Only my current interest in fiction about 9/11 kept me reading 'til the final page. And the only thing I liked about the book was the acknowledgments, which were funny and clever.
The book, however, was "funny" and "clever," a mock-oral history where every character speaks in the same voice, except for a couple of tin-eared attempts to include "black" voices. On the plus side, Delson mocks the gravitas of "tragedy" assumed by so many post-9/11, but on the minus side there's no reason, point, interest, even fun in the book's use of that event.
Normally I give up on a book I dislike long before it brings me to an active hate, so maybe I'm being particularly mean-spirited here because I forced myself to finish. Mea culpa.