Max Barry is one of those rare writers - able to weave humour and a thick plot into high-paced action, and to do so consistently. Previously, he’d written Syrup, largely unheard of and unnoticed, and Jennifer Government, his “break out” novel that took branding to the extreme. Company, his latest, continues the fine tradition of corporate satire with serious plot. Jones is a new graduate joining Zephyr Holdings - the reason for joining being the drop-dead-gorgeous receptionist who drives an Audi - but he doesn’t really know what Zephyr does, per se. And since there’s a hiring freeze due to budget restrictions, he’s being paid from the copy paper budget. He starts to ask questions that make his co-workers, Freddy the sales assistant who hasn’t been promoted in 5 years, and Holly the fitness freak, a little bit uncomfortable - they’re all thinking it, but no-one asks out loud, until Jones at least. ...

There is a snake in the house. It’s just come in through either the garage or the front door, and it’s just sitting by the wall in the entryway. We have people over and they (my parents and these people) were just planning to go for an evening stroll. Mum starts to get a little flustered, as might be expected. She refuses to live in this house anymore until we get pest control - the cockroaches were bad enough, but this is Sydney, so you expect them a bit. Dad joked that this meant it was a place where things liked to live. I think the snake probably crosses a mental line, though. ...

Mumble is an emperor penguin with a problem: he can’t sing like the other penguins. Indeed, his singing is so bad, he’s practically an outcast. Also, he has this funny thing going on with his feet, and this is causing all sorts of upset to his parents, and the tribal elders. The elders cast him out, saying his destruction of their traditions is what’s responsible for their “god” witholding fish; he finds a group of smaller penguins and with them goes and finds the cause of the lack of fish, the “aliens”, penguins with flabby faces, no beaks or feathers (i.e. humans). The humans see how cute his dancing is, they think the penguins are trying to send them a message, see the error of their ways, and they move on banning fishing in the Antarctic zone, and all’s well that ends well. ...

I’m bored. Nothing’s happening. No, that’s a lie, actually. I’m not. And stuff is happening. I just haven’t got the writing impulse flowing. Reading Max Barry’s Company, which is all kinds of awesome, awesome fun. Good Australian writer with a penchant for corporate satire like you wouldn’t believe ($29.95 at good bookstores). Angry with Apple for running out of MacBook battery stock just as I need to get mine “serviced” (read: replaced). Oh Apple, how I loathe your service department. And your occasional unreliablity. ...

First time ever my optical perscription didn’t change… … WOOOHOOO! (there’s no other way to put it :D)