Laughter of a Scoundrel
Laughter of a Scoundrel
We're Not Doomed Yet...
Laughter of a Scoundrel
This book is that laughter. You, dear reader are to be that scoundrel. Howling mercilessly at a culture that has lost itself to grift, hysteria and charlatanry; it is a humble, yet crumbling hope to call for, if nothing else, a pause and moment to breathe. In a world demanding and insisting that all within it move mindlessly at light speed, it requires a scoundrel of mirth and merit to simply say "no."
"Nicholas Goroff's writing is not a breath of fresh air so much as it is a sharp whiff of smelling salts for the apathetic and cynical political attitudes present in 21st Century America, or a slap across the face from a good friend who only has your best interests at heart. It doesn't matter how many "breaths of fresh air" one takes in if those gulps of oxygen are in the middle of an episode of hyperventilation, taken deep from within a coma of disassociation from one's society, or inhaled through gritted teeth bringing droplets of angry spittle along for the ride inside of the windpipe."
-Justin Little, author of The Misadventures of a Jilted Journalist
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We're Not Doomed Yet...
Laughter of a Scoundrel
This book is that laughter. You, dear reader are to be that scoundrel. Howling mercilessly at a culture that has lost itself to grift, hysteria and charlatanry; it is a humble, yet crumbling hope to call for, if nothing else, a pause and moment to breathe. In a world demanding and insisting that all within it move mindlessly at light speed, it requires a scoundrel of mirth and merit to simply say "no."
"Nicholas Goroff's writing is not a breath of fresh air so much as it is a sharp whiff of smelling salts for the apathetic and cynical political attitudes present in 21st Century America, or a slap across the face from a good friend who only has your best interests at heart. It doesn't matter how many "breaths of fresh air" one takes in if those gulps of oxygen are in the middle of an episode of hyperventilation, taken deep from within a coma of disassociation from one's society, or inhaled through gritted teeth bringing droplets of angry spittle along for the ride inside of the windpipe."
-Justin Little, author of The Misadventures of a Jilted Journalist
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