Product Description

When you're drowning in the corporate world, you'll need a mentor to keep you from going under.

Bukkakeworld is the conscious evolution of the staid three-act narrative horror genre. It's a book about YOU, the corporate lackey, the indentured, the subordinate. Stuck in a job you cannot stomach, under a manager you want to annihilate, in a corporation that wants to grind you into nothing more than human grease to lubricate its inhuman profit-making machine.

You are not alone. There are literally millions of you all over the world, the true Samaritans of contemporary democracy. You take it in the face every working day of your life. There seems to be no respite from your suffering, no reward for your hardship. But even in the depths of your drowning desperation, there is a light, a tiny light, beaming out to save you.

She looks nothing like you. She is clean and tidy. The constant drizzle that rots everything it touches doesn't seem to settle on her. She has a light in her eyes, like a terrorist bomb exploding very, very slowly. Frame by frame, a new star blooming. She is your corporate messiah. But who is her little furry companion, Kitten? And what of the sinister chrome-like Glimpsers? How do they tie in to a swirling narrative that drags you through a death camp of corporate revelation?

Bukkakeworld is a savage indictment of the corporate mentality, a challenging, twisted book that assails the underpinnings of modern society and does so much more than spit in your face.

Product Details

• Amazon Sales Rank: #3206038 in Books
• Published on: 2008-07-15
• Original language: English
• Number of items: 1
• Binding: Paperback
• 172 pages

About the Author
Mike Philbin (born 1966 in St Helens, Merseyside) is an artist, editor and author residing in Oxford in the United Kingdom. He spent the late 1980s and early 1990s exhibiting his brand of psycho-realist paintings in one-man shows in St Helens, Liverpool and London. Philbin is the editor of the Chimeraworld anthology, an advocate of collaborative fiction and the death of genre.

Customer Reviews

What a predictable piece of tripe
There is a reason why this book is self-published. It is an utterly predictable, egotistical, self-centered, "arteestic", boring piece of tripe. There is nothing new in it, and nothing entertaining. Glad I borrowed it instead of buying it. I hurled it across the room after the first ten pages. Don't waste YOUR money. I would rather read the Dr. Bronner's soap label.

Didn't quite make it
If you make it all the way to Kafka-esque, then you really have something. But if you miss the mark even just a little, you have nothing but irritating prose. This guy missed the mark by a wide margin. I'll admit that I only made it through half the book before I started flipping through pages and ultimately decided that I have better things to do. I didn't actually have anything better to do but the sentiment was the same.

Basically, spooge = lifes irritations and insults. Protagonist takes himself a bit too seriously and hilarity ensues.

A strange, entertaining read
This book was not as predictable as I orginally thought it was going to be, I underestimated the writer when I thought so. There seemed to be no limits as to where this story might go, and it went a lot of places. The writer did not put his imagination on a leash to walk through pages of easily discernable metaphors for corporate abuse. Yes, there's the bukakke shooting down from all directions and the constant degradation, but that's just the setup. The true heart of the story lies in the events that take place within the story. A story so weird and alien, written in an amazing style of prose, it'll be impossible for me to forget.