Uncanny Valley, in an unanticipated way, takes further jabs at conspiracy culture like Llewellyn's prior instalment to the range, this time the typically inductive nature that conspiracy theorists practice to make their hypotheses more convincing, and to induce a binding sense of factionalism; it is easier to propose that the world comprises of 'us versus them' if the 'them' is described as broadly as possible. When Wilson gives his tell-all accounts of the Committee in The Conspiracy - crucially under the pretence that he is trying to convince his audience of something he himself does not believe - they are surmised in the vein of the archetypical cabal of hyper-rich socialites, heavily connected to military-industrial complexes. The follow-up presented here may sacrifice some class consciousness in posing Cree's Redmond, a billionaire software engineer for every warmonger you can conceive, as 'one of the good ones' being manipulated by the Committee, his earnest insecurities about body image and his autonomy emphasising such. For this, as well as the complete sincerity with which it plays the notion of 'a man is cuckolded by a robot duplicate of himself, who can see through the eyes of on a whim,' absent of any comedic intonation, I would not consider Uncanny Valley an all too self-aware story, but it nevertheless maintains a dialectic pretence in how it broaches its continued critique of conspiracy culture at large in portraying Redmond with any foothold on his humanity.