Shambling Towards Hiroshima by James Morrow
reviewed by Matthew Hughes
Remember those at-the-time underappreciated halcyon days between the fading of childhood and the onset of adulthood, when the only consequence of not rising before noon was to have missed a lecture on the poetry of Sir Phillip Sydney? We could stay up all night rapping with friends or roommates, altering our minds with wine or tequila or wacky-backy, and riffing on cool thought-nuggets like, "Whoa, dude, if God's dead, who's gonna dispose of the body?"

The Eternal Footman by James Morrow
reviewed by David Soyka
The author ponders the age old question of why God oft-times seems to be so uncaring. Some may not find the answer particularly comforting, and certainly there are those who will find it sacrilegious. But if you happen to share the author's view that what's really sacrilegious is a God who permits evil, you'll be moved to nod your head in agreement. Not to mention chuckling at the absurdity of it all.

Blameless in Abaddon by James Morrow
reviewed by Steven H Silver
Morrow's satirical writings convey the sense of an author who believes in some sort of divine creature (although not necessarily religious) and who is trying, through writing, to understand.