Friday, July 10, 2009


I read at a snail's pace this year. I feel curiously unmotivated, unimaginative, and unmotivated, like I've lost my soul or spirit animal. I'm not writing much, not doing any deep thinking, and when I play word games on Facebook I score far below my typical levels.

When in the dumps it never hurts to get some good Dick. Here Phil splits himself into two characters: one called "Phil," which is the rational sci-fi writer, the other called "Nick," the part of Phil who had synchronistic and mystic experiences and visions. The things that happen to "Nick" are things which actually happened to "Phil," but in his novel Dick makes "Phil" the questioner, the seeker of logical explanations. "Nick" gets to serve as Host to a re-awakening 1st-century saint of some kind, in communication with an alien satellite. Or a Communist conspiracy? Who knows for sure?

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