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Enjoyably snarky and often hilariously witty, the book pales long before the author does. One tires of his relentless, even wearying, cleverness. I say this, and I adore clever wordplay. Perhaps too much. (Just ask e few friends, although they exaggerate, and some will even lie.) (Like a rug.) See???

Queenan built a career being a professional take-down artist, writing scabrous articles for TMZ, Vanity Fair and other vehicles for vaunting America's obsessive celebrity culture. This book is about his belated decision to re-fashion himself as a Good Person, one worthy of the sort of public acclaim of Susan Sarandon and the Dalai Lama. Naturally, he can't do this selfless life without talking about it, or subjecting his children to his pedagogical whims, who have no desire to emulate these people, nor to indulge their father's whims at the expense of their fixation with Wii and other modern conveniences.

He is funny, and wonderfully bitchy, and a creative wordsmith. His conversion is always uncertain; he seems capable of back-sliding at any moment, and one awaits his fall with a near-poisonous relish. But the journey turns out to be tedious, and frankly I gave up on him before he gave up on himself. The snark was delicious, but the snack was not enough. On to better meals.