Something very strange happened to me recently. I loved a book, thoroughly enjoyed reading it, couldn’t put it down at points, and still have absolutely no idea what the hell was going on. None whatsoever.

Post-apocalyptic Melbourne again. Not my favourite place at all, although in TOBACCO-STAINED MOUNTAIN GOAT we don’t seem to be too far in the future, and we don’t seem to be that far from current day Melbourne, particularly in the way the city is divided into the have’s and the have nots. The division is by way of the Dome – uptown paradise where rampant consumerism and mindless bullshit rules (doesn’t sound all that far-fetched does it?). Outside the Dome we’re talking dangerous, run down, mean streets, bars, fast food, and nasty goings on (another tick in the not that difficult to believe column).
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