“Gib Strange is a kind of everyman’s Kierkegaard . . . His domestic genius is his ability to evoke sympathy for the absurd in the tragic comedy of being a human being . . . His often playful and sardonic, hide and seek arrow hits the bullseye in his accurate fix on our latitude and longitude . . . Sometimes you feel as though you got a novel in a sentence . . . There is an overall delightful and refreshing absence of the pursuit of intentional ‘art’ in his work, which at the same time manages to avoid surrendering to the hazardous sand trap of a realistic nihilism that often accompanies such efforts . . . If you don’t recognize the fragmented world he presents us with you haven’t really been here. But he has and he leaves tracks in a kinder snow . . . His book is medicine for melancholy and more. It leaves you with a taste of the arrival of latent emancipation.”

—Dennis McBride, author of Looking for Peoria: The Epicurean at Rest

There’s funny, sad, and weird liminal spaces we all wander into, at least now and again, particularly in this post-everything era. With Notes from the Uncanny Valley, Gib is both the architecture and concierge. We tour his mind and note how similar it is to our own. It’s a mind of these times. Gib ruminates and imagines, he sees stuff on TV in the community room, he meets reality’s refugees in the elevator and on the identical floors of his building, and he sees them on the streets, passing by ‘like some kind of cosmic prank.’ From bugs to Bigfoot, from the psychotic and pounding neighbour in 527 to the calm and purring Stranger, there’s quite a cast of characters here.

“As Gib says himself – ‘Science fiction authors are now setting their books in the present rather than the future. There doesn’t seem to be enough space left in the future.’ Notes from the Uncanny Valley is set in such a present. It might look back and sometimes imagine a forward, but really it knows that there is only an oneiric present and we’re just row, row, rowing our boats gently down the stream.”

—Garret Shanley, screenwriter of Vivarium and Without Name

“Gib is an Underground Man for the Internet Age. He’s an affable but almost affectless guide to a futuristic dystopia that has already arrived, whether we realize it or not. If we’re all living in someone else’s vast, virtual-reality simulation… then Gib is already operating in that simulation’s near-future, where we’re all destined to find ourselves (if we still have a future…).”

—Derek Swannson, author of Crash Gordon and the Illuminati Underground

“I‘d rather not say how talented I think Gib Strange is; I‘d never forgive myself if it went to his head. Suffice it to say that Notes from Uncanny Valley is the only podcast I listen to regularly. If you ever wondered what sort of radio signals can be heard on the margins of the margins, wonder no more. This is it. Truth is Stranger. Heart-warming in its alienation.“

—Jasun Horsley, author of Seen and Not Seen: Confessions of a Movie Autist