Strange title? Mental poison? Except that it isn’t, it’s just the first of the many paradoxes in this surrealistic tale. I should warn you — you will wonder what this book’s about and then part way through you will think it’s not about anything. But when you finish it (and you will, because it’s a good read) you’ll realize it’s about “something” only in the way a good poem is about “something”. Or maybe a Richard Brautigan novel. Cerebral Cyanide is about nothing, it’s about everything. It’s an unsentimental, dream-like, hyper-real novel that is disturbing, funny, unsettling, subtle, and might lead your mind into some worthwhile places. It’s a set of images that will enter your mind and whisper things you didn’t expect to hear. It’s a well-written, postmodern, small beauty of a book whose writer delivers a punch of sex appeal along with his understated philosophy. You should read Warren Weappa – you’ll like him.