Belfie Hell, by Shane Jesse Christmas

“Much like Ballard’s Dr. Vaughan, Shane Jesse Christmass bloodily collides with the whole of modern civilization, mangling it into something freshly grotesque and barely recognizable. Professional killers, jet-setters, and ‘the underage guy James Franco fucked’ all mingle, gobble drugs and drink in the spoils of the globalized economy, side-eyeing hunger riots and noxious coalmines. ‘Email my sunken chest. I have no ancestry, no sense of where I’m from or where I belong.’

Belfie Hell is a travelogue of a world reduced to mere information, our surroundings rendered frightening and alien; a world too cluttered to effectively parse. It’s a novel trapped in an endless cycle of expansion and contraction, destruction and revision, like an auto-immune disorder forcing the host-body to attack itself until it becomes something new and frightening.”

-B.R. Yeager, author of “Amygdalatropolis”