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This is a question Hypocrisy

Overheard the other day: "I've told you before - stop swearing in front of the kids, for fuck's sake." Your tales of double standards please.

(, Thu 19 Feb 2009, 12:21)
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(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 9:27, 3 replies)
If we had both chosen the same book that would have been slightly weird!
(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 9:28, closed)
I looked at yours before putting mine in
would've been pretty daft to put the same book!
(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 10:39, closed)
Ah, thought there was a bit of "great minds thinking alike" type stuff there

(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 11:00, closed)
They aren't the REAL devil though! Not like God's book.
(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 9:30, closed)
The book is shit.
"Finally, the other side of the story," claims the front cover of this book. And maybe it is. Lucifer is offered a chance at redemption... as long as he can survive on Earth without doing too much naughty stuff. His shell while on Earth is the soon-to-be-vacated body of one Declan Gunn, failed author, who is just about to slit open his wrists while taking a bath. Gunn's soul is whisked off to Purgatory for the nonce, and Lucifer finds out what it's like to be human. Thus commences a whirlwind tour of the human condition, replete with:
* sensory overload as Lucifer looks at flowers
* anal sex
* more sensory overload when smelling flowers
* anal sex
* yet more sensory overload with narcotics
* anal sex
* Lucifer playing mind-games with Gunn's putative girlfriend
* anal sex
* occasional meanderings about Lucifer's history with The Man Upstairs
* anal sex
etc. etc. etc.

It would appear that Glen Duncan views the human condition as a merry-go-round of buggery (preferably consensual, but no matter if it isn't) and the satisfying of base needs such as food, sleep and psychological warfare. Making an anagram (Glen Duncan, Declan Gunn, geddit?) of his name demonstrates just how much more clever than the rest of us mere mortals Glen Duncan is, something which Duncan takes great pains to beat into the reader's head time and time again. One can only wonder why Duncan ever published the book in the first place, since evidently no-one else is remotely clever enough to appreciate Duncan's work to its fullest.

I, Lucifer adequately serves to pass the time while stuck on a train during the morning and evening commute, but isn't worth re-reading. Get the album of the same name, "inspired" by this book, performed by (the real) Tuesday Weld, instead. It's much better.
(, Wed 25 Feb 2009, 12:00, closed)

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