I hate to criticize this work because I agree with many of the author's political and philosophical observations, and I have more than a nodding acquaintance with Buddhism. And he seems to know his science. But there were too many lectures and explanations, too many sub-plots going nowhere; plus, I didn't care for Frank, who seemed very immature for his age of 43, and Charlie, the father of spoiled-brat Joe, seemed too sweet and maternal to be a man. Frank himself is hardly believable, rubbing elbows with the homeless crowd and living in a tree-house when he himself was a well-paid scientist working alongside sharp intellectuals and technocrats, and he seemed to be in love with a woman whose name he didn't get when he kissed and groped her in an elevator during a power outage. The premise was very good, and I wanted to enjoy the story, but the author kept wandering off into Neverland with his many lectures and sermons and side-trips. I had to force myself to finish it. I'm giving it 2 stars because he does know how to write, and I loved his digs at the anti-science president who was obviously Bush, but he didn't pay enough attention to his story. This could have been written as a short story or at most a novella, since much of it seemed to be padding to stretch it to novel length. But to put it in the vernacular, the protagonist, Frank, was a soppy, dippy dork, and I didn't enjoy his company. Ooooooop!

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