Terry Miles - Rabbits (Also James Tynion IV - The Department of Truth)

The Door is Open. This review ushers in March's theme of Madness, including the only way I'll be participating in it. Our Character, K, is losing his mind, or is he? Terry Miles points our protagonist in pursuit of the origins of a game few can prove even exists. It ties in all your favorite subreddit conspiracies flavored with the now-famous Mandela Effect, that sneaking paranoia that creeps in when we're so sure our collective distorted memories are legitimate recollections (e.g., 'It's Berenstein Bears not Berenstain you cro-magnon oaf.' 'Nelson Mendela was assassinated in the '80s, not dead of natural causes less than 10 years ago you pleb!')

It has the reference-spattered Ready Player One pace with the ominous House of Leaves tone, with none of the typographical or nostalgic headaches. It's a book derived from a podcast derived from getting carried away with finding patterns where there aren't any.

I picked this up because I'm a die-hard fan of James Tynion IV's best-selling graphic novel The Department of Truth, which flips the idea of the Mandela Effect on its head. Collective paranoia can manifest into physical outcomes, and it's the Department's job to shutter these conspiracies before they grow legs, literally. That premise poses more meaning than another book about whether some kid is saving the universe or ruining his prefrontal cortex with the same baked-in numerological babble bullshit that everyone jumps into for the ride.

It (the Department of Truth) has more meaningful subtext against the backdrop of a world, our world, in which currency, religions and nations are on the whole nothing more than what happens when we let these collective fictions embed themselves without question over time.

It forces us to address a dark paradox, because collective delirium is the only reason people like me can poke fun of collective delirium (or which college basketball team is best).

It makes us confront a global truth. That conspiracies are as selectively adaptive for our species' survival as the ability to empathize or create technological wonders.

Don't think about it too much. You'll end up crazy like K, searching for meaning that isn't there.