Marc Maron was a parent-scarred, angst-filled, drug-dabbling, love-starved comedian who dreamed of a simple life: a wife, a home, a sitcom to call his own. But instead he woke up one day to find himself fired from his radio job, surrounded by feral cats, and emotionally and financially annihilated by a divorce from a woman he thought he loved. He tried to heal his broken heart through whatever means he could find - minor-league hoarding, Viagra addiction, accidental racial profiling, cat fancying, flying airplanes with his mind - but nothing seemed to work. It was only when he was stripped down to nothing that he found his way back.
"A sad, funny man"
The Jerusalem Syndrome is a genuine psychological phenomenon that often strikes visitors to the Holy Land - the delusion that they are suddenly direct vessels for the voice of God. Marc Maron seems to have a distinctly American version of the Jerusalem Syndrome, which has led him on a lifelong quest for religious significance and revelation in the most unlikely of places.
"Funny, but very intense!"
Vulnerable to the high-relief of heroin addiction, Bland's characters - Charlie Hyatt and Carrie Finch - are unapologetic protagonists whose epiphanies are as blinding as their weaknesses. Finch - 21, beautiful, and dangerous - drowns out the voices in her head and the consequences of a misled life with electric guitars, booze, and petulant misbehavior. Her single abiding faith takes the form of an unlikely savior - '60s psychedelic musician Roky Erikson. At the ripe old age of 28, Hyatt attempts to make sense of the cards he has been dealt: a miserable job in a porn shop, a drug habit he cannot afford, and the wildly unstable woman he had chosen to love.
"Dark and riveting"