By: Eric Lorne

Ben “Doc” Askins doesn’t just write books—he shakes them up. Anti-Hero’s Journey: The Zero With a Thousand Faces is a 150-page psychedelic simulator wrapped in satire, stitched with existential dread, and seasoned with absurdity. Yet, for all its chaos, it reads with a surprising coherence—a philosophical joyride that is as sharp as it is hilarious.

A former combat medic and clinician, Askins is direct about who he is, what he’s seen, and what this book is meant to accomplish. It’s not designed to simply entertain or inspire. It’s here to challenge you.

Walking the Tightrope Between Absurdity and Awakening

Askins acknowledges there wasn’t a clear effort to balance profundity with humor. For him, they aren’t opposites; they are two sides of the same coin. “Every single thing you think is so profound right now will likely seem completely absurd to you someday… if you’re fortunate,” he reflects. “Truth is grotesque and hilarious. So is this book. I danced through it like a drunk Zen clown.”

Humor, for Askins, isn’t just a way to cope—it’s a way to transmit deeper insights. “It’s the spoonful of sugar that helps the existential dread go down.” One moment he’s quoting Wittgenstein, the next he’s tossing out a crude joke. And somehow, it all feels right.

Too Far, or Not Far Enough? Always Both

When asked if he ever hesitated while writing, Askins doesn’t flinch. “Every page. And not once.” He sees writing as a high-stakes act of truth-telling. If it doesn’t provoke, what’s the point?

“If you’re not offending somebody, you’re probably just publishing LinkedIn posts,” he quips. “This book’s a tightrope over a bottomless pit, and I left the safety net at home.” He’s not aiming for safe or polite. He’s aiming for authenticity. And authenticity, in his world, is always sharp-edged.

The Voice in Your Head? Imagine Deadpool Meets Alan Watts

Askins doesn’t see himself as the narrator of the book. He sees himself as a voice already inside you, disguised, waiting to be recognized. “Alan Watts with PTSD. Deadpool with a theology degree. Your favorite teacher on mushrooms or your worst enemy in therapy. In other words: me, but in your voice. The real one.”

It’s a spiritual excavation. He hands readers a shovel and says: “We’re gonna dig a grave or garden, you choose.”

Humor Isn’t a Distraction—It’s a Weapon

Far from being afraid of downplaying trauma, Askins uses humor to confront it directly. “If you can’t laugh at your suffering, you’re still owned by it,” he insists. “Humor isn’t minimizing—it’s unlocking. It’s how we get truth past the trauma gatekeepers.”

In this sense, comedy is sacred. It isn’t used to hide from pain—it’s used to transform it. As he puts it: “Satire is the knife that peels back sacred cows.” And Anti-Hero’s Journey is a butcher shop.

A Frankenstein Voice Forged in War and Therapy

Askins’ background—as both a soldier and clinician—infuses his voice with hard-earned authority. “I’ve watched people die because of actions I’ve taken and begged people to live in spite of the actions they’ve taken,” he says. “I’ve written prescriptions for Zoloft and read the Tao. I’ve tapered the Zoloft and prescribed the Tao too.”

This lived tension—between violence and healing, between despair and transcendence—gives his writing its distinct punch. “The narrative voice is a stitched-together Frankenstein of compassion, gallows humor, and PTSD-induced clarity,” he adds.

If it sounds like he’s earned the right to critique society, the military, religion, therapy, and identity, he has. But it’s never cynicism for cynicism’s sake. It’s deconstruction with purpose.

A Book That Unwrites You

At its heart, Anti-Hero’s Journey isn’t just satire or memoir—it’s a disruptive spiritual experience. A challenge to everything you think you know about yourself, your suffering, and the world you live in. Askins doesn’t aim to provide comfort. He seeks to rearrange your perspective. “I wrote the book to unwrite you,” he shares.

Readers have compared it to whitewater rafting without a kayak. A three-star general even called it “quite the trip.” And Askins? He’s just laughing from the void, smiling like someone who’s finally found peace in the absurdity of it all.

So what are you left with after reading Ben “Doc” Askins?

Probably not the answers you were expecting—but maybe the freedom to stop asking. Maybe just the breath, the shovel, and the terrifying, beautiful now.

And maybe, just maybe, the courage to laugh as it all unfolds.

Disclaimer: The content presented is intended for informational and entertainment purposes only and should not be interpreted as medical, psychological, or professional advice. The article touches on complex themes related to humor, trauma, and personal reflection, and readers are encouraged to approach the material with an open mind while being aware of its potential to evoke strong reactions. The use of humor, satire, and provocative language is meant to challenge perspectives, not to undermine or trivialize the experiences of others.