Mere Anarchy
“I am greatly relieved that the universe is finally explainable. I was beginning to think it was me.â€â€“Woody Allen<br><br>Here, in his first collection since his three hilarious classics <i>Getting Even, Without Feathers, </i>and <i>Side Effects</i>, Woody Allen has managed to write a book that not only answers the most profound questions of human existence but is the perfect size to place under any short table leg to prevent wobbling.<br><br>“I awoke Friday, and because the universe is expanding it took me longer than usual to find my robe,†he explains in a piece on physics called “Strung Out.†In other flights of inspirational sanity we are introduced to a cast of characters only Allen could imagine: Jasper Nutmeat, Flanders Mealworm, and the independent film mogul E. Coli Biggs, just to name a few. Whether he is writing about art, sex, food, or crime (“Pugh has been a policeman as far back as he can remember. His father was a notorious bank robber, and the only way Pugh could get to spend time with him was to apprehend himâ€) he is explosively funny.<br><br>In “This Nib for Hire,†a Hollywood bigwig comes across an author’s book in a little country store and describes it in a way that aptly captures this magnificent volume: “Actually,†the producer says, “I’d never seen a book remaindered in the kindling section before.â€