The Alphabet of Modern Annoyances - Hardcover

``A'' is for ``Arbitrary'' in this abecedarian agglomeration of 26 (A to Z) occasionally amusing attacks on assorted aggravations. From talk radio to the free-form griping so prevalent on the Internet to numerous bestselling jolly jeremiads, America seems increasingly to be dominated by a strangely passive culture of complaint. We're all as mad as hell, but we're not going to do anything about it. Like many of our modern complainers, Steinberg (Complete and Utter Failure, 1994, etc.) is perfectly content to cavil and kvetch, diagnosing all manner of societal ills from ``Advertising'' to ``Zealots.'' But when it comes to remedies, he has painfully little to offer. Satire used to be a healing art, a savage cure for grave indignities. Now, as happens here, it is reduced to empty angst. Satire is also supposed to be funny, but except for a few distant lightning flashes of wit such as a terza rima parody of Dante, Steinberg usually rises no further than the level of affable drolleries. He also beats a stableful of dead horses. From ``Bureaucracy'' to ``Elvis'' to ``McDonalds'' to ``Politicians,'' he rushes in where no one fears to tread, rehashing the same old comic platitudes: McDonalds has ``greasy, lukewarm burgers''; ``the first aspect of families which makes them so annoying is that you are stuck with them.'' Of all the letters of the alphabet, Steinberg seems to treasure ``I'' far above the rest. No matter the subject, he invariably manages to twist it back to himself. So we are treated to extended digressions on his weight, his life as a reporter, his wife and child, his parents. Steinberg does have a few shrewd perceptions, some of them original, and if he'd written in Hawaiian--with its twelve-letter alphabet--they might have been enough to flesh out a satisfying rant. -- Copyright ©1996, Kirkus Associates, LP. All rights reserved.

Paul Fussell alphabetized his peeves in Bad; or, The Dumbing of America (1991), and Steinberg's knock off the old block indicates the country's not getting any smarter. How could it, with confessional talk shows like Oprah, with advertising muscling aside every silent moment, and with antitobacco vigilantes accosting anyone who lights up anywhere. One of the latter annoyed Steinberg as he smoked a stogie in the wide open air, inspiring him to resist by satirizing horrid reformers, self-righteous snobs, and idiots in general practice. Idiots come in all forms and populate each letter of Steinberg's abecedary, but some are so dumb, they warrant extra Steinbergian flaying under I: these are the boneheads of the world who, far from being embarrassed by their moronic behavior, seek to publicize it. (See also, Bobbitt, John Wayne.) But not all annoyances are purposeful infractions; some are existential, like relatives, traffic, and bureaucracy, which Steinberg risibly ridicules with a stock of personal anecdotes and chortling turns of phrase. Ephemeral but funny. Gilbert Taylor