Douglas sustains the sense of awe with ancient extraterrestrial mysteries embedded in efficient space opera structuring, while fleet combat sequences deliver momentum and spectacle without excess. The introduction of time travel feels like a dilution of narrative rigor, a compromise to coherence, yet the planetary-moving and galactic-scale engineering technologies reaffirm the saga's conceptual grandeur. Compared with the prior volumes, this installment broadens the cosmological scale while maintaining continuity of military perspective, signaling a shift from near-term survival drama toward longer-arc speculation about humanity's place in a universe shaped by incomprehensible powers. The storyline advances with discipline and energy, balancing large-scale speculation with tight military plotting. 4/5 stars.

Stardust by Neil Gaiman (1999)

I rarely enjoy high fantasy, and I often find Gaiman's work uneven. Nevertheless, his mastery of prose and narrative drive is undeniable. Stardust succeeds because it embraces the fairy tale form without apology. The novel employs an arbitrary but internally consistent magic system and populates it with sharply drawn, memorable characters. The horrors remain true to the tradition of fairy tales—brutal yet restrained in presentation. The result is a work that feels both timeless and deliberate, balancing whimsy with menace. A flawless execution of modern mythmaking. 5/5 stars.

Center of Gravity (star carrier book 2) by Ian Douglas (2011)

Douglas's Center of Gravity extends the Star Carrier saga with all the hallmarks of classic space opera: high-stakes political intrigue on Earth, massive fleet engagements, relativistic combat rendered with cinematic flair, enigmatic alien species, and technologies designed to evoke awe. The narrative momentum is strong, the characters remain engaging, and the escalating conflicts have a satisfying dramatic rhythm.

Still, the physics in the story often falters. Singularity encounters omit any serious consideration of tidal forces. The treatment of relativistic energies—whether in blue-shifted particle beams or exotic "relativistic sand" munitions—lacks rigor. The frequency of collisions among vessels in interstellar space pushes credibility as well. These flaws undermine some of the scientific verisimilitude, though they never entirely fracture the operatic sweep of the story.

Despite the lapses in astrophysical modeling, the novel succeeds as exhilarating spectacle and remains deeply enjoyable. 4/5

How to Dodge a Cannonball by Dennard Dayle (2025)

Dennard Dayel's How to Dodge a Cannonball reads like a satirical fever dream of the American Civil War, written in a cadence that recalls Neil Gaiman's gothic whimsy but channeled through battlefield smoke and absurdist humor. The novel brims with clever aphorisms and meticulously crafted ironies, some of which prompted genuine laughter. Yet the eccentric characters, designed more as allegorical figures than as psychologically convincing agents, never acquire sufficient depth to sustain real attachment. Their stories, while inventive, feel ornamental rather than compelling. The brilliance lies in the tonal play—where tragedy keeps colliding with farce—yet the narrative lacks the gravitational pull of characters worth following. For all its wit and audacity, the book remains more a satirical spectacle than a work of lasting emotional force. 3/5

Earth Strike (star carrier 1) by Ian Douglas (2010)

Ian Douglas launches the Star Carrier saga with a narrative that fuses interstellar mystery, relentless fleet combat, and the precarious role of humanity in a universe populated by civilizations far older and more advanced. The novel's central tension emerges from first contact with an enigmatic species whose capabilities far exceed human understanding. That asymmetry drives the suspense: survival hinges on improvisation, cultural resilience, and the capacity for tactical surprise.

The physics that underpin the technology function as both strength and weakness. When Douglas stretches plausibility—gravity fields near singularities, or selective hand-waving around faster-than-light transitions—the cracks show. Yet these gaps are overshadowed by kinetic depictions of carrier operations and fleet engagements that pulse with authenticity, clearly informed by present-day doctrine. The heavy emphasis on crewed spacecraft, though questionable in an era where autonomous systems dominate speculation, reinforces the drama of command decisions under extreme uncertainty.

What keeps the novel engrossing is not just the scale of the threat but the tight focus on individuals who must navigate enormous strategic stakes. The convergence of personal loyalties, institutional rivalries, and the dizzying possibility of extinction yields a story that entertains as much as it provokes reflection. Earth Strike succeeds as a first movement in a longer symphony—high velocity, flawed at the margins, but gripping throughout. 4/5.

The Hidden Girl and other stories by Ken Liu (2020)

I first encountered Ken Liu's work through the television series Pantheon and sought out this collection because several episodes draw on stories from it. A handful of the science fiction pieces form a shared universe that underpins the series. The adaptations depart from their source material in substantial ways—at times the dramatizations convey more emotional force, while in other respects the original stories possess greater intellectual rigor and narrative control.

Outside the science fiction core, most of the remaining works fall into sword-and-sorcery fantasy. These rely heavily on mythic tropes that I found less compelling and, in some cases, distracting. Liu's strengths lie elsewhere: his speculative futures are constructed with unusual clarity and depth, and his prose in English is fluid, precise, and engaging. His world-building is particularly notable, sustained by an evident mastery of technical and cultural detail.

Liu is already recognized by a wide array of major awards, and his polymathic career—lawyer, technologist, and translator in addition to author—underscores the breadth of his intellectual reach. For readers seeking carefully imagined technology-driven futures, the strongest science fiction stories in this volume are absorbing and rewarding. The weaker fantasy entries, however, dilute the collection. 3/5 Stars.

Luna: New Moon by Ian Douglas (2015)

Ian Douglas's Luna: New Moon disappoints as a follow-up to the Abyss Galaxy Raiders series, trading the latter's taut space opera for a bloated narrative marred by gratuitous sex, superficial fashion descriptions, and tangential subplots. While the core plot—centered on a feudal lunar society—holds promise, the execution falters. The worldbuilding, particularly the reliance on 3D-printed weaponry and technology as a deus ex machina, feels contrived and underdeveloped. The pacing suffers from a glaring imbalance: the majority of the novel meanders through backstory and distractions, only to rush through critical plot twists and revelations in the final chapters.

The novel's redeeming features include its visceral, close-quarters combat sequences and a premise that, with tighter editing, could have delivered a compelling exploration of lunar colonization and societal collapse. As it stands, Luna: New Moon earns a cautious 3/5 stars—a flawed but not irredeemable entry in Douglas's oeuvre.

Cat's Cradle by Kurt Vonnegut (1963)

Now I remember why I had not read this book earlier.  Cat's Cradle exemplifies Vonnegut's signature satirical style, but it fails catastrophically in several critical respects. The novel's scientific premises defy belief, undermining the narrative's internal logic. The portrayal of characters lacks depth and consistency, resulting in figures that are not only unconvincing but completely unsympathetic. The humor, intended to be darkly ironic, fails to engage and often feels forced. Overall, the combination of weak characterization, flawed scientific underpinnings, and ineffective humor renders the novel a disappointing read. Given these deficiencies, the work struggles to justify the investment of time required to finish it. 1/5 Stars.

Parliament of Whores by P J O'Rourke (1991)

P. J. O'Rourke's Parliament of Whores: A Lone Humorist Attempts to Explain the Entire U.S. Government remains one of the sharpest satirical dissections of American politics ever written. O'Rourke, a seasoned journalist and foreign correspondent, brings both firsthand reporting and a libertarian sensibility to his critique. The result is a book that is both uproariously funny and uncomfortably accurate.

O'Rourke's style is dense with humor; many sentences deliver multiple laugh-out-loud lines. Yet the comedy serves as a scalpel rather than a distraction, laying bare the inefficiency, hypocrisy, and absurdity of government. He skewers politicians across the spectrum, exposing the ways in which taxing, spending, and regulation consistently fail to produce outcomes acceptable to the very citizens they are meant to serve.

Despite his relentless criticism, O'Rourke avoids despair. His libertarian perspective emphasizes not only the limits of government but also the resilience of individuals and institutions outside of politics. He notes, with characteristic irony, that American society functions far better than one would expect given the incompetence of its leaders. That recognition—our ability to thrive in spite of government—gives the book a surprising optimism beneath the satire.

O'Rourke's combination of journalistic observation, libertarian critique, and comedic brilliance makes Parliament of Whores a rare achievement: a political book that is simultaneously serious, insightful, and wildly entertaining. I regret not having read more of his work earlier, and I recommend this one without reservation. 5/5 Stars.

The Dispossessed by Ursula K Le Guin (1974)

Ursula K. Le Guin's The Dispossessed occupies a seminal place in science fiction for its ambitious exploration of anarchism, utopia, and the nature of freedom. Despite the novel's critical acclaim—including multiple Hugo and Nebula awards—I found the execution lacking in depth. The narrative investigates the ideological tensions between the collectivist anarchist society on the moon Anarres and its more capitalist and hierarchical sister planet, Urras. Through the protagonist Shevek, a physicist seeking to unify disparate scientific and social worlds, Le Guin examines themes of individual autonomy versus social conformity, the contradictions within idealistic political structures, and the complexity of human freedom.

However, the characters often function more as vectors for these philosophical inquiries rather than as complex human beings. The dialogue frequently feels schematic, prioritizing political discourse over organic storytelling. The central conflicts sometimes appear contrived to serve ideological debate rather than arising naturally from the characters' lived experience. While the prose aligns with Le Guin's reputation for elegance, the novel's didactic tone diminished my engagement.

The Dispossessed deserves recognition for its conceptual rigor and the urgency of its questions about societal organization and personal liberty. Yet, the book's strengths are counterbalanced by flat characterization and a plot that serves the philosophy more than the storytelling. 2/5 stars.

Day of the Moron by Alan Dean Piper (1951)

I enjoyed this story most for its characters and dialogue, which immerse the reader in a genuine slice of 1951 America. The values and attitudes on display exemplify the rock-solid humanism of the Greatest Generation—men and women who had survived the Second World War, built immense wealth, and launched unprecedented advances in medicine, aeronautics, rocketry, nuclear science, weapons technology, birth control, and even the design of interstellar space probes. Their optimism was inseparable from their accomplishments, and Piper captures that atmosphere with remarkable clarity.

The story itself works because it builds steadily from everyday realism into a problem of enormous consequence, handled with restraint and credibility. The dialogue and pacing create a slow tightening of tension, so when the ending arrives, it feels both inevitable and startling. The resolution strikes with force precisely because it remains true to the world and characters Piper so carefully established.  Rating: 5/5 Stars

The Cookie Monster by Vernor Vinge (2003)

After Vinge's death, I turned to several of his works, including this novella. True Names imagines consciousnesses inhabiting a simulation and struggling against its constraints. It stands as one of the earliest treatments of virtual worlds, anticipating ideas later elaborated in Ken Liu's short stories (adapted in the TV series Pantheon).

The narrative feels pioneering but now somewhat dated, especially in comparison with more sophisticated explorations such as David Brin's Stones of Significance. Still, the novella captures the thrill of speculative extrapolation at a moment when the digital frontier was only beginning to be glimpsed.

Rating: 3/5

The Girl Who Played with Fire by Stieg Larsson (2009)

Larsson's second volume shifts the center of gravity from Mikael Blomkvist to Lisbeth Salander, expanding her fractured past into a narrative of systemic violence. The plot retains investigative intrigue but amplifies spectacle, introducing figures whose physical resilience borders on the implausible. Beneath the thriller mechanics lies Larsson's critique of entrenched misogyny, secret surveillance networks, and the collusion of state institutions in suppressing truth. Although less tightly constructed than Dragon Tattoo, the novel's urgency stems from Salander's defiance of structures intent on erasing her. A bold, unsettling exploration of power and resistance. Rating: 4/5

Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman (1997)

Review of Six Not-So-Easy Pieces: Einstein's Relativity, Symmetry, and Space-Time by Richard Feynman (1997)

As an undergraduate I could not penetrate the large, hardbound volumes of The Feynman Lectures on Physics my sister used in graduate school; my mathematics at the time was too limited. Even so, the space–time diagrams and the elegance of Feynman's prose left a lasting impression. Later I devoured his autobiographical works—beginning with Surely You're Joking, Mr. Feynman!—and admired his wit as much as his physics.

This smaller collection, distilled from transcripts of selected undergraduate lectures, offers a more approachable entry into his treatment of relativity, symmetry, and space–time. Freed from the intimidating scale of the three-volume lectures, the material here is accessible without losing rigor. Feynman's charisma, precision, and contagious delight in physics animate every page.

The result is a compact yet deep experience: challenging enough to respect the subject, clear enough to sustain momentum. I read it quickly and with great enjoyment.

Rating: 4/5 stars.

American Gods by Neil Gaiman (2021)

I found the television series adaptation disappointing because of its brutality and incoherent universe. Gaiman's novel has superior storytelling, brimming with bizarre, unpredictable twists. Capricious, inconsistent magic—only lightly horrific—animates fun, colorful characters who are very well written. Interpreting the gods' war reveals metaphors for cultural erosion: immigrant mythologies fade amid ascendant American deities of technology and media, underscoring belief's fragility in forging national identity. 3/5 stars.

The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo by Stieg Larsson (2009)

Stieg Larsson's inaugural Millennium novel thrusts journalist Mikael Blomkvist into a labyrinthine investigation of corporate corruption and a decades-old disappearance within a wealthy Swedish family.  Aided by the enigmatic hacker Lisbeth Salander—a survivor of institutional abuse whose vigilante ethos challenges patriarchal norms Mikael has thrilling adventures unravelling the mystery. The narrative interweaves subplots of financial malfeasance, sexual violence, and latent fascism, critiquing Sweden's supposedly egalitarian society while exposing misogyny's systemic roots. The thriller functions as a feminist indictment, with Salander embodying resilient autonomy amid moral decay, rendering the tightly plotted mystery a vehicle for social commentary on power imbalances. The characterization and pacing are captivating. 5/5 Stars.

When We Were Orphans by Kazuo Ishiguro (2001)

Kazuo Ishiguro's When We Were Orphans (2000) probes the unreliability of memory and perception through Christopher Banks, an acclaimed detective whose myopic adherence to personal convictions blinds him to broader realities.

Exquisite prose illuminates profound character depths, weaving a narrative that exposes the tragic rigidities of early twentieth-century cultural norms and colonial illusions.

This masterful exploration of self-deception and loss merits Ishiguro's eventual Nobel Prize in Literature. 5/5 stars; highly recommended.

Galaxy Raiders: Abyss by Ian Douglas (2025)

In Ian Douglas's Abyss (2025), amortal humans navigate interstellar perils amid enigmatic aliens and colossal galactic empires.

Reminiscent of David Weber's naval sagas, the novel unleashes exhilarating fleet battles on vast scales, fueled by inventive technologies and a gripping narrative.

Compelling characters, including the deeply layered Morrigan, anchor the propulsive story, rendering it prime space opera.

Yet relativistic time dilation falters: near-light-speed voyages shorten traveler durations to destinations, but the profound lag at origins is dismissed, permitting returns to aligned timelines rather than estranged futures—a lapse that dilutes scientific plausibility for plot convenience.

Because of this inconsistency, the book thrills yet only partly fulfills hard sci-fi expectations. 4/5 stars.

Die Welt von Gestern. Erinnerungen eines Europäers von Stefan Zweig (1942)

Stefan Zweigs autobiografische Erinnerungen zeichnen ein nuanciertes Porträt der vor dem Ersten Weltkrieg blühenden europäischen Kultur im Habsburgerreich, einer Ära scheinbarer Sicherheit mit Fortschritten in Technologie, Humanismus und Aufklärungsphilosophie. Der Autor reflektiert über seine Bildung, literarische Karriere und Reisen, unterbrochen durch Begegnungen mit Figuren wie Sigmund Freud, Theodor Herzl, Rainer Maria Rilke und Richard Strauss. Das Werk lamentiert den Verfall von Humanismus, Internationalismus und kultureller Harmonie Europas, ersetzt durch Nationalismus, Kriege und Faschismus – ein Prozess, der in Zweigs Exil und dem Suizid mit seiner Frau kulminiert. Interpretativ verkörpert der Text eine Elegie auf verlorene Ideale, deren Zerbrechlichkeit durch Zweigs persönliche Desillusionierung unterstrichen wird und zeitgenössische Warnungen vor ideologischer Polarisierung impliziert. Der humanistische Schreibstil beeindruckt besonders. 4/5 Sterne.

The Institute by Stephen King (2021)

Stephen King's The Institute (2019) exemplifies his mastery as a mechanical and literary craftsman, with prose that enchants through vivid characters, sharp dialogue, meticulous plot pacing, and rich linguistic texture. Despite such strengths, my aversion to horror—the genre dominating his oeuvre—limits my engagement to his forays into science fiction or historical fiction, which too often veer into horrific territory and disappoint.

Enthusiastic horror fans in my company's book club consume King's works voraciously. A provocative comparison positioning The Institute as "Stephen King reimagines Ender's Game—and surpasses the original"—prompted my purchase. The novel indeed features prodigious children harnessed for extraordinary purposes, yet it pivots to psychic phenomena amid pervasive horror tropes, which alienated me. I savored the core narrative and characterizations but achieved only superficial immersion because of inconsistent handling of the psychic magic system, initially shrouded in mystery and deployed subtly to propel events, these abilities morph unpredictably, culminating in an unsatisfying resolution that undermines interpretive depth—perhaps intending to evoke ethical quandaries in exploiting latent human potential but faltering in coherence. 3/5 stars.

Wie Das Wetter Geschichte Macht (

Ronald D. Gerstes Wie Das Wetter Geschichte Macht (2015) bietet eine fesselnde Sammlung historischer Vignetten, die den entscheidenden Einfluss des Wetters auf historische Ereignisse beleuchten. Das Buch verknüpft faktenreiche Schilderungen mit spekulativen „Was-wäre-wenn"-Szenarien, die alternative Geschichtsverläufe überzeugend und anregend darstellen. Gerstes Erzählstil ist lebendig und unterhaltsam, auch wenn seine Quellenangaben und Erklärungen nicht immer umfassend sind und gelegentlich Fehler enthalten.

Die dramatischen Kommentare tragen zur Anziehungskraft des Buches bei, doch die ausschweifenden Passagen über anthropogenen Klimawandel und leidenschaftliche Klagen über die moderne Gesellschaft wirken ermüdend und fehlen am Platz. Trotz dieser Schwächen bleibt das Werk durch seine originelle Perspektive und den Fokus auf das Wetter als historische Kraft ansprechend.

Bewertung: 4/5 Sterne.