apocalypse the trilogy in a million pieces was the first book from me, Michael Ruffles. Historically accurate but never boring, it follows the work of space policeman Dark Chocolate, his partner in work but not life Anyway, and the remarkable rise of the alien pop singer Withnoname. A thesis that explores the juxtaposition of didactic elements, from the mitosis of bureaucratic microbes to the sibling rivalry of identical twin mad scientists, it is also an argument that modern, post-Cubist text can be art, an argument made with at times disruptive rudeness. The most complex character is a space ship, known as Ampersand. Do not trust those retailers who categorise the book as comedy – it is a documentary.

Having long been a figment of my imagination, apocalypse is a real book. It is in the National Library of Australia and has a barcode and everything. Dozens have been sold, which shocked everyone and has the likes of Dan Brown and JK Rowling worried not one iota. Copies have even found their way overseas, earning the capital letter shunning apocalypse the much desired title of international worst-seller. Seriously, the fact that dozens have actually been sold, including one of the rare, never-to-be-repeated special editions with the bonus disc (there are 49 left, get in quick), is apparently pretty good in the scheme of things. Eugene Hyland took the image on the front after hours of fun burning things in the garage.

While apocalypse can and has been purchased from a number of online retailers (see those links that I quickly found on Google or use your fave) and BookPal who did the printing, it can also be ordered by going into Angus and Robertson or Borders bookstores. Or by emailing me, because there are a few spare copies about the house. Those will come with autographs and hand-written envelopes all for the low, low price of postage to wherever you are and the cost of the book.

a devastating critique of western culture – set in space

Jack opened his left eye and saw his blood on the snow, freezing. Dark Chocolate simply rolled his eyes and said nothing. Ampersand was bored. Anyway looked for a coffee. The spy sat unimpressed. Withnoname was on a whirlwind publicity tour. Franklin Gothic was, frankly, not very gothic. But he was hungry. On days like this Thaddeus wished he had never undergone mitosis. Nothing impossible happened today.

what the critics say

“More gratuitous use of the letter X than any luxury xylophone in the galaxy.”

“Science, fiction, romance, comedy, theology and art criticism. In a mug.”

“Making Scientology appear credible since 1997.”

“Oh no, not again!”

the evolution’s over baby

Apocalypse and I

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