Reviewed by Kevin Costain on

1 of 5 stars

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This Milo fellow is just not funny. I sense he thinks he is, and that he's in on his little joke. So, I suppose he writes for himself. Mental masturbation on paper.

Like a moth chasing a flame, Milo seems to chase the perfect one-liner jab at his left-wing daemons. That he never really finds it it probably the point. If he did, maybe he'd be consumed by the heat. It's clearly "humorist" and "provocateur" that Milo styles himself as, but the humor is quite banal. I was hoping for something a tad more clever than some lame attack at everyone and everyone not named Trump.

You'll never know where the gauche-Milo ends and some sense of a real-Milo begins in this book. Of course, maybe that's what your looking for, so go for it. Anyone else, I'd skip it.

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  • Started reading
  • 22 July, 2019: Finished reading
  • 22 July, 2019: Reviewed