The Men Who Stare at Goats By Jon Ronson Simon & Schuster, 259 pp., $24 Buy this book more books most popular most commented Welcome to New York Comic Con by Carol Cooper A Voice Poetry Roundup by Alan Gilbert Etgar Keret's Short-Story Overload by Michelle Orange David Samuels' Doubleheader by James Hannaham Keith Gessen and Nathaniel Rich: The New-Gen Pen Men by ALEXANDER NAZARYAN NYPD Inaction Over a Missing Black Woman Found Dead Sparks a Historic Racial-Bias Lawsuit by Sean Gardiner Why Can't I Leave My Boyfriend Tied Up While I Go the Movies? Savage Love by Dan Savage Speed Racer by J. Hoberman The NYPD's Secret Crusade Against Marijuana Furthers a Racist Agenda by Nat Hentoff The Gospel According to Dolly Parton Down in Front by Rob Harvilla Former Scientologist Actor Wants his Confessional Files Back (8) Tony Ortega Dirty Blonde: Brooklyn, a Place to Impress Strangers (4) Dirty Blonde: Annie Fischer David Mamet: Why I Am No Longer a 'Brain-Dead Liberal' (3) David Mamet Mr. Roboto: Fits to Print (3) Mr. Roboto: Brendan I. Koerner Runnin' Scared: Deep South of Houston: Is a Soul-Food Restaurant Too Black for Soho? (2) Runnin' Scared: Chloe A. Hilliard

The titular livestock are the doomed subjects of a secret U.S. Army training program that, when successful, results in the bursting of a goat's heart by mere thought suggestion. I kid you not. Ronson, "essentially a humorous journalist" in his own estimation, peeks into the mind of a military shaken to its core after Vietnam's failure and desperate to welcome new-age methodologies for both battle and interrogation. Possessing sharp timing and a characteristically dry Brit wit, Ronson specializes in such offbeat topics; his previous Them: Adventures With Extremists wryly chronicled weeks spent with conspiracy theorists, Klan members, and Islamic terrorists.

Ronson's humor rightly evaporates once he connects these flower-child-like forays into psych warfare with their bastardization at Abu Ghraib. Ignoring all distinction between the merely absurd and the sublimely ridiculous, Ronson's account subtly implies that the eccentric, the clownish, and the more Machiavellian members of society are often one and the same. Though his tone may irk, his instinct for finding serious characters who say silly things is singular and irresistible, as the words of one ex–military man prove: "I invite the wind! The wind will come if you ask it to. Do you believe that? Come to my banyan tree." We have no choice but to follow.