A small piece of background is probably useful before plunging into the review 'proper'. 
 Caris (I've moved from Mr O'Malley to the more familiar term at his invitation) and I became acquainted during the manic month known as NaNoWriMo, he as the die-hard spewer of the requisite 1667 words per day, I as the innocent reviewer of said words. It wasn't really a match made in heaven, since he specialises in a level of violence which makes Tarantino seem like Peter Pan's Wendy on a bad hair day (think Pulp Fiction where Travolta blows the brains out of someone, blood spraying everywhere and messing up the car rear window multiplied by a factor of infinity), and my reading tastes tend to coincide with those of a young middle-grader. The one scene in his Clownstory where we connected was when the hand of his hero/protagonist welded itself to a knife. As a serious and critical reviewer, I asked whether he was intending that the protagonist's other hand should also weld to the knife, thus making 'our hero' a completely hands-on dispatcher of insane clowns. As it turned out, I'm given to understand the suggestion had merit, but related little to the underlying theme of violent television programs, thus the protagonist served the purpose better by having his other hand make irreversible contact with an idiot box, before proceeding to nullify said clowns. 
 We briefly colluded on his review thread of Mykle Hansen's Ethical Cannibals where he promised to complete a collaborative project with Mr Hansen as a Part II entitled How to Assemble the Perfect People Taco. The conception was Caris' reading this break-through author, who, in lamenting the overlap with his own work, forms the basis for beginning this review. Caris' idea was given further credibility when acclaimed activist K.I. Hope, described it as "the best idea in the history of literature." 
 Which left us both at an impasse. Caris' imagination clearly attracted my own. So, in a moment of supreme sensibility he crafted the The Egg Said Nothing - Puppy Version, which I will now proceed to review. 
 We have a number of different interpretations which can be placed upon this novel. A well-received existentialist explanation defies description. 
 In the same vein, although somewhat more pragmatic, if a little phlegmatic, this reviewer noted many boxes had been ticked and approved the psychic aspect of The Egg Said Nothing. 
 At least once, a reader felt so removed from his own reality as to envision himself falling asleep at the wheel in order to remain 'at one' with the book. The lack of spelling mistakes also indicates the depth of meaning this book can inspire. 
 The existence of the Egg itself could be said to have sparked controversy. What is its true meaning? Is it, in fact, a metaphor for gender roles? Does it signify the potential for developing a nesting instinct? Is it an analogy for a future in which both sexes will reproduce? 
 The romance seems critical, and yet we are left asking ourselves, 'what did it all really mean?'. True love is effervescent and ephemeral, dependent on the right place and the right time? 
 The main character is an introverted trauma waiting to happen who realises his infinite potentiality with the aid of a puppy. He finds redemption in an endlessly self-articulating universe and realises with the advent of the Egg, he is not alone. 
 In ending this review, which has attempted to explain the fundamental temporal and mannyfold premise upon which this novel is built, let us return to K.I. Hope, who provides a lucid metaphysical deconstruction repeated elsewhere, mirroring the coda of The Egg Said Nothing. 
 In other words, read it.