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OFF THE WALL

OH, GOD! by Avery Corman (Bantam): Short, slick, funny death-of-god satire, a few years too late. There are plenty of good lines, as Corman is hired by ... God? to be his press agent? Our favorite line: “Avocados . . .on that I made the pit too big.”

June 1, 1973

The CREEM Archive presents the magazine as originally created. Digital text has been scanned from its original print format and may contain formatting quirks and inconsistencies.

OFF THE WALL

OH, GOD! by Avery Corman (Bantam): Short, slick, funny death-of-god satire, a few years too late. There are plenty of good lines, as Corman is hired by ... God? to be his press agent? Our favorite line: “Avocados . . .on that I made the pit too big.” This is another bizarro; the writing is good but it doesn’t go anywhere, unfortunately.

TO THE SOUND OF FREEDOM by Robin Scott Wilson and Richard W. Shyrock (Ace): Of all the rip-off rock novels, this is the worst, mostly because it has about as much to do with the rock festival so blatantly advertised on its cover as Naked Lunch has to do with Horn & Hardhart.

ANGELA DAVIS: An Objective Assessment, by Marc Olden (Lancer): This is a weird one. Olden does try to be objective, but he can’t really bring himself to do it. Angela isn’t particularly well written but lots of facts you probably didn’t/don’t know are there. Even though the writing isn’t strong, it’s worth 95 cents, for sure.

13: THE FLIGHT THAT FAILED by Henry S.F. Cooper, Jr. (Dial): If you find yourself as frequently bored by the Apollo program as we do, you’ll be amazed to find that Cooper, a New Yorker reporter, has put together one of the most exciting non-fiction thrillers in recent memory. You won’t realize til you finish it that you have also learned more about purposes and programs of the moon shot series than from any other source. In a funny way, this might' be the best current suspense book.

WARLOCKS AND WARRIORS Edited by Douglas Hill (Mayflower Books): It all boils down to aesthetics. Like, the other night. Me and a buddy are discussing aesthetics. He tells me how his younger borther used to catch garter snakes, stick them in a pop bottle full of gasoline, then cover the top and shake the bottle. You could get neat traces off the way the snakes wiggled. Of course, the guy’s kid brother stopped doing this when he realized that snakes had feelings (or was it that snakes could be reincarnated?). Anyway, lately a lot of people that never cared about snakes have suddenly become interested in their aesthetic possibilities since learning that snakes have feelings (or are really people reincarnated). What does all this mean? It means if you wriggled when you saw Alice Cooper get hung, you’ll probably wriggle when you read this book.