
Every time the name Chuck Palahniuk arrives in conversation, I can’t help smiling from ear to ear, eyes glowing with excitement like a sycophantic teenage groupie ranting about their favorite rock star. Most people recognize the author’s name behind the David Fincher masterpiece, Fight Club. Others, well, they are the work of the mischievous few who recommend to their friends to read such titles as, Choke or Snuff. Soon enough, the satirical black humor that enslaves the characters under consumerism, sex addiction, party crashing or even hell, infects readers like a good case of the rabies. And those few, who yearn to read Palahnhiuk’s every word, they are The Cult. So when his latest book, Damned, was announced, I was drooling with anticipation to be able to see him once again on his book tour. But since Vancouver was at the very end of the tour, I’ve been staring at those damn tickets on my desk for months now. Finally, I can say it was well worth the wait.