One of the things I like about the writings of Andersen Prunty is that each book is different. Some are bizarro fantasy, some border on horror and My Fake War is political satire. This novel is satire in the most absurd sense. Hints of Beckett and Vonnegut abound and if Prunty doesn't quite reach those hallowed heights it isn't because he's not trying. My Fake War is deliciously funny but uncomfortably serious at the same time. It is difficult not to compare our real time war with Prunty's fake one especially when our own enemies are as ill-defined as the ones in his novel. But I wonder if the author may be trying a little too hard. At times, the bizarreness feels a little too much like Sartre meets the Three Stooges. Perhaps that is what it is supposed to be. Andersen may not have written the equal to 1984 or The Sirens of Titan but give him time. Right now he is simply tapping on the shoulders of the literature gods and letting them know he's coming. four and a half stars.