Boomsday

( 44 )

Overview

BOOMSDAY'S heroine is Cassandra Devine, a charismatic 29-year-old blogger who incites massive political turmoil when, outraged over mounting Social Security debt, she politely suggests that Baby Boomers be given government incentives to kill themselves by age 75. Her modest proposal catches fire with millions of her outraged peers ("Generation Whatever") and an ambitious Senator seeking to gain the youth vote in his presidential campaign.
With the help of Washington's greatest ...
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Overview

BOOMSDAY'S heroine is Cassandra Devine, a charismatic 29-year-old blogger who incites massive political turmoil when, outraged over mounting Social Security debt, she politely suggests that Baby Boomers be given government incentives to kill themselves by age 75. Her modest proposal catches fire with millions of her outraged peers ("Generation Whatever") and an ambitious Senator seeking to gain the youth vote in his presidential campaign.
With the help of Washington's greatest spin doctor, the blogger and the politician try to ride the issue of euthanasia for Boomers (they call it "Transitioning") all the way to the White House, over the forceful objections of the Religious Right and, of course, Baby Boomers, who are deeply offended by demonstrations on the golf courses of their retirement resorts.
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Editorial Reviews

Judy Budnitz
Buckley isn't singling out the younger generation. He's democratic in his derision: boomers, politicians, the media, the public relations business, the Christian right and the Catholic Church get equal treatment. Yet despite the abundance of targets and the considerable display of wit, the satire here is not angry enough—not Swiftian enough—to elicit shock or provoke reflection; it's simply funny. All the drama takes place in a bubble of elitism, open only to power players—software billionaires, politicians, lobbyists, religious leaders. The general population is kept discretely offstage. Even the two groups at the center of the debate are reduced to polling statistics. There are secondhand reports of them acting en masse: 20-somethings attacking retirement-community golf courses, boomers demanding tax deductions for Segways. But no individual faces emerge. Of course, broadness is a necessary aspect of satire, but here reductiveness drains any urgency from the proceedings. There's little sense that lives, or souls, are at stake.
—The Washington Post
Janet Maslin
Bingo. Again. Mr. Buckley has a worrisomely tough time laying the groundwork for this premise, but his idea soon yields the exquisitely dizzy, Wodehouse-style mischief that is his specialty. Although his jumping-off point is generational warfare, it leads straight into a riotous morass of political ambition, with a screwball array of special-interest schemers embroiled in intricate, back-stabbing machinations. As one character sweetly summarizes this author’s outlook: “My, my, my, how very different are the workings of government from what we all read about in books as children. I wonder, do the Founders weep in heaven?”
— The New York Times
Publishers Weekly

Despite the technicality of her birth at the tail end of the baby boom in 1964, comedian and actress Janeane Garofalo embodies a unique combination of edge and sincerity perfect for Buckley's tale of Generation X activism. At 29, Washington "PR chick" Cassandra Devine launches a grassroots entitlement reform movement but quickly determines that only shock can break through people's fog of apathy, so she floats a plan for baby boomer suicide-dubbed "voluntary transitioning"-as a means to preserve Social Security for future generations. Garofalo effectively portrays Cassandra's angst amid the absurd scenario of her macabre treatise-inspired by Jonathan Swift's A Modest Proposal-entering the public policy mainstream. Garofalo also demonstrates tremendous vocal range with male characters, especially prolife leader Rev. Gideon Payne and Cassandra's love interest and ally Sen. Randolph K. Jefferson. Yet, like his protagonist, Buckley seems compelled to address the topic at hand only through the boldest possible strokes of the satirical brush. Garofalo certainly does the colorful characters justice, but listeners may ultimately feel weighed down by the tone and scope of the overall experience. Simultaneous release with the Twelve hardcover (Reviews, Feb. 26). (May)

Copyright 2007 Reed Business Information
Library Journal

This latest satire from Buckley (Thank You for Not Smoking) tackles the looming Social Security crisis, which will be triggered when all the baby boomers begin retiring, an occasion known as Boomsday. Cassandra Devine, a 29-year-old Washington PR flack, kicks off the novel's action by suggesting on her blog that members of her cohort, the "Whatever" generation, protest by taking action against gated communities, known harbors of soon-to-retire boomers. The under-thirties respond—and how—leading to the eventual introduction of a bill that gives tax benefits to baby boomers willing to "transition" (read: kill themselves) by age 65. Buckley brings a cast of intriguing characters to the table, including a Southern evangelist, Cassandra's estranged dot.com billionaire father, a wily President and his ruthless right-hand man, and the charismatic senator who cosponsors the bill. Though the plot loses steam toward the end, the premise is original, the dialog crackles, and Buckley doesn't disappoint in the humor department. Recommended.
—Amy Watts

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Product Details

  • ISBN-13: 9780446697972
  • Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
  • Publication date: 5/16/2008
  • Edition description: Reprint
  • Pages: 336
  • Sales rank: 366,123
  • Product dimensions: 7.90 (w) x 5.12 (h) x 0.92 (d)

Meet the Author

Christopher Buckley
Christopher Buckley, "the quintessential political novelist of his time" according to Fortune magazine, is the winner of the distinguished ninth annual Thurber Prize for American Humor, Tom Wolfe has described him as "one of the funniest writers in the English language."
Buckley is the author of eleven books, many of them national bestsellers, including Thank You For Smoking, God Is My Broker, No Way To Treat A First Lady, and Florence of Arabia. His books have been translated into over a dozen languages, including Russian and Korean.
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Read an Excerpt

Boomsday


By Christopher Buckley

Twelve

Copyright © 2007 Christopher Taylor Buckley
All right reserved.

ISBN: 978-0-446-57981-0


Chapter One

Cassandra Devine was not yet thirty, but she was already tired.

"Media training," they called it. She'd been doing it for years, but it still had the ring of "potty training."

Today's media trainee was the chief executive officer of a company that administered hospitals, twenty-eight of them throughout the southeastern United States. In the previous year, it had lost $285 million and one-third of its stock market value. During that same period, the client had been paid $3.8 million in salary, plus a $1.4 million "performance bonus."

Corporate Crime Scene, the prime-time investigative television program, was doing an exposé and had requested an interview. In her negotiations with the show's producers, Cass had learned that they had footage of him boarding the company jet ($35 mil) wearing a spectacularly loud Hawaiian shirt and clenching a torpedo-shaped-indeed, torpedo-size-cigar in his teeth while hefting a bag of expensively gleaming golf clubs. Unfortunate as it was, this footage was only the appetizer. The main cinematic course was video of the company's recent annual "executive retreat" at a Bahamas resort of dubious taste. It showed the client, today's trainee, along with his fellow executive retreatants-doubtless exhausted after a hard day of budget cutting andcrunching numbers-drinking rum punch dispensed from the breasts of anatomically correct female ice sculptures, to the accompaniment of a steel drum band, a limbo bar, and scantily clad waitresses dressed as-oh dear-mermaids. It would all make for a spirited discussion on the upcoming episode of CCS, especially when juxtaposed against the footage they were also running of patients parked like cars in an L.A. traffic jam in litter-strewn corridors, moaning for attention, some of them duct-taped to the wheelchairs.

"So they don't fall out," the client explained.

Cass took a sip from her seventh or eighth Red Bull of the day and suppressed a sigh, along with the urge to plunge her ballpoint pen into the client's heart. Assuming he had one.

"That last one was a lot better," she said. They'd done four practice interviews so far, with Cass pretending to be the interviewer from the television program. "If you have the energy, I'd like to do just one more. This time, I'd like you to concentrate on smiling and looking straight into the camera. Also, could you please not do that sideways thing with your eyes? It makes you look ..." Like a sleazebag. "It works against the overall tone of you know ... transparency." The man was as transparent as a bucket of tar.

"I really don't know why we're even agreeing to the interview." He sounded peeved, as though he'd been frivolously talked into attending a performance of The Marriage of Figaro when he'd much rather be at the office, helping humanity, devising new and more cost-effective methods of duct-taping terminal patients to their wheelchairs so they could be parked in corridors all day.

"Terry feels that this is the way to go. In cases like this ..." The client shot her an "I dare you to call me a criminal" glance of defiance. "That is, where the other side has a strong, uh, visual presentation, that it's best to meet them in the center of the ring, so to speak. We're looking to project an image of total ... up-frontness."

The client snorted.

"That no one is more upset at the"-she glanced at her notes to see what artful term of mendacity they were using at the moment-"? 'revenue downtick.' And that you and management are"-she looked down at her notes again, this time just to avoid eye contact-"working around the clock to make the, uh, difficult decisions." Like where to hold next year's "executive retreat." Vegas? Macao? Sodom?

The client generously consented to one final practice interview. He left muttering about persecution and complaining of the indignity of having to fly back to Memphis via commercial aircraft. Terry had sternly forbade him the company jet. Tomorrow, the client would spend an hour in a soup kitchen ladling out faux humanity to Memphis's wretched, an act of conspicuous compassion that would be inconspicuously video-recorded by one of his aides. If Corporate Crime Scene declined to air it, perhaps it might come in handy down the line-say, during sentencing deliberation. Cass sent him off with a DVD of his practice interviews. With any luck, they'd cause him to jump out his corner office window.

Cass wanted to go home to her apartment off Dupont Circle, nuke a frozen macaroni-and-cheese, pour herself a goldfish bowl-size glass of red wine, put on her comfy jammies, get under the covers, and watch reruns of Law & Order or Desperate Housewives or even the new reality show, Green Card, in which illegal (but good-looking) Mexicans had to make it across the U.S. border, past the Border Patrol and minutemen and fifty miles of broiling desert, to the finish line. The winner got sponsorship for a green card and the privilege of digging ditches in some other broiling-or, if he was lucky, frigid-part of the country.

Yes, that would be lovely, she thought, then realized with a pang that she hadn't posted anything on her blog since before work that morning. There was an important Senate vote on Social Security scheduled for that day. She hadn't even had time to glance at CNN or Google News to see how it had turned out.

The light was on in Terry's office. She entered and collapsed like a suddenly deflated pool toy into a chair facing his desk.

Without turning from his computer screen, Terry said, "Let me guess. You had a wonderful, fulfilling day." He continued to type as he spoke.

Terry Tucker had built a successful PR firm, Tucker Strategic Communications, on the premise that those with a debatable claim to humanity will pay through the snout to appear even a little less deplorable. Terry had represented them all, from mink ranchers to toxic waste dumpers, dolphin netters, unzipped politicians, makers of obesity-inducing soft drinks, the odd mobster, and pension fund skimmers. Terry had apprenticed under the legendary Nick Naylor, at the now defunct Tobacco Institute. Cass had been with the firm for eight years. Terry had promoted her quickly, given her regular raises, and promoted her to partner. He'd never once made a pass at her. He treated her like a kid sister or niece.

"Jesus, Terry. Where do you find these clients? In Dante's Inferno?"

He kept typing. "Huh?"

"The man's ... I've seen more sympathetic people on the E! Channel's True Hollywood Stories."

Terry's fingers went on clickety-clicking. "This 'war criminal,' as you put it, is a client of Tucker Strategic Communications. Someday, if all the crap we learned in Sunday school is correct, he will answer to a higher authority. Higher even than a morally superior twenty-nine-year-old PR chick. In the meantime, our job as strategic communicators is to-"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah. I just-couldn't we find like maybe just one client who wasn't ... I don't know ..."

"Evil?"

"Well ... yeah. Basically."

Terry stopped typing, leaned back in his leather chair, massaged the bridge of his nose with thumb and forefinger, exhaled pensively. Theatrically, the gesture was just shy of a sigh.

"Do you know what I'm working on right now? What I was working on, before you came in to do an existential download?"

"Let me guess. Raising money, pro bono, for juvenile diabetes?"

"The only time, young lady, you'll hear the phrase pro bono around this office is if someone is expressing a favorable opinion of an Irish rock star. No, I was doing talking points. For our Brazilian client."

"The one who wants to relocate the Indian tribe to make room for the gold mine?"

"Uh-hum. Were you aware that in 1913, this same tribe-I can't pronounce the name-killed two Mormon missionaries?"

"Well, in that case, obviously they deserve whatever they get."

Terry frowned at the screen. "I know, needs work. Maybe if they fed them to piranhas or something. I'll massage it. Want to get a pop? Defaming indigenous people always makes me thirsty."

Ordinarily, Cass loved going out for a drink with Terry. Listening to his war stories about defending the tobacco industry with Nick Naylor.

"Can't tonight. Gotta go back and blog."

"Gotta go back and blog." Terry shook his head. "I'm offering martinis and mentoring. But if you want to go home and blog ..." He looked at Cass with his "kind uncle" expression. "Excuse me for asking, but do you by any chance have a life?"

"It's important, what I do."

"I didn't say it wasn't." He reached out and typed. Onto the screen came the blog's home page.

Concerned Americans for Social Security Amendment Now, Debt Reduction and Accountability

"How many hours did it take to come up with that acronym?" "I know, bit of a mouthful."

"She was a goddess of something."

"Daughter of the king of Troy. She warned that the city would fall to the Greeks. They ignored her."

"And? What happened?"

"You're kidding, right?"

"Just educate me."

"Troy fell. It was on the news last night. Cassandra was raped. By Ajax the lesser."

"Is that why they called the other one Ajax the major? He wasn't a rapist."

"Whatever. She was taken back to Greece by Agamemnon-you remember him, right?-as a concubine. They were both killed by his wife, Clytemnestra. In revenge for his sacrificing her daughter, Electra."

"A heartwarming story. No wonder Greeks look unhappy."

"Cassandra is sort of a metaphor for catastrophe prediction. This is me. It's what I do. During my downtime. When I'm not media-training our wonderful clients."

"It's none of my business-"

"Whenever you say, 'It's none of my business,' I know I'm in for a five-minute lecture."

"Just listen. Your generation, you're incapable of listening. It's from growing up with iPods in your ears. I was going to say, Kid, you're young, you're attractive-you're very attractive. You should be out, you know, getting ... you know ..."

"Laid? Thank you. That's so nurturing."

"You look so, I don't know, oppressed. You work your butt off here-by the way, I'm giving you a bonus for the Japanese whaler account, good work, sales of whale meat in Tokyo are up six percent-and then you go home and stay up all night blogging with people who look like the Unabomber. It's not healthy."

"Finished?"

"No. Instead of staring at a computer screen all night and railing against the government and shrieking that the sky is falling, you should be out exchanging bodily fluids and viruses with the rest of your generation."

"Earth to Terry. The sky is falling. You saw about the Bank of Tokyo?"

"No. I've been working on the Brazilian thing."

"It led the news this morning. For the first time in history, the Bank of Tokyo declined to buy new-issue U.S. Treasury bills. Do you realize what that means?"

"They already have enough of our debt?"

"Precisely. Do you get the significance of that? The largest single purchaser of U.S. government debt just declined to finance any more of it. As in our debt. Meanwhile, and not coincidentally, the first of your generation have started to retire. You know what they're calling it?"

"Happy Hour?"

"Boomsday."

"Good word."

"Mountainous debt, a deflating economy, and seventy-seven million people retiring. The perfect economic storm." Not bad, Cass thought, making a mental note to file it away for the blog. "And what is the Congress doing? Raising taxes-on my generation-to pay for, among other things, a monorail system in Alaska."

Cass realized suddenly that she was standing, leaning forward over his desk, and shouting at him. Terry, meanwhile, was looking up at her with something like alarm.

"Sorry," she said. "I didn't mean to ... Long day."

"Listen, kiddo," Terry said, "that resort in the Bahamas where our client Albert Schweitzer threw the party with the ice sculptures ... why don't you go down there and check it out? We'll call it research, make Albert pay. Least he could do. Take your time. Stay for a few days. Bring a bathing suit and a tube of tanning oil and a trashy paperback. Take a load off. Get ... you know ..." He waved his hands in the air.

"Laid?"

"Whatever."

"You use that word more than I do. It's my generation's word, not yours."

"It's useful. It may actually be your generation's major semantic contribution so far. It's pure Teflon."

"What's Teflon?"

"They coat frying pans with it so stuff doesn't stick. Spin-off of the space program. Like Tang."

"Tang?"

"Never mind. Look, go home. Go to the Bahamas. Hang an 'Out to Lunch' on the blog or something."

He was already back to typing by the time she reached the door. On her way out, he shouted, "If you get any brainstorms on how to make my Brazilian Indian tribe look like bloodthirsty savages, e-mail me."

The computer screen was glowing at her in the dark of her apartment. A prior generation would have called it psychedelic; to hers it was just screen saving.

She showered, changed into comfy jammies, ate a peanut-butter PowerBar, and washed it down with Red Bull. She unscrewed the safety cap of her bottle of NoDoz, hesitated. If she took one, she wouldn't get to sleep until at least four. Unless she popped a Tylenol PM at three. She wondered about the long-term effects of this pharmaceutical roller-coaster ride. Early Alzheimer's, probably. Or one of those drop-dead-on-the-sidewalk heart attacks like Japanese salarymen have. She popped the NoDoz. She could sleep in tomorrow. Terry wasn't expecting her in the office. She wanted a cigarette but had given them up (this morning). She chomped down on a piece of Nicorette gum and felt her capillaries surge and tingle. Shock and awe. She flexed her fingers. Showtime.

She logged on. There were 573 messages waiting for her. Her Google profile had searched for reports on the Senate vote and auto-sent them to her inbox. She read. They'd voted in favor of Social Security payroll tax "augmentation." Jerks. Couldn't bring themselves to call it a "tax increase." She felt her blood heating up. (Either that or the effects of the pill.) Soon energy was surging in her veins in equal proportion to outrage. Her fingers were playing across the keyboard like Alicia de Larrocha conjuring a Bach partita.

She typed: "The buck has been passed to a new generation-ours!"

She stared at it on the screen, fiddled with the font color and point size. It occurred to her that as most of her readers were in their twenties and thirties, they would have no idea it was a steal from John F. Kennedy's 1961 inaugural speech, "The torch has been passed to a new generation." Even fewer would know that she'd grafted it onto Harry Truman's famous slogan "The buck stops here." Whatever. Cassandra was starting to get hits from older readers. And the mainstream media were also starting to take notice. The Washington Post had called CASSANDRA "the bulletin board for angry, intelligent Gen-W's." Gen-W being short for "generation whatever." Even one or two advertisers were starting to come in, feigning interest.

In a moment of weakness, she'd posted a photograph of herself on the home page, thinking it might bring in a few male viewers. It did. A third of the 573 messages were from men who wanted to have sex with her. She was, as Terry had put it, an attractive girl or, to use the word of her generation, "hot"-naturally blond, with liquid, playful eyes and lips that seemed always poised to bestow a kiss, giving her a look of intelligence in contention with sensuality. She had a figure that, when displayed in a bikini or thong at the resort in the Bahamas, would draw sighs from any passing male. All in all, it was not the package you'd expect to find sitting in front of a computer screen at three a.m., wired on over-the-counter speed and railing at the government for-fiscal irresponsibility? Girl, she thought, get a life.

(Continues...)



Excerpted from Boomsday by Christopher Buckley Copyright © 2007 by Christopher Taylor Buckley. Excerpted by permission.
All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.
Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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Customer Reviews

Average Rating 4
( 44 )
Rating Distribution

5 Star

(17)

4 Star

(18)

3 Star

(8)

2 Star

(1)

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See All Sort by: Showing 1 – 20 of 44 Customer Reviews
  • Anonymous

    Posted February 26, 2010

    Offbeat political humor

    Up to Christopher Buckley's usual gold standard! The book was entertaining and employed a great cast of characters that were well fleshed out and easily imaginable. And Mr. Buckley was bang on with the finger poking of the boomer generation as well as the nod to the generation following us boomers. It does hit very close to home as to our current political mess of characters and the general loss of fiscal responsibility, lack of adherence to the constitutional rights we all possess, and back alley deals and money grubbing that's the soup du jour of the American political system today. The political satire was a pleasant and entertaining read for boomers and other generations.

    1 out of 1 people found this review helpful.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted December 6, 2012

    Funny and great read!!!!

    I have passed this book to 6 dif people and they have all loved it.

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  • Posted April 30, 2010

    more from this reviewer

    Funny and ominous

    This is not a politically correct story, but is it ever funny. As I read the various storylines, it seemed to me that much of this is coming true. Read up on "voluntary transitioning" in this book if you were born between 1946 and 1964!

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  • Posted March 4, 2010

    Buckley Smokes Previous Books

    An extremely poignant and appropriate plot considering the Baby Boomers are feeding off of the potential wealth of a younger generation. If you're a fan of Christopher Buckley, you'll truly enjoy the read, although the ending came and went in the blink of an eye.

    For more reviews follow my blog at http://gregorywells.livejournal.com/

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  • Posted January 10, 2010

    I Also Recommend:

    Satire at its Best

    A laugh-out-loud joy ride through life and death Washington style. Buckley keeps his story going as he skews the Social Security system, presidential deal-making and, oh my, papal bulls. There's lots more.Enjoy!

    Was this review helpful? Yes  No   Report this review
  • Posted October 4, 2009

    Hysterical

    Wonderful reading. A satirical discussion of some of the issues facing our society in the future: massive government debt, an aging population wanting to consume more government services and the responsibilites we are putting on future generations as a result. I was laughing as I read the book but it has a very serious undertone.

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  • Posted March 7, 2009

    more from this reviewer

    Refreshing in its Uniqueness.

    Boomsday is the type of book that I would recomend to anyone who has even the slightest intrest in American politics, and knows how to get a laugh out of it. It is a wonderfully played out satire on the follies of the US's government system, without bringing in any well known (recent) leaders in government's names.

    However, I do have to be honest. The first part of the book confused me a bit. I was left reading some content which seemed like it was well written, but I was completely unaware of where it was going. However, once you adjust to Buckley's style and his humor, you will be completely engrossed in the book.

    All of the twists and turns will leave you laughing.
    But you must admit, it is America.

    On a side note, do not purchase this book if foul language disturbs or distracts you, for you will find your fair share hidden between the pages of this novel.

    Nevertheless, I truly enjoyed Boomsday and will be picking up another Christopher Buckley book in the very near future.

    Happy reading!

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  • Posted January 6, 2009

    Boomsday: A New Solution (English 9 Till)

    I¿ve recently read Boomsday by Christopher Buckley for an English assignment. Being a student in high school, I¿ve learned quite a few things and experienced a new perspective a certain event of politics. However, in order to fully grasp this book, a prerequisite is needed. A general knowledge of what Social Security is and how it affects the economy of U.S. is rudiment to understand this book with ease. I¿m only a freshman in high school so I had a little confusion with the topic at first. My problem was that I did not understand Social Security well enough to recognize what the main character was fighting for (the main point of the story). On the contrary, the more I read in the book, I finally began to comprehend the meaning and get a general picture of what Social Security was. Basically, if you want more of a easy time with this book (and you are not familiar with what Social Security), you should go look up a few things about Social Security including what it is, how it affects us, and also why it is a problem.<BR/>This book has a new perspective for a solution of the domino-effect of Social Security. The main character offers an utterly radical answer to this problem that ultimately brings controversy in the book and also to the readers. I think that even though the solution is most unlikely and irrational it does, however, bring this topic to a debate¿which is the stated purpose of the book. Hopefully, if more young adults are watching closely to the news or even reading this book, they will be exposed to this future problem and learn more about it. Though many ¿conservatives¿ do not like this book (for how the novel displays them, Boomers, and politicians) it can arouse a deeper afterthought on how our economy will play out in the later years.<BR/>Ignoring the political side of the Boomsday, a hilarious storyline also takes place while intertwining the spunky (and if I may add¿quite contradictory) characters with the deeper plot. Every chapter is filled with details of the crazy life of Cassandra (the main character) and very witty conversations. From Yale to a minefield, I actually ¿LOL¿D¿ (laughed out loud) at some pages. The words that Mr. Buckley uses are quite intriguing and often make me take out a dictionary (yes, the vocabulary is somewhat difficult). <BR/>The cons of this book, however, are that some chapters are quite inappropriate for younger audiences as it suggests ¿sexual themes.¿ There is an ongoing relationship between the main character and a politician that often goes a little too far (although it is probably very common in a real life situation). Also, since I don¿t really get sarcasm, this book was a little hard for me to understand at certain times because most of the story was ¿satire.¿<BR/>Overall, I would rate this book a four star over five because it really was interesting for me to find out about Social Security and how it would affect us in the future. I think I would recommend this to my peers because, seriously, I don¿t think they would want such as catastrophic problem to just explode without knowing much about it. Although not for the serious rightist or conservatives, if you want a funny book but while pertaining to a serious topic, then this is the book for you!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 24, 2008

    Cliche and Hackneyed

    The author overcompensated for shallow characters and a half-baked plot by making the dialogue ridiculously "clever". Not only do people not actually speak to one another in the style that he established, but it made for tedious reading. The premise of the book was reasonably provocative, taking a topic as mundane as Social Security Reform and actually making it "edgy" by putting forward a proposal so controvesial it actually begins to be taken seriously by DC insiders. Unfortunately, the premise had no legs. The author had no direction for the promising premise, and the reader was left with characters that were partly cliched and partly made up as they went along. While I held out hope that the author had a compelling conclusion to match his provocative premise, it turned out that the story simply ran out of gas toward the end. Some might appreciate the author's style, but don't count me as one.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted October 17, 2008

    Fast Fun Read

    This was a funny, satarical journey with an incredibly ingenous idea on 'Voluntary Transitioning'. I really found the characters to be fully drawn out and the plot to be really quite topical considering the economic mess we're currently experiencing. Of course, having lived near DC in the 70's some things NEVER change with regards to the political machine and Buckley certainly gives you the picture.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted March 14, 2008

    Political Satire at its Best

    Christopher Buckley scores big with a political satire that hilariously pits Generation 'Whatever' against Baby Boomers reaching retirement age. Smart, clever dialogue and an eclectic group of unique characters and events make for some unexpected twist and turns for our heroine Cassandra Devine and her cohorts. This is a writer who is adept at using his knowledge of the inner workings of politics and more importantly political spin to keeping you chuckling long after you've finished his books. As I've experienced with many of Buckley's novels, I simply can't put this book down even if it means being late for work--and just how many flat tires can one person get away with before it raises suspicion anyway? Definitely get this book, and definitely read it AFTER work.

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  • Anonymous

    Posted January 4, 2008

    A reviewer

    If you like political satire at all, this is a can't miss book for you! Boomsday is just as wonderful as Buckley's other works, but a bit more modern and achingly funnier!

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  • Anonymous

    Posted November 15, 2007

    A reviewer

    I was a little hesitant about picking this book for our book club, but it was hilarious. I thought that the subject matter would be so far fetched that we wouldn't have a basis for discussion. But I was wrong. The idea that Babyboomers should 'voluntarily terminate' themselves at retirement age to protect the Gen X'ers from deeper debt seems cruel, but the idea (as presented) in the book, is well thought out and made for a great read. This book is great for a laugh, for all of the anagrams of supposed National agencies alone. Highly recommend this book.

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    Posted November 5, 2010

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    Posted March 11, 2010

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    Posted February 7, 2010

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    Posted March 30, 2011

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    Posted June 14, 2012

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    Posted March 25, 2009

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    Posted December 29, 2008

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