Feed

Enter a chilling, twisted future in which one's every thought and movement is directed and regulated by the "feed," a computer chip implanted in the brain. This dystopia is seen through the eyes of teenagers: some who embrace the feed and revel in its unbridled consumerism, and one who rails against society's rampant ignorance and banality. David Aaron Baker's superb use of inflection renders the teen voices realistic, from their vapid musings to profane outbursts that substitute for conversation. The ensemble cast, representing the cacophony of the feed, resembles the worst of today's inane commercials. This brilliant production for older teen listeners enhances Anderson's portrait of a world gone sour, in which even the adults have forgotten how to use language, and everything is dying, including the kids. S.G. Winner of AudioFile Earphones Award, Winner of 2004 ALA/ YALSA Recording, 2004 Audie Award Finalist (c) AudioFile 2003, Portland, Maine

Starred review from July 22, 2002
In this chilling novel, Anderson (Burger Wuss; Thirsty) imagines a society dominated by the feed—a next-generation Internet/television hybrid that is directly hardwired into the brain. Teen narrator Titus never questions his world, in which parents select their babies' attributes in the conceptionarium, corporations dominate the information stream, and kids learn to employ the feed more efficiently in School™. But everything changes when he and his pals travel to the moon for spring break. There Titus meets home-schooled Violet, who thinks for herself, searches out news and asserts that "Everything we've grown up with—the stories on the feed, the games, all of that—it's all streamlining our personalities so we're easier to sell to." Without exposition, Anderson deftly combines elements of today's teen scene, including parties and shopping malls, with imaginative and disturbing fantasy twists. "Chats" flow privately from mind to mind; Titus flies an "upcar"; people go "mal" (short for "malfunctioning") in contraband sites that intoxicate by scrambling the feed; and, after Titus and his friends develop lesions, banner ads and sit-coms dub the lesions the newest hot trend, causing one friend to commission a fake one and another to outdo her by getting cuts all over her body. Excerpts from the feed at the close of each chapter demonstrate the blinding barrage of entertainment and temptations for conspicuous consumption. Titus proves a believably flawed hero, and ultimately the novel's greatest strength lies in his denial of and uncomfortable awakening to the truth. This satire offers a thought-provoking and scathing indictment that may prod readers to examine the more sinister possibilities of corporate- and media-dominated culture. Ages 14-up.