BLINDED BY THE LIGHTSHOW
The Disco Biscuits - Town Ballroom, 11-9-2006
9/10
by Charles Wiff and Daniele Hauptman
The Town Ballroom is a venue that can go from being the coziest, most inviting place to see some big-name bands, to an unsavory, cold cellar in seconds.
While the crowd that turned out last Thursday night no doubt appreciated the access to two bars within the tiered showroom, the hard partying bunch were significantly less enthused with the stifling security. But them’s the breaks, and few patrons were complaining when they emerged from The Disco Biscuits’ Buffalo show.
Philadelphia formed, The Disco Biscuits brought a hard-hitting two-set spectacular to town, and seven shows deep into their fall tour, they were in high form. For the uninitiated, a “Bisco” show is part rave, part rock concert, part light show, and all party. A four-man group consisting of bass, guitar, keyboards, drums, and a battery of electronic synthesizers, they pump out a tremendous amount of bass-laden, guitar-beeping, drum-rolicking sound that the kids just love to dance to. And for those looking for a more visual experience, the rainbow lights that illuminated the dance floor throughout the show were not to be equaled.
Yes, if your ears weren’t bleeding from the wall of sound that was just loud enough to distort more subtle points of the music, the show’s only real problem, then your retinas were burning from the explosion of trippy neon colors.
While the venue’s levels make it easy to get a great view of the band, most people were there to rock out and stare at the people around them. Various forms of dancing were the second most entertaining part of the show, aside from the music itself. The Disco Biscuits have a wide range of quirky fans, from dreadlocked longhairs, to glow stick-toting club ravers, to booty shaking hipsters. On the floor, what may have been mistaken for dance moves could easily have been strobe light-induced seizures.
We hit the showroom just as the Biscuits were firing up their first tune, “Helicopter,” which launched the floor into a frenzy. They then showed newcomers why this act is a growing sensation with an hour-long romp that was bookended by performances of “Spraypaint” and “Cyclone,” with “Voices Insane” sandwiched in between. They phased into and out of each tune with liberal improvisation, making for an impressive non-stop onslaught of sound.
Bisco newbies may have had difficulty discerning one song from the next, seeing as most of their repertoire consists of heavy bass and drum beats with delicate, rhythmic interruption from Jon Gutwillig’s distorted guitar and Aron Magner’s ethereal keys. The vocals rarely live up to their instrumentals, unfortunately, and on Thursday the microphones might as well have just been there for show. But their sound is clean and refined, and fantastic dance music no matter what mental state you’re in.
And the crowd in Town Ballroom danced like they stole their shoes. The floor was packed to capacity with drug-addled, swaying, jumping hippie-types. Judging from the number of elbows that struck a variety of places, the proper etiquette is to pre-game as much as possible, and to do your drugs in the privacy of the nearest parking lot. Despite the occasional collision with pupil-blown fiends and the small-scale damage the venue accrued as the evening progressed, the crowd was generally open and friendly.
The band returned to the stage for a second set that, while certainly rocking, did not match the intensity of their initial offering. They closed out with a mind-blowing “Spaga,” however, that overshadowed their “Mr. Don” encore. The crowd shuffled out drenched in sweat and satisfied.
We must reiterate that the light show was consistently amazing throughout, and whoever was locked into the beat at the board deserves a medal. Kaleidoscopic swirling colors, strobe lights, neon running lights on the stage, and an encore use of the Town Ballroom’s recessed disco ball highlighted the visual spectacle. The soundboard operator could have exercised a more delicate touch and left the audience with some hearing, though. Some of the extended guitar notes literally rattled teeth, and the vocals were indecipherable when, in fact, the lyrics are pretty decent for a dance band.
The Disco Biscuits play the kind of stuff you can jam to in the privacy of your room, spin while you drive, or play as mood music to long bouts of substance-fueled sex. And when you combine their songs with a crowd that’s clearly on a plethora of drugs, you get some wild and crazy dance moves, ranging from sexy to hilarious. The music is hard to define. It’s porno groove, funk, disco rock, and electronica, all mixed into one drumtastic show. The Biscuits knew what the crowd wanted, and gave their fans something to cheer about. If disco was ever truly dead, it was reincarnated Thursday night at the Town Ballroom by some highly skilled hippies.
SMELL THAT BOUQUET
Area Wine Tours
9/10
by Tori Burhans
As college students, we are all bombarded with the stereotypical activities around a university: the lame clubs on Chippewa or Main Street, frat parties where all you do is drink blue shit and cheap beer, and the occasional event where our parents might come to visit and buy us a nice steak dinner. Rare are the times where there is a lack of base entertainment for university students. We tend to get used to the crass and forget that anything even remotely nice exists.
But, it doesn’t have to be this way! How about next time you head over the border to Canada to eat at T.G.I.Fridays and get drunk at Club Rumors, you take a right after crossing the bridge and drive into the Niagara on the Lake wine region? Boasting over 20 wine manufacturers, Niagara on the Lake is my favorite thing about Buffalo. This quaint town holds boutiques, fine dining, Cuban cigar shops, and grape vineyards as far as the eye can see.
Situated between an escarpment and Lake Ontario, this region’s layout produces some very interesting wines. Though most specialize in red wines (that type of grape thrives in these weather conditions), they also have a fair amount of respectable white wines. Almost all of the grapes are grown right there, but because of their desire to produce all kinds of wine, the growers bring in vines from across the world. However, it is still uncommon to find good Shiraz and Syrah made in this region.
Though Canadians might be offended when we refer to their country as frozen tundra, their early frosts and freezes are the reason Niagara on the Lake can produce their most famous export. Ice wines are made when the grapes are frozen on the vine producing a sweeter and syrupy dessert wine. Most wineries specialize in white ice wines, though more recently they’ve been experimenting with a Cabernet Franc ice wine made from red grapes. By the bottle, these ice wines are more expensive, ranging from $40-$90 Canadian.
In each of the wineries, they’ll have a tasting room where you can buy by the glass (serving size one ounce) or by the flight. Flights are normally three to four selections paired together to showcase the best the vineyard has produced. The most expensive flights I’ve seen are around $10 Canadian. Also, most wineries will have tours during the peak seasons where they bring you out to the vineyard, inside to the barrels, and end with a tutorial on how to correctly taste a glass of wine (I’ll tell you right now, you’re probably not doing it right).
If all this is making you want to throw that Franzia “Chillable Red” (red wine should never be chilled!) out the window, good! Cross the border and make sure to go to these fine estates:
Peller Estate Wines: Situated off the road, Peller Winery looks like a French chateau in the middle of Canada. At the tasting room, try their ice wine flights—they are excellent, and personally my favorite. This estate was the first to start making the Cab-Franc ice wine, and it’s definitely the best. Ask for a glass of their sparkling wine with ice wine mixed in (to sweeten the bitterness)—it’ll be on the house.
Hillebrand Winery: Recently bought by Peller, Hillebrand is growing to be one of the best. Their tasting room servers are some of the most knowledgeable and friendly. My favorite thing about them is that their tastings are served out of Riedel Crystal glasses, shaped differently for each type of wine. Another wonderful feature is their restaurant that serves everything with a different glass of wine to compliment.
Strewn: They’ll tell you their red wine blends are great, but they’re typically sedimenty and bold. Then they’ll make you try their Riesling, but it’s nothing to write home about. Strewn’s real beauty if the fact that it’s paired with a cooking school and restaurant that teaches people how to properly cook with wine.
Sunnybrook Farm Estate Winery: When they told me that they specialize in fruit wines, I wanted to turn around and walk out. After learning that they don’t add fruit flavor to wine made from grapes, but actually made from the fruits themselves, I decided to give it a chance. With refreshing flavors like Iced Peach and Pear, Cherry, and Black Currant, Sunnybrook is a nice stop in between all the Merlots and Cabernet Sauvignons.
Stratus: Brand new to the wine-making business, Stratus takes a different view on wine-making. Creating new ways of manufacturing which are completely organic and environmentally friendly, Stratus produces a little bit of a good thing. Stratus Red and Stratus White are more expensive than other wines, because they produce limited bottles and require more time to make.
I know this might seem like an expensive trip, but it doesn’t have to be. Wait for your parents to come up (they’re fantastic designated drivers) and entice them with a sophisticated day of wine-tasting. If it would be too weird to get drunk with your parents, there are plenty of ways to budget. Many tasting rooms have complimentary tastings or specials. You don’t have to go for the high class stuff to get a buzz.
GO SPEED RACER
Go-Karts at Lasertron
9/10
by Susy Kim
Many of you guys are probably already familiar with Lasertron next to Tops supermarket on Maple Road. Ever since 1986, Lasertron has been a major entertainment center for the Buffalo community and University at Buffalo students. Recently, they have added an outdoor go-karting track that consists of over 1,100 feet of racetrack. Last Saturday, I went go-karting for the first time at Lasertron with a couple of my friends. It was one of the most memorable Saturdays ever in my three years here at UB. It’s something different from the typical drinking and partying, and gives you a high that you can’t get from alcohol and whatever other stuff kids are doing these days.
Lasertron gives you many different options for their go-karting packages. Packages start at $14 for one race, $20 for two races, and $24 for three races; each race consists of five times around the track. There are three different racing speeds: Rookie for those at least 11 years old, Pro for those 16 and up, and Super Pro for people 18 and older. Each race takes about 30 to 40 minutes, and the best-timed racer gets a free pass for one race the next time he or she visits Lasertron.
Even though this isn’t real driving, there are still some basic rules that you must follow. The obvious one is that go-karting isn’t the same as bumper cars. Bumping into other cars will slow down your car and may cause Lasertron staff to pause the race. Super Pro races allow you to go up to about 35 mph, so it really does hurt when you bump into other cars! Another rule you should be aware of is to never drive in the opposite direction of the traffic because you can cause serious harm to yourself and others. Sometimes it’s hard to believe that you can actually get hurt from go-karting, but these cars are meant for racing—which means serious fun.
In case you decide to go-kart this coming weekend, let me give you a few tips so that you can truly enjoy your time there. First, don’t go with too many people. Just bring your closest friends and leave those stranger lurkers out. To me, five is the perfect number. Going go-karting with too many people can slow down the experience and cause numerous time-outs, which can ruin the whole purpose of go-karting: to drive like a maniac without the 5-0 on your ass. Second, bring your camera. You will definitely want to take pictures of this crazy event. Third, get yourself a pair of gloves. Since the weather is getting pretty cold and this is an outdoor event, it is necessary that you wear gloves during the race. Fourth, don’t go there drunk. Lastly, but most importantly, don’t drive your real car the way you did on the racetrack after your visit.
If you keep these five rules in your mind you will be just fine. Now, go practice your driving skills on Mario Kart. Who knows, maybe it will help you out when you race in real life…or not.
COWBOY JUNKIE
Rock Star
President Bush
Rock music’s rich history of artistic brilliance ranges from Leadbelly to Jerry Lee Lewis to Hendrix to Nirvana. But AFI, Babyshambles, Panic! At the Disco?! No, no, NO! What the hell is wrong with you kids today?! Despite this proverbial nosedive in talent, there is one lesson to take away from this trend: anyone can be a rock star—all you need to do is behave like a drug-addled, self-absorbed jackass to win legions of fans.
Now, consider who the leader of the free world is and you’ll see why the state of politics is analogous to rock music these days. I’ll admit, I used to hate Bush, but now, I just feel sorry for him. He was shoved into the wrong profession. I flinch while saying this, but rock stars can afford to be deficient in intelligence. The President of America, however, cannot. Here’s a surprise: Bush should quit the Oval Office and just become a rock star, a role for which he was made. If you doubt my logic, just keep reading:
5. Bush wants to take over the world, but don’t most rock stars? While the British Invasion happened in America, the American Invasion is happening in the Middle East, so why not trade in AK-47s for Fenders? Bush would still be submitting the Iraqi people to a violent cacophony of sound, but the only difference is that they might be more likely to buy his album than his forced democracy.
4. I quote Matt Taibbi from Rolling Stone: “Nobody is that consistently stupid, sober.” Bush has a very sordid history with substance abuse. He nabbed himself a DUI in Canada and his own sister, Sharon, admits that he snorted coke and smoked joints at Camp David while Daddy Bush was president during the ‘80s. My guess is that from his permanently dazed look, Dubya is back on the doobies anyway.
3. He has a badass entourage. Did you see the National Enquirer over the summer? He’s supposedly having an affair with Condoleezza Rice. Bedding a band mate is a definite plus. (Fleetwood Mac made a career out of it, after all.) To top this off, Bush’s sidekick, Dick Cheney, popped a cap in another dude. Rock just loves this kind of controversy.
2. He could scream obscenities about those war-hating Dixie Chicks at the MTV Video Music Awards. He could perform a duet with Republican supporter, Jessica Simpson. (A country version of the classic Money [That’s What I Want]? Yeah, I’m cringing at that idea too.) Hell, he could finally do something for Katrina victims and headline a benefit concert at his Texas Ranch.
1. Like blues legend Robert Johnson, Bush has obviously sold his soul to Satan. All he would have to do is make an amendment to his original demand that would go something like this: “Dear Prince of Darkness, Change of plans. I need you to scratch the Halliburton oil monopoly request and get me on the top of the Billboard Charts pronto! Also, I need to have Madonna and Scott Storch on speed dial, an appearance on TRL, a multimillion dollar recording contract with Sony, and a Rolling Stone cover of me clad in black leather pants with a naked Heidi Klum clinging to me. Thank you! Love and kisses, Georgie.”
Come on, Republicans! Just let Dubya rock out!
ONE ON ONE WITH THE ROASTMASTER GENERAL
Jeffery Ross Interview
9/10
by Andrew Blake
“No one’s ever gotten mad at me,” said comedian Jeffrey Ross, over a plate of stale cheese in the basement of the CFA Friday night. These are big words for a man who makes his living off of “honoring people by dishonoring them,” as he put it. The comic/actor performed to over 1,800 people last week, and after a hour of showing the University at Buffalo that insult comedians are still alive and well, Ross talked a little bit with Generation.
Ross has been a staple of American standup for the past decade, experience that he demonstrates quite well while performing live. Landing his own show on Comedy Central back in 1996, Tompkins Square, Ross soon began popping up in comedic masterpieces left and right, as evident in his roles in the epic 2000 film The Adventures of Rocky and Bullwinkle or perhaps 2003’s Stuck On You, which showed America how funny Matt Damon and Greg Kinerar can be as Siamese twins. If these films have escaped you, as they sure have escaped me, you will most likely recall Ross from his hosting duties on several annual Comedy Central Roasts, where his insults have disgraced everyone from Rob Reiner to Hugh Hefner and Pamela Anderson. Finding his niche as appointed “Roastmaster General,” Ross now tours the world, which includes stops in the most undesirable of places.
Ross’ new film, Patriot Act: A Jeffrey Ross Home Movie, documents his recent five-day stint in Iraq performing for the troops. Approached by Drew Carey to join the U.S.O., Ross was wary at first, but now with two trips to Iraq under his belt, he proclaims his visit as, well, “an experience.” When he wasn’t performing or getting his room mortared, Ross put together what he calls “the funniest movie ever to come out of Iraq.” While most would think this is already too much handle, Ross continues to go on the road, hyping his new animated series Where My Dogs At? and reminding his audiences that just because they are in the crowd doesn’t mean they aren’t part of the show. On Friday night, Ross tore apart a select bunch of the crowd, most of whom were SA kids that undoubtedly deserved it. Ripping on the appearance of strangers may sound ridiculously juvenile, and it is, but Ross gets away with it, as he dishes it out flawlessly. “I never look backwards, no apologies, don’t back down,” he told me, and if you can’t pull it off, don’t sweat it. He admitted his belief in the age-old show business adage that you are only as good as your last show, and if there’s any truth to that, Jeff Ross is pretty great.
POP COLLAGE
Girl Talk - Night Ripper
9/10
by Peter Scheck
Girl Talk doesn’t do mash-ups, he’s a DJ doing what DJs do; he puts together his favorite songs, even if those songs aren’t the most obvious companions. It’s not cheap, it’s wonderfully crafted and, frankly, pretty amazing to hear.
Listed in the liner notes of Girl Talk’s Night Ripper are the names of around 200 groups or musicians that the DJ wishes to thank, from 2 Live Crew to Young Jeezy, from Tears for Fears to D12. But he’s not thanking them for supporting him early on in his career or playing with him on tour—he’s taken all of their music and put it together in 40 minutes.
How does it work? Surprisingly well, actually, considering you’re talking about all your favorite songs played right on top of one another. It’s all pop songs, melded together into a sort of all-star mix. And not just modern-day hip-hop stacked on top of old Public Enemy beats—each song is enriched by songs that you thought you’d never hear again. As far as I can tell, it’s entirely illegal. Let me give you a few examples.
Young Jeezy raps, “Money over here” over Nirvana’s “Scentless Apprentice,” affirming grunge’s dance potential. Its drum beat continues into the next segment, where Notorious B.I.G. comes in with “It was all a dream, I used to read Word Up magazine” with the piano of “Tiny Dancer.” It’s easy to forget the original samples in their presentation, maybe because the songs feel so natural together, as if they were made for their newest incarnation rather than their original mix. It’s hard to believe that Jay Z singing “I’m a Hustla” and David Banner’s “Play” fit so perfectly over Nine Inch Nails, but when you hear these songs more than once, they become real. Any other version sounds unnatural. The album will leave you with two-second bars in your head for days at a time, which is not good.
The trouble is these remixed versions are only novel a few times. Were I to hear this set live with a DJ in front of me, I could have several heart palpitations. But hearing the mixes by yourself becomes, well, boring after the first few listens. The surprises are uncovered, and you’re left knowing what the next song is before it comes in, making for a listen similar to one of those “journey through the past” rides at Disney World.
That said, a fascinating part of this CD comes from playing it a number of times. It sounds completely different through headphones, where every guitar chord can be another clue to what bizarre split second of a song you’re hearing. I don’t think I know a quarter of the samples on this CD, but every time I figure one out, I get a little bit excited. It’s like anthropology.
I can only imagine that seeing Girl Talk live is a life-changing experience. DJs are around to surprise the listener constantly, leaving him wondering what song will come on next. It’s exciting and wild, and Girl Talk has a much better idea of what his audience wants to hear than your radio. That’s funny.
I FRAGGED YOUR MOUNTAIN DEW
Video Game Expo Student Union
7/10
by Guy M. Scrivo
Last Wednesday, Mountain Dew and Best Buy invaded the Student Union with video game kiosks to suck in mouth-breathers that play Splinter Cell games.
The first game I must mention is Mortal Kombat: Armageddon. I’ve played some newer Mortal Kombat games in recent years, and they reminded me of how the violence outshadowed the gameplay as far back as I can remember in the series. But I truly enjoyed MK:A, as I played the classic Sub Zero and used Shotokan Karate to chop people in the neck. I then kicked a blind man in front of a subway train. X Box Live: Arcade is soon coming out with their equivalent of the vintage Sega Channel, which really excites me. Honorable mentions go out to GTA clone Scarface, which actually has a “cuss” button, which I believe to be a welcome addition to the genre, and Saint’s Row. I won’t waste time reviewing the sports games because you already know whether or not you find the series fun or not. This year’s version is merely prettier with a roster change.
I was standing there taking notes when, all of a sudden, a girl I would describe as outright mouthwatering popped up six inches away from my face. “Would you like to win $1,500 from Best Buy?” she asked. I imagined it was some sort of trap, as beautiful women don’t usually offer me free money, and swindlers aplenty operate legally on our campus. “No, thank you,” I said. She looked confused, and excused herself politely and left. My friend pointed out that it might contribute to an interesting article, so I tracked down the girl to ask her why she was offering free money.
As it turned out, her name was Heather, and she was not a Best Buy employee, but worked for a small local modeling agency. Best Buy apparently rents out models to hang out at their events, to use their model’s sorcery to get video game nerds to surrender their contact information. I asked her how many people had said no to her, and apparently I was the only person all day to not instantly go into a voodoo trance and surrender any information I have to the beautiful girl. Seconds later, sadly, I myself had succumbed to her model magic, and I entered her contest. I tracked her down right before the event was over to ask if anyone else had said no, as a social experiment, and I was the only one all day that so much as hesitated to give out personal information to a model.
The moral of the story is that sex sells, and if you want the male demographic to do backflips for your corporation, send a model to look pretty and ask them politely for their souls. They will be yours for the taking.
OVERSEXED? NO SUCH THING
Video Liquidators
8/10
by Elina Vaysbeyn
Oversexed yet? Me neither. Video Liquidators, located at 1770 Elmwood, is your number one sex superstore. It kind of looks like a trailer in the middle of an empty schoolyard, but have no fear: inside it is quite large and well lit. It took me at least 20 minutes to make my way around the entire store. If you and your significant other want to get it on any way other than missionary, this place will open your eyes.
Their selection of sex toys covered the entire right wall. Considering the wall’s massive length, there was a dildo or fake vagina for every taste. There were also various strap-ons. The Six-Inch Wee Willy was one that caught my eye immediately. Skin-colored and firm, yet soft, Wee Willy was created with a touch of realism. More frightening than impressive, a dildo called The Great American Challenge looked like a chainsaw turned penis. It was almost two feet long with veiny protrusions in its thick gel shaft. “Challenge” is an appropriate title. Another item that mesmerized me with its name was the Jelly Soft Vibrating Clitoral Stimulator With a Pleasure Beaded Shaft for Vaginal and Anal Ecstasy (peculiarly shaped like a penguin). After the five minutes it took to process that unnecessarily complicated name, I was totally turned on. There were more, of course, such as the FunFlower, which has a pretty neat looking sunflower at the outer edge, so that when it’s all the way in, your vagina/asshole looks like a sunflower.
Their collection of videos was massive as well. There were cheesy old pornos on 8mm film with names like Swedish Classics and the hairiest vaginas since the ‘70s. Neighborhood Watch, Analtown, USA, and Crazy Mad Fucking were all on VHS, as were many other amusing titles. In the more modern DVD aisle, I found Money Makes Me Horny and Lil’ Jon and the Eastside Boyz: American Sex Series. There were the usuals as well: Ron Jeremy’s videos, Jenna Jameson, and the Pamela and Tommy sex tape.
Liquidators also has lingerie (not the classiest stuff you could find), Halloween costumes, and tons of leather bondage gear for your next pain/pleasure-filled experience. Their blow-up dolls include a Jenna Jameson likeness, Dasha, complete with a squirting and vibrating cooch, and Nasty Jane, who apparently has a “willing tight ass” and a “hungry snatch.” John Holmes, a male blow-up doll, seemed to be aimed at male connoisseurs, as he was advertised to have a “deep tight butt.”
Liquidators also has a movie theatre in the back with three rooms, each playing a different movie. The cost per ticket is $10. I was curious and wanted to go in, but changed my mind after contemplating the possibly cum-stained seats. The best part about V.L. is their gift-wrapping option and clearance bin, but chances are you won’t be the first to experience Fran’s Fantastic Firm Asshole if you find it in there.
A TWO-DAY WAR
Nelson DeMille - Wild Fire
8/10
by Joe Speranza
Reading a Nelson DeMille book is an adventure. Reading a DeMille book in less than two days, in two sittings, is a trip. An experienced Vietnam veteran, he burst onto the national scene with The General’s Daughter, a book turned into a feature film about a murder at West Point. Reading a DeMille book, which is usually full of chilling references to his combat days, is almost like watching an entire season of 24 in one day; you are asking for a scrambled brain.
Over the last two days, I read his newest book, Wild Fire, and didn’t really do much else. At 500 pages, it was actually a short book by his standards, but, like the 24 screenwriters, he manages to cram a lot of material into a small amount of space.
“Wild Fire,” as the reader discovers early in the book, is a secret plan developed by the U.S. military to automatically retaliate if the country gets nuked. But the plan calls for only a 30-minute delay before deploying the bombs; if the President can’t find the guilty party, it is then presumed to be somewhere in the Middle East. Therefore, “Wild Fire” just bombs the hell out of the entire region.
The antagonist, an oil executive named Bain Madox, gets wind of this plan through his friends in Washington and formulates his own plan to bomb two American cities, forcing America to retaliate against the assumed guilty party, Islam.
Sounds scary, right?
Well, it is, but the author does a hell of a job bringing light to a very disturbing plot. The whole “provoke a nation to nuke another one” plot has been done already, most notably in Tom Clancy’s The Sum of All Fears¸ but what makes the book so enjoyable is the humor sprinkled throughout the pages. DeMille, I’ve always thought, is a combination of the technical Clancy and the humorous Carl Hiassen. He’s legitimately great at both styles; he’ll teach you something about weapons, but you’ll be laughing the rest of the time.
The nucleus of DeMille’s comedy is John Corey, an Anti-Terrorist Task Force official whose responsibility it is to stop Madox’s crazy plan before it starts. Corey is an unrelenting wiseass, and, if you have any sense of humor at all, you will find comedy on every page.
This is what makes DeMille’s books so captivating for me, and, evidently, for millions of other readers. A character with something to say about everything, like Corey, could get annoying after a while, but somehow DeMille is adept at managing humor and reality. Essentially, he has created the perfect character. Corey has appeared in three of DeMille’s books, and it’s no coincidence that each one has been a great read.
In Wild Fire, Corey and his wife, Kate, an FBI agent, team up to bring down Madox and his friends. The suspense doesn’t lie within the actual plot to destroy the Middle East, since the reader already knows the plan in the beginning, but instead with how Corey and Kate figure everything out. He creates suspense by following the two characters as they search for clues, since they know nothing about the plan. This allows DeMille a window to really milk Corey’s wit for all it’s worth. Since the readers aren’t kept in the dark about the “Wild Fire” plan, we focus instead on Corey and Kate as they interact with themselves, and others.
The book, unfortunately, has some problems that I’m actually surprised the author didn’t catch. First, the story takes place in the beautiful, intriguing Adirondack wilderness, an area almost directly north of Albany. At a certain point in the book, John and Kate are forced to travel to New York City, but must do so discreetly. They discuss driving to Toronto and flying to New York City from there. However, anyone familiar with the area would notice that Toronto is so far away that it shouldn’t even have come up in discussion.
Also, the characters discuss driving to New York City, and somehow they conclude that it would be an eleven hour trip, when in reality it would take maybe five. I know I’m nitpicking, but hey, I paid 20 bucks for this book. I expect someone to catch those things.
Wild Fire, as I said before, is a relatively short book, and the plot is not as extensive as DeMille’s previous books. This is both good and bad. On one hand, as I mentioned before, the lack of meticulous plotting allows the author to bring more humor to the story. But seriously, Corey is hilarious. You can’t help but laugh at a man who can get a sexist remark into a conversation about airline cargo. On the other hand, everything seemed rushed. Corey and Kate figured everything out too quickly. For example, imagine putting a Rubix cube together for the first time. The shorter story allowed more humor, but less plotting.
Humor aside, though, Wild Fire is a humbling tale. You don’t need the book to tell you that a nuclear device in the wrong hands can have disastrous effects, but it does make you think about whether or not we have a secret contingency plan. The author believes we do, to some variation, which is a scary thought.
As you all know, we have a holiday weekend coming up, so pick up a copy of Wild Fire and kill some travel time.
