One of my favorite Sci-Fi books as a teenager was Barjavel’s La Nuit des Temps, translated in English as The Ice People, a reference to the two human beings, millions of years old and yet technologically advanced, found cryogenically preserved deep in the Antarctic ice. It is a simple and somewhat superficial, yet also beautiful, tale of love lost, idealism and global consciousness…..and it flows like a blockbuster, which always gave me the feeling that i would one day see it on the silver screen.

Maggie Gee’s Ice People, the story of a man fighting to keep his family together while the world is falling apart, is a deeper and richer novel than Barjavel’s. And while La Nuit des Temps does have a slight underlying dystopic feel to it, Gee’s novel on the other hand is bleak to the core. It is a slow downward spiral towards a near future without sun, warmth and hope, a future filled with savagery, mistrust between the sexes, chaos and technology gone wrong. But Gee’s prose and wit ensure that the bleakness never feels cheap or forced and that the storyline flows easily and rivetingly to the bitter end.

The Ice People has been compared to Orwell’s 1984 and to Huxley’s Brave New World due to the intensity and realism of its dystopic element and to the strength of Gee’s writing. And Gee, who was the first female Chair of the Royal Society of Literature, is certainly worthy of such comparisons. But her work also brings to mind the style and social concerns of another great contemporary female writer of dystopias: Margaret Atwood. Both have a predilection for speculative fiction based on current societal and technological trends and concerns and both go about it in an unrepentant manner. And both are fantastic writers.

Despite some technological naivety, the Ice People is a sad and beautiful novel whose message will linger in your mind long after the last page has been turned.

Alan Weisman is a poet. The World Without Us is no mere environmental investigation into the destructive power human beings hold over nature and their environment. It is a provocative thought experiment about the fate of our planet if humans completely disappeared tomorrow and it is an ode to the strength and resilience with which nature could fight back, if given that chance.

For as long as we have been on this earth, we Humans have, through our actions, tilted the balance of power in our favour. Influencing the environment around us, altering it to suit our needs is something that we have been doing for millions of years. But it is only recently, with the advent of industrialization and with the ever-increasing growth of technology experienced in the last few decades, that we have begun to fully understand the implications of what it really means to exercise such a control over Nature.

Weisman, using words and prose more reminiscent of classic literature than of journalism, picks his examples carefully and makes his points adroitly, eloquently and beautifully. He never seems to judge, yet leaves us no choice but to feel the urge to do so, and to punish human stupidity for the aberrations that it is capable of. Example after example, we are taken on a journey across the consequences of Man’s never ending thirst for progress at the expense of the world around him.

What would become of our cities? Would they slowly become the kingdom of animals, reserves for new or for endangered species that we were once in the process of exterminating? And what would happen for example to the hundreds of thousands of gallons of water under New York city which every day are barely being held back by some giant machinery that threatens to fail at any moment?

Even if we stopped producing CO2 tomorrow, would it ever disappear from our air, soils and oceans? And if it did, how long would it take and what changes would continue to occur during this period? And what about trapping this CO2 underground, a proposal being made these days to reduce global warming? What would happen to it after thousands of years?

If humans disappeared suddenly, would human evolution start again in a similar fashion as before or have we made too many changes to our ecosystem to sustain such a creation again? Would animals cross back the continents and return to their ancestral habitats (and behaviours), the ones they had occupied before man intervened and started regulating their environment?

What about the myriad of chemicals and materials – PCB, PBD, DDT, EDC, among many others - used in even our smallest and more innocuous creations? Would they all slowly be absorbed back into nature, eaten away by plastic-hungry bacteria, or would they linger forever, a testament to Man’s folly and ingenuity? What fate would await the hundreds of millions of tons of various plastics that are already littering our lands, beaches and oceans, approximately three million of which already form the Great Pacific Garbage Patch, a Texas-size area in the Pacific Ocean that is totally covered with plastic bags, Q-tips, sandwich wraps and other unfortunately too-disposable human inventions?

These are some of the questions that Weisman addresses in this wonderful book, a must read for anyone interested in the health of our planet. As with all of my posts on this subject, I will add my disclaimer that I do not interpret this as a call to renounce technology. The message to save and heal our planet is clear and it must be heard. But humans will not disappear tomorrow and they will not renounce, nor should they, their quest for progress. Awareness and action must be taken to ensure that this progress is fully democratic, equitable, fair, clean and responsible. This, I believe, is the right path, rather than to hope for progress to stop or to wish for a return to the past.

Spin, which won the Hugo Award in 2005, is a novel that often feels more like speculative fiction than science fiction. Like much of the work of Kim Stanley Robinson and of Margaret Atwood, Spin takes place in a hypothetical present, and uses current themes and concepts and a solid narrative with strongly developed characters as a backbone for more fictional and apocalyptic speculations.

These speculations revolve around the unexplained appearance of a membrane around the Earth, apparently placed by some extra terrestrial intelligence whose motives will only be revealed at the end of the book. Outside of the membrane, the universe expands at a rapidly accelerating rate, implying that without the membrane, the Earth will quickly fry under the rays of our exploding sun. However, the origin of the membrane remains unclear to the people of the Earth who are condemned to live without understanding why, how, and especially how long. How long until the membrane disappears, signifying the end of the human race?

It is within this existential end-of-the-world context that Wilson develops the story of three friends whose lives will evolve differently under the constant presence and threat of the membrane. Each will use the inescapable uncertainty and ambiguity that now permeates life on earth to make different decisions and to interact with the world according to their own motivations. Yet, their path will cross often, and the truth behind the appearance of the membrane will bring them together in their search for answers.

Despite the fact that Wilson brings additional themes to his story such as conscious self-replicating nanomachines, humanity’s depletion of Earth’s natural resources, the terraforming and colonization of Mars (the depiction of which is in my mind one of Spin’s few weak points), and the connection of various parts of the universe through wormhole-like gates, it is the tale of the three friends confronting the realities of a doomed world that dominates Spin. It is not often that a Science Fiction writer tries and succeeds in bringing such depth to his or her characters. Wilson has done just that with Spin and has done it on a canvas of interesting apocalyptic conjectures and ideas that are reminiscent of Greg Bear’s The Forge of God.

With The Omnivore’s Dilemma, Michael Pollan has become the evangelist for the ‘beyond organic’ movement. Although not preachy or pedagogic, this book is now a bible for people seeking to improve their health through the improvement of the health of our soils, animals, plants and of the planet as a whole. The ‘Beyond Organic’ movement not only questions industrial food productions systems, it also takes a hard look at what has become of the organic movement. And it is clear after reading Pollan’s brilliant, incredibly well-researched and so eloquently written book, that the essence of what made organic organic in the 70s has pretty much fully disappeared in today’s society. Instead, organic has become a marketing device, a method ignorant of its own carbon footprint that has succeeded (at least in the US) in applying many traditional industrial production techniques to a variety of new foods, under a new name, ideology and, of course, under a new price range. While still a better alternative than its traditional industrial counterpart (and Pollan has enough stories to tell about the rise and deceit of the industrial food production system to make one never want to eat industrial food again), organic today has little left of the ideals that once brought farmers and consumers together in an effort to return to a healthier and simpler way of obtaining and eating food.

However, this does not necessarily imply that a dismissal of all things organic is in order. There continues to be clear benefits to eating organic and to reject most so-called foods that are issued from the big industrial food machine: anything that comes in a shape or form that clearly can not be found in nature as well as anything that comes in a container or package as this is an indication of a highly processed food. Eating organic ensures with a relatively high degree of certainty that no chemical fertilizer and pesticides were used and that no hormones were injected into the meat you buy. Finally, it means probably more vitamins and minerals than the average non-organic food. But even more importantly than all of this, buying organic also means a commitment to a lifestyle and to a way of approaching the world that is badly needed today. And if organic is not the final destination, at least it is a step in the right direction.

This destination is the beyond organic movement with its slow food, permacultures, sustainable agriculture, farmers’s markets, and community supported agriculture. It is a return to the eating of whole foods and to a renewed kinship with our planet. Pollan demonstrates clearly the link that exists between the various elements of a food chain, from the soils from which we grow our food to the insects that play a role in the growth (or not) of a plant which will be eaten by an animal which we will in turn eat (for those who still believe in the eating of animals). Humans are active at every level of this food chain, and whatever decisions we decide to make can have a negative or positive impact on this chain, and thus, on our own health. It is a symbiotic loop that is reminiscent of James Lovelock’s Gaia theory, showing once again that human beings can not take the liberty of assuming that they are independent of the world they inhabit. Everything we do, the many ways we impact our planet and our ecological systems, the decisions we make regarding the plants and animals that surround us, all impact us and our health (mental and physical) directly.

While Pollan has become a bit of an activist, speaking against Monsanto and genetically modified foods, The Omnivore’s Dilemma set out initially to simply show a history of food and of our relationship to it. By placing the rise of industrial production firmly into the greater context of our evolution and of our historical relationship to food, Pollan is able to show how we have become deceived and brainwashed by the promises and cheap and instantaneous rewards of industrial food, a food that unfortunately has little left in common with the food that we human beings evolved to eat and assimilate.

As I have posted several times before, I believe in the benefits of technology in the long run. I believe that we will, at some point in the future, master enough knowledge to create artificial foods that taste good, that are beneficial to us and that are manufactured in a way which is at peace with the environment. However, we have not reached that stage. We are still living in a world in which corporations are pushing sugar and unhealthy processed foods down our throats, making false claims about the health benefits of their products, bribing government officials to get clearance for substances that are clearly toxic, abusing our environment in dangerous ways, using unimaginable cruelty towards the animals that are part of our food chain, and all in the name of profit. While the long term future of food lies clearly with the scientists and the nutritionists (hopefully without the pressure of corporations), the immediate and short term future on the other hand must imply a return to a more natural way of eating, one which is at peace with the planet and in harmony with the way evolution transformed us over millions of years.

Once in a while, one stumbles upon a work of such quality that one cannot help but to be baffled at how such a work could escape one’s notice for so long. Diaspora, written in 1997 by Greg Egan, is one of the most powerful, mind bending and far reaching book I have ever read.

As I have posted several times before, one of the drawbacks of many Sci-Fi representations and stories brought to the silver screen, is the difficulty in reaching the right balance between depicting a credible future, sometimes a distant future, while at the same time preserving some sense of ‘normality’ as well as traditional frames of references in order to not alienate the viewer. Unfortunately, this balance is rarely reached and most of Hollywood’s visualizations tend to be very limited and writers or directors seem content to show us the same old humans with the same old problems, values and physical characteristics, regardless of when in the future the story might be occurring. Just place these archaic visions of the past in front of a couple of futuristic looking buildings, add some fancy cars with doors that slide vertically and complete the package with the occasional gismo to obtain your average run-of-the-mill Sci-Fi flick.

While Sci-Fi literature offers many possibilities for more credible, fleshed out and geeky visions of the future, there has still been an over-reliance on ‘traditional’ humans as lead or even as only characters. This seems to have changed in the past few years, and the implications of Transhumanisn are increasingly being used as material for many Sci-Fi books. In Diaspora, Greg Egan describes in great detail how the ‘human race’ might split and evolve towards a post human future. While the process of becoming more than human will most likely be very gradual, with humans combining with machines and vice versa (a process that has already started with the adoption of pacemakers, Cochlear implants, prosthetic limbs, or even the mobile phone which has become a natural extension of ourselves), Egan portrays a future a few hundred years hence dominated by three main forms of beings: the Fleshers, ‘traditional’ humans with or without genetic modifications, the Gleisner Robots, robotic shells inhabited by human minds, and the Polis Citizens, the uploaded minds of humans ‘living’ in computer and simulated worlds. In addition, on rare occasions, the polis creates a new mind, a purely artificially conceived one, albeit very human in many ways.

Over a period of several thousand years, Egan traces the quest of some of these Polis Citizens as they attempt to prevent and then escape the destruction of our universe (an early consequence of this destruction is the end of the Fleshers, and thus, the end of humanity as we know it today). This quest will lead these highly advanced non-physical entities, our descendants, to some of the most far-reaching destinations the mind could possibly conceive.

Egan doesn’t shy away from grand mathematical and physical speculation, and for the average reader, his lengthy descriptions of the universe’s most innate workings will seem a bit tedious at times. But sticking through these sections is quite worth it as one is rewarded by an avalanche of fantastic and awe-inspiring concepts. There is plenty to ponder in Diaspora and anyone interested in what existence might be like as an uploaded mind, in a possible direction for the future of the human race, in parallel universes and multi-dimensions, in the potential for alien life, or simply in the infinite mystery and beauty of the cosmos, then this book is an absolute must-read.

I am still somewhat perplexed by Ken MacLeod’s decision to conspicuously display ‘A Space Opera’ on the cover of his book, directly below the title. Is he trying to inform us from the very start that because it is a space opera, we shouldn’t take some of its content too seriously? Is this a way to excuse or justify a certain lightness and comic approach to this story about the future of the human race 400 years from now, after a singularity-type explosion of technological advancement has led to war on earth and to the splitting of the remaining humans in various gangs that compete with one another in space? If yes, is this disclaimer powerful enough to lessen one’s disappointment when reading that the future will be led by a gang of swearing Capitalist Scots or by some East-Asian Communist community of terraformers? Is this fun for 300 pages? I certainly didn’t think so and was bored after 50. The ideas brought forth in Newton’s Wake do not feel challenging and thought provoking enough or have been better depicted in other novels. They seem to rely on a very 20th century understanding of human nature, communication and social interactions. In addition, the lead characters are all quite uninspiring and, in fact, not really likeable, as exemplified by one of the stories which revolves around two musicians who are, in my opinion, two of the most boring characters I have read in a book recently.
In conclusion, my first exposure to the work of a man who is supposedly a new force in Sci-Fi and transhumanist literature has not been a very enjoyable one and it might be a while before I attempt to read another one of his books.

From a futurist perspective, the possibility that everything in the universe is connected by a quantum vacuum (or Akashic field, or any other name that might help define what remains an elusive theory), from the smallest particles to the largest cosmic phenomenon, is a fascinating idea to contemplate.
Many transhumanists, such as Raymond Kurzweil and Hans Moravec, believe in the concept of a future global consciousness, enabled through the merging of the human brain with technology, particularly artificial intelligence. Already today, many are pointing at the rise of social applications, the increasing use of mobile technology and at the speed at which the Internet is evolving, to draw comparisons with various aspects of the human brain. Could the Internet become conscious? It is indeed a possibility that is not to be discounted.
Likewise, it is very likely that, sooner than most people realize, human beings, through mind upload and the development of AI, will be able to achieve a pooled consciousness, which one can only hope will lead to a betterment of many ills that plague our world today.
Yet, this connectivity exists already today, as it has for as long as the universe has existed. Moreover, if we believe the System Theorist and Integral Theorist Ervin Laszlo, our universe, having benefited from the infinite learning of this connectivity and coherence, is itself only an enhancement of previous universes, thereby explaining the ultimate perfection that enables every aspect of our cosmic life to come together and function.
Laszlo further speculates that every atom in our body is connected to every atom in the universe, including naturally to those of our fellow biological entities. To support these claims of connectivity between human beings and the cosmos, Laszlo provides a plethora of examples and scientific tests that have been performed over the past 100 years. Regrettably, the troubling and fascinating results from these tests have been mostly ignored by the scientific community (and by the medical community as well, as explained by, for example, Deepak Chopra in his books on Quantum Healing) and by the public as a whole, who prefers instead to discount them and to classify them as alternative and mystical belief.

This loss of ‘focus’ keeps us as a species from reaching towards global consciousness and higher states of being, a realm which is today the exclusivity of a very few, usually those practicing meditation or those gifted with certain abilities such as healing, clairvoyance or even deep compassion and empathy. While technology can be the promise for a better future, there is no need to wait for the Singularity and beyond for the merging of our minds with that of machines to reach global consciousness. We can renew a process that was lost a long time ago by reaching out to the cosmos and by embracing the possibilities of the quantum vacuum that exists all around us and within us. Because we are the cosmos.

If, like me, you enjoyed Rapture, A raucous tour of cloning, Transhumanism and the new era of immortality, you will undoubtedly be captivated by Radical Evolution. Whereas Brian Alexander focused mainly on the history of genetics and Transhumanism, Joel Garreau propels us full speed ahead towards the future, not only by discussing some of the various ‘enhancements’ that await human beings in the short to medium term, but also by exploring what the term ‘human nature’ really means through the examination of three possible scenarios for the future of the human race….

The Heaven scenario is exemplified by such illustrious people as Raymond Kurzweil, Eric Drexler, Nick Bostrom, Marvin Minsky, Hans Moravec, Vernor Vinge, and Gregory Stock (who actually stands slightly outside of this group based on his stronger beliefs in the benefits and practicality of germline genetic engineering over what he describes as cyber exuberance) and is based on the belief that the Singularity is near, the point at which technological advancement will become so rapid that the possibilities will become endless…

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Often considered one of the best Sci-Fi novels ever written, and winner of the first Hugo award in 1953, The Demolished Man tells the story of Ben Reich, a rich and corrupt businessman in 24th century America, who murdered one of his rivals (the first murder in 70 years) and is being investigated by a very intelligent and telepathic detective. Yawn.

I clearly was not engrossed by this detective story which, aside for the concept of a telepathic society, offers few surprises and interesting ideas. Perhaps it did in the 50’s when it came out but I find it today to be quite dated and to propose a vision of the 24th century that I think is way off the mark and slightly irritating in its simplicity and lack of imagination.

Recently, at work, I mentioned that I felt that we humans are living at the most exciting time of our history in terms of changes, opportunities and dangers. The reply was that surely there have been many other periods before when humanity faced major opportunities and challenges and managed to continue moving up the ladder of moral and technological progress.

I have since read Brian Alexander’s Rapture, and I am now convinced that, indeed, Humanity has never been confronted with such possibilities, and in the process, with such risks and perils. We, the people of this Earth, are about to redefine the meaning of human nature (if such a meaning ever truly existed in the first place). We are about to take control of our own evolution.

Visions of Utopia have been around at least since the days of Plato’s Republic, gaining momentum in 1516 and 1627 with the publications of Thomas More’s Utopia and Francis Bacon’s The New Atlantis, and finding a new energy throughout the end of the 19th century and the early stages of the 20th, at a time when the promises of the industrial revolution filled people’s heads with dreams and a hunger for the possibilities of the future.

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How to begin an explanation of Illium and of Olympos, two novels published in 2003 and 2005 by Dan Simmons, the remarkable author of the Hyperion series?
Where to begin is even more problematic. Four days after finishing Olympos, i am still trying to make full sense of what i just read, and to determine if it is even worth attempting a summary. Or perhaps the only kind of summary worth attempting is a simple list of concepts and ideas that permeate the two books:

Quantum energy and teleportation. Multiple universes. Time travel. Post humans. Old style humans. Nanotechnology. Brane holes. Avatars. Logosphere. Noosphere. Marcel Proust. Shakespeare. The Tempest. Caliban. Setebos. Greek Gods. Achilles. Moravecs from Jupiter. Olympus Mons. Mars. Ariel. Odysseus. Burning Man. Technological singularity. Nuclear apocalypse. Prospero. Sycorax. ARNists. Rubicon virus. Global Caliphate. Wandering Jew. Nabokov. Pantheistic solipsism….

But whereas Illium successfully and wonderfully sets up this amazing and insane concoction of ideas, themes and concepts and made the reader hungry for more, Olympos fails to deliver and to fulfill our expectations. Too many unanswered questions, and too much delivered too early or over too many pages. Still, if you are interested in stretching your imagination and indulging in a little mind bending space opera, this is it.

Isaac Asimov has published over 400 books in his lifetime. This is, apparently, more than anyone else has ever published, in any literary genre. My first reaction when I learned this, is that when someone churns out books so quickly, they are bound to come up at some point (or regularly) with less than average material. Stephen King, for example, is one of these authors whose great works are starting to become invisible in the middle of an ever-growing pile of nonsense.

The Gods Themselves is not one of Asimov’s bests (Asimov declared, however, that this was his favorite novel). It feels to me as if he came up with a great central idea but had to force himself to build a story around it.

This story revolves around the idea of parallel universes and the exchange of energy between these two universes.

‘Aliens’ in a parallel universe find a way to contact earth and to get the people of earth to build a Proton Pump. This pump allows each universe to get a free source of unlimited energy, something that, for different reasons, both sides need badly. But, in each universe, someone realizes that this will come at a cost and tries to stop the pump.

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You love him or you hate him. The likelihood that someone could have feelings towards Michel Houellebecq that lie somewhere between these two extremes seems very low. And this inner range would probably be characterized more by uncertainty and puzzlement than by direct variations in the levels of love or hate.

His detractors and critics condemn his constant and relentless misanthropy, his self-indulgent style, his inability to create likeable, new and interesting characters that would demark themselves from the suffocating imprint of their creator, his bigotry, his penchant for pornographic descriptions…the list goes on. His admirers claim that French literature hasn’t had a voice this fresh, this honest and this ingenious since Sartre or Camus.

Houellebecq hits you hard, and in many different places. He shocks us, amuses us, disgusts us, astounds us, sometimes all in one sentence. He drills and wounds and suddenly applies a balm to the wound, only to re-open it shortly after. His knowledge and understanding of modern society and pop culture can only leave most writers his age, and younger, contemplative. His appreciation and masterly control of technological issues is bound to impress most readers, as is his sharp and witty prose.

But his conclusions and observations of the world are visceral, the reflections of a troubled man who cannot cope with the passing of time and the deterioration of modern society. Houellebecq goes after who we are and his style forces us to confront our own understanding of the world. If that understanding is a different one than that of Houellebecq, we are bound to find his perverse and pitiful. He shocks and puts the reader into an extreme situation and forces a reaction and a realization that her views are either similar or not at all. But the beauty of Houellebecq’s work lies in its ability to touch us all, to awaken emotions, positive and negative, and to take a critical look at what it means to be human.

The Possibility of an Island lacks the snap and energy of the Particules Elementaires, and seems less fresh and relevant. Instead, Houellebecq takes us further into his own soul, further into the depths of his distaste towards humanity and modern culture. Nothing escapes his judgment and critic. There is simply no room for happiness in a Darwinian world where sexuality and the need to pass on genes dominate. Humanity is cruel, as is nature. Humans are no different than animals, and probably worse. Yet, Houellebecq is not all hatred and disgust. The Possibility of an Island reveals an occasional glimpse of sadness, an underlying nostalgia for what could have been, had we not been the humans we are. It is this softness burried deep inside Houellebecq, his longing and his quest for an invisible love, this balm he applies to our wounds, which often entices the reader to go further with him on his journey of doom.

As in Buddhism, Houellebecq’s vision of the world begins with the belief that life is suffering. If in the Particules Elementaires we were given a glimpse of hope through the creation of a new race of human beings, this hope is shattered in The Possibility of an Island. The superior race, even though at an intermediate stage of development, has lost all semblances of emotions. They evolve in a state akin to a void, empty of desire, attachment, sorrow and happiness. Is this the price humanity must pay? Is this the way out of the human condition? Most readers would find this an absurd solution and Houellebecq knows it, demonstrating that, sadly, for the author, the possibility of an island is more remote than ever.

For a Science Fiction writer, it sometimes feels that Philip K. Dick didn’t seem that concerned with the future. A reader of A Scanner Darkly (or a viewer of the recent Linklater film adaptation) might easily question how the term Science Fiction was even applied to this work in the first place.

Like Valis, a book which I found much more disturbing, A Scanner Darkly deals with the present (or close enough to the present), and it explores, in a rigorous and carefully laid-out fashion, one of Dick’s favourite themes, the questioning of reality. Set in Orange County, California, an undercover narcotic agent gradually and painfully looses his grasp on reality, as he becomes the victim of the drug he must use regularly to keep his cover. The change is very progressive and Dick carefully details this path to madness.

Yet, A Scanner lacks the excessiveness of Valis, the accessibility and intriguing speculation of The Man in the High Castle, the pace and futurist appeal of The Minority Report or the even the moodiness and intellectualism of Do Androids dream of Electric Sheep?. A Scanner is a tale about the now, about not so interesting individuals who have few interests and few connections to the world. But its story still feels very real, perhaps too real for a piece that questions reality. I am sure this is also its appeal for a lot of readers who will find its details and believability more interesting and sincere than Dick’s more speculative work.

In 2005, i had the pleasure of attending a lecture by Michio Kaku for the release of his new book Parallel Worlds. Kaku is a leading theoretical physicist and is often credited as being one of the founders of string theory. He also happens to be a fascinating speaker who seems equally at ease in front of an audience or the press as he is in front of his equations.

For a few decades, physicists have been searching for the theory of everything, the theory that would unite all past works and findings regarding gravity, relativity, nuclear physics, and quantum physics. This theory, it is hoped, would explain our universe, from its smallest particles to its largest phenomenon such as its ever-increasing expansion. String theory and its possible 11 dimensions brought us closer, as did its newer incarnation, M-theory. Now, Kaku argues, the idea that our universe is only one out of an infinity could possibly provide the missing answers to help complete the search for this theory of everything. Kaku writes effectively, clearly and convincingly, revisiting succinctly the various theories of the past, and mixing this information with pertinent examples from science fiction works (showing once again that Science Fiction is nothing other than foretelling the future).
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