There's something weirdly cozy about Mills' workaday absurdism. I probably read the entire book wearing an oblivious and stupid grin. I loved every minute I had with these amiably suffering impotents, these cogs in a long-broken machine. There is a guileful system or anti-system at work here, bent on an agenda of cognitive amputation, of excising free will or at least utterly undermining the reason of our heroes. But always they soldier on, determined with good humor to find the position of least discomfort beneath the threatening, evil clouds of entropy.