The Futurist

AUTOPSY REPORT:
In the case of: "The Futurist"
Date accessioned: 15 Sept 2010
Date completed: 23 Sept 2010

Clinical Summary: Specimen was discovered on bookstore shelf. A cursory twenty-page assessment was not suspicious for significant pathologic change. No witnesses were present. No suicide note has been identified.

Gross Examination:

On dissection, the following contents were discovered inside this book:

characters I hate (5)
excessive cliché (too much to quantify)
unimaginative plot devices (at least 3)
annoying character contrivances (1 major, several minor)
artless symbolism (1 major instance, multiple minor)

Diagnosis: Shit Sandwich.

Etiology: Uncertain; cannot rule out bored or incompetent author.

Motive: Uncertain; possibly show more terrorism/torture, or psychosis.

Lessons Learned: Twenty pages is not always sufficient to predict whether a book will be any good.

Legal Status: Unresolved; author still at large.

Predictions: critical acclaim, a sequel.

REVIEW OF FACTS:
The Futurist (Advance Reading copy) caught my eye in the bookstore, and somehow held my interest through the first twenty pages, so I bought it.

I should have known better. For one thing, I think the job title “futurist” is complete bullshit. The only two people I’m aware of who have had the gall to bestow this ridiculous title on themselves are Ray Kurzweil , who I consider a megalomaniacal sociopath, and Alvin Toffler , who I have a difficult time taking seriously. If I had to generalize, I’d say “futurists” are hucksters who prey on peoples’ insecurities- people who are looking for somebody else to tell them where the next big threat or opportunity will arise. There is big lecture circuit money to be made in this particular flavor of snake oil sales. As author James Othmer illustrates, the futurist is mostly in the business of either telling people what they want to hear, or selling them somebody else’s agenda. There is probably no such thing as an unbiased futurist. Actually, this book seems to agree with me on that point ...but I still hate it.

This book introduces you to Yates. His first name is never revealed, which I find annoying. He is an acclaimed and very comfortable futurist. After establishing himself in the business at least a decade ago, he is just now starting to become disillusioned, which suggests he is exceptionally dimwitted, despite Othmer’s attempt to build him up as brilliant. What Yates really is, is a spoiled, poor-little-rich boy, sipping fine wine in private jets, and “tortured” by the hypocrisy and vacuousness of his life. If you managed to forget why you hated every character on Beverly Hills: 90210, this book will set you right.

When Yates’ one-dimensional, pure-evil, bitch-from-hell girlfriend dumps him (she’s been cheating on him, of course), something in his brain snaps. He decides to scrap the speech he prepared for his next gig, and instead tells the audience what he really thinks!!! Sound familiar? It should. Tom Cruise did this as Jerry Maguire, and Dudley Moore’s character did it in Crazy People. Unlike in those movies, however, Yates’ moment of honesty initially costs him his job, but eventually, as people see the truth in his words, it brings him greater success!! Oh, wait..

So the plot is a predictable cliché. Well, that doesn’t have to kill the book for you. Maybe there are some good characters along the way, like Yates’ platonic friend Marjorie. She's a prostitute with a heart of gold! Surely that’s never been done before. How about Yates’ old college roommate, Campbell? (again with no first names) Here’s a fresh new character: the software billionaire friend whose privileged lifestyle gives our protagonist a more grounded perspective on life. (Blech) He would no doubt be played by Pierce Brosnan in the movie version (God forbid) of this book. How about Amanda Glowers, Yates’ one-dimensional, pure-evil, bitch-from-hell female professional rival? (this is a somewhat misogynistic book) The only character you might not see coming is Magga: Campbell’s 6’8” Greenlandic nympho girlfriend, who drives around in an armored personnel transport, and whose father is at the head of Greenland’s mafia. I guess she was invented to spice things up by adding an element of surreal improbability. FAIL. Instead she makes this whole contraption feel even more contrived and unconvincing. I wonder if Othmer’s first draft was too boring, and the editors made him conjure her up. She really contributes nothing to the story.

So what happens in this book? A lot of jet setting. Lots of enjoyment of luxury (Campbell’s mansion in Greenland). Lots of stomping about and feeling oh-so desperate!(more champagne, please), oh-so lonely! and oh-so empty! (pass the Cuban cigars) Yates’ distant father, a completely undeveloped character to that point, passes, creating the opportunity for a “heartbreaking” scene of grief. Yates is so vulnerable! -so human! (yawn) He is blackmailed into doing some more gigs as a futurist, promoting various projects he doesn't really believe in. (“I keep trying to leave, and they keep pulling me back in!!”) The space hotel Yates’ once praised as mankind’s first commercial gateway to the stars has a catastrophic accident and burns up on re-entry. It’s almost, you know, like a symbol for something.

Othmer wraps this mess up with a big finale, in which Yates (still under blackmail) goes to a Potemkin commerce convention in Iraq to declare the country open for foreign investment. There is an attempt on his life, which he narrowly escapes, and he then declares himself finished with futurism forever. Hooray! show less

Plot....hey, who needs it? Othmer bought his off the shelf, borrowing a little from every conspiracy you've ever heard, from Guy Fawkes to The Manchurian Candidate.

All Othmer needed was a tree he could decorate with his cruel, cynical observations and spiky one-liners. These elements of the book--let's not mince words here--are brilliant.

The Futurist is dense with word-play and preposterous invention. Descriptions are vivid, and the language tight. You will not find one single ounce of fat on this book.

It doesn't surprise me that Othmer was once a copywriter. In a trade where words cost money, every word has to earn its keep. The Futurist showcases Othmer's skill as a deft ingniter of ideas. Enjoy the ride with him.

To use the old cliché, this book had me laughing out loud. Yates, the cynical protagonist in this fast moving book, took me on a hilarious ride around the world selling bullshit to countries that could have just used the bull and not the shit. I’m not a cynic, though I ‘m cynical (yeah, right) so I appreciated the humor in this book.

I swear that I’ve met most of the characters in The Futurist, except for Magga, and frankly she scared me. I loved Jeremy, the AWOL from the Peace Corps boy and the whole dialogue between him and Yates. Brilliantly funny.

Being an ‘Expat’ for over 20 years I’ve seen and heard the hate generated towards America and it’s true that while America asks, why do they hate us?; The world asks, why do show more they hate us? I’ve lost count how many times I’ve claimed to be Canadian and a hardcore Bryan Adams fan. Taxi drivers have spit at me, immigration counter bureaucrats have told me I don’t belong here, and strangers will talk to me like I can get on the phone, call Bush, and get him to get his ass in gear. Fat chance of that ever happening (I do have a fantasy about breaking into a mosque, getting on the loud speakers, and belting out the song “There she was just a-walkin down the street, singin’, do-wah diddy-diddy down diddy-do”)… but I digress…

Though I laughed throughout the read, there was an undercurrent of truth to the whole premise of The Futurist that spiked and jabbed through the satire and made me squirm uncomfortably. I do believe that the global marketing going on today is a dirty business. War and natural disasters are businesses and they also need commercial time… right between the McDonald’s Happy Land spot and the ad for incontinence panties (I'm being cynical... ok?)

Something also tells me that this line from the book hits close to the truth and maybe gave spark to what turned out to be The Futurist.

“Honey”, Amanda Glowers says, “I was the CEO of the second biggest advertising agency in the world. Advertising. I had the U.S. Army for a client. Raytheon. Global pharma companies. You act like I spent the last fifty years in a fucking convent.”

I'm not sure if Mr Othmer traveled to the same places as Yates, but he did an excellent job with the descriptions. The only places that Yates traveled to that I haven’t visited are Pittsburgh, Greenland, and a Bas'ar type country. Milan and Jo'burg were spot on. Adding the bit about the bats at dusk in Fiji was a nice touch. But the airport in Kuwait is actually surprisingly dingy and third worldish though when flying in and peering out the windows it does look like you're flying into an American base, which I guess it really is.

I really enjoyed The Futurist. Excellent book. Thanks Mr James P. Othmer. Looking forward to more from you. show less

This novel is all about a globetrotting pundit named Yates, who journeys from conference to conference dispensing whatever prognostications and shibboleths his corporate sponsors require to stimulate their local economies and, at every stop, elevating mini-bar-raiding to a grotesque art form. Whether this book connects with you will probably depend on your interest in the author's cynical take on the future direction of our global economy and your tolerance for self-absorbed protagonists who have lost their way in blind pursuit of professional success. Think "Bright Light Big City" meets "Jerry McGuire," with a William Gibsonian, cyberpunk veneer.

Much of it worked for me, though I had some difficulty buying into the conspiratorial show more framework of the story, especially the plausibility of the Johnsons' recruitment of Yates to serve their amorphous geopolitical agenda. While adding an element of danger and intrigue to the story, it compromised the believability factor.

James Othmer is a talented writer, with a finger on the global pulse and flair for satirical humor. I look forward to his future offerings.

-Kevin Joseph, author of "The Champion Maker" show less

Futuristen är en mycket ovanlig bok, den är skriven med ironi och humor men trots det bjuder den på eftertanke och många kloka ord. En inteligent bok!

At first glance, this was a book that should have been right up my alley. A guy gets sick of the BS he gets paid to feed corporate gatherings, and turns on them. As a result, he seems to be more popular than ever. He's a geek, always encouraging companies to take the next step forward in propelling the bleeding edge.
But frankly, the guy just wasn't likeable. He comes off as a smartass who spouts off one-liners and bull like it was nothing, but has no redeeming qualities that make you want to root for him. While much of the book was entertaining enough to keep me reading it, I wasn't satisfied with the plot (and the inevitably predictable "twist" revelation of the mysterious Nostradamus' identity) enough to really recommend it. It's show more right at 2.5 stars. show less

This book was chosen for a book club and it’s not something I would have picked out. At first glance, I didn’t think I’d like it. After reading it I know I was right. Hated it! The main character was not likable. He comes off as a cynical smartass that has no redeeming qualities that make you want to root for him. Some of the book was entertaining enough to keep me reading it. I liked the interesting and bizarre people he met up with. The plot lost it’s humor and became too much – wouldn’t really recommend it.