I don't think I've ever laughed out loud reading. I laughed out loud at least once every essay here. There's something I call The Godfather Syndrome: the volume of praise heaped on a piece of media is inversely related to my desire to consume it. The more people praised The Godfather, the more I postponed watching it, because it felt like homework, and the less inclined I was to actually enjoy it when I did watch it, because now I'm more concerned with understanding why it's considered the Greatest Film Of All Time. Comedy is even more prone to The Godfather Syndrome, and comedy writing even more so.

So I'll just recommend that, so long as you can understand English, you should read this book. It's not the worst thing I've ever read. ( )

Occasional laughs out loud, but mostly mild and forgettable essays. ( )

Occasional laughs out loud, but mostly mild and forgettable essays. ( )

Less horribly offensive than And Another Thing but if I have learned anything this last month it is that I should stop reading essay collections by people who star in TV shows I like and just watch the shows. ( )

I can’t finish this book. Okay…I can, but I don’t want to. You see, if I finished it, then I would not be able to do a first reading of the pieces in it. I would not be able to say “Hey, I feel like getting squeamish with laughter by reading a Mike Nelson piece.”

Oh, I sure, I could reread these comic essays, from the co-creator of TV’s legendary “Mystery Science Theater 3000.” I have tried that, for some of the pieces. Over time, I do forget some of the one-liners, some of the dead-on takes on the surrealistic modern horrors like “customer service” lines and stadium-sized outlet stores. But that unique jolt of sweet agony that comes from laughing until you cry—that I get only with first reads.

To give a sense of what’s in the book: Mike Nelson is what Dave Barry should be. The pieces are mostly bite-sized (around 3000 words) and they include Nelson’s takes on contemporary cultural and social phenomena. SUV drivers with “Pat Riley” hair. The inexplicable proliferation of Radio Shacks. Nude elderly men clipping their toenails in locker rooms.

Nelson’s basic outlook is a common one among comic writers: “I can’t believe the world has come to this.” Yet, he seems to make that attitude fresh and unique. He avoids the jadedness of a Rooney or Queenan, while at the same time comes off as much more edgy than when a Seinfeld or Brenner trades mike for pen.

MSTies (fans of MST 3000) should be pleasantly surprised. If you thought Nelson was funny as a wise-cracking movie-goer, this book will prove that the show barely scratched the surface of Nelson’s comic talent. And yes, the mind-boggling reference humor is there. Dennis Miller, with his kitchen sink approach, may forever be known as the reference humorist; but Nelson is Kasparov to Miller’s Deep Blue. He reels out the references only at the perfect moments, and only the reference that make the reader wonder “How did this ever remind him of that!?”

My only quibble (besides the fact that Nelson has not released as many books as Stephen King) is a couple of the essays come off as first drafts. The essay on Radio Shack, for example, does not seem as funny as it could have been. It was funny, but it made me want to call Nelson and say “Hey Mike, try this one again. I know that you can find a funnier angle on RS than you did.” ( )