The Bet... And Just Whose Memory is it Anyway?

One of the few "vague memories" I have is of a time before my time. I suppose I could have been alive as I am now at the time, however I would have been not much older than a toddler. This is one of the few vague memories I seem to have had as Philip Dick. Obviously, they can't be my memories as I am. It must have been one of the times where I feel that somehow Phil and I co-habitated the same physical space, body in this instance. His body.

It seems I recall a time when Phil was talking to one or a few of his friends and he made a bet that he would survive physical death. I want to say that it was with fellow writers with whom he had shared this with. I have no idea what the stakes were. I just feel as if he made that "I'll be back" proclamation. 

For what it's worth, Phil won. Because somehow, he and I are the same... And, in that regard, he did survive physical death. It's difficult to explain. I don't expect many people to believe me, let alone understand me. 

If you've ever watched The Matrix, and I suspect many of you have, it is similar to a scene where I believe Neo or Mr. Smith is explaining how it was when Neo joined with Mr. Smith at the end of the first movie. To paraphrase... "It's like a part of him was grafted onto a part of me". As in "one"...

I've been wanting to write this post for a long time, but as you can imagine, I was hesitant. How in the world could I make such a grand proclamation without any evidence. If you didn't think me crazy before, surely you do now.  I was planning on some long, thoughtful post, but that time is not now. I do need to let it be known now.  I suppose, based on what I HAVE been through and faith, some may think it possible. I believe there is more that I could remember if I were to be examined and if I were to examine. I don't expect any grand homecoming or sweeping congratulations, etc. But, what's done is done, and I will find some way to prove it. 

Frank Bertrand writings about PKD on Scribd

Frank Bertrand has been a Philip Dick fan since probably before I was born. In the 70's and 80's he conducted several interviews with Phil, and has written extensively about him since Phil's death.

I read a few of his articles when I first had the "PKD connection" on 6-23-2002. I'll be rereading those articles and even more for the first time.

His writings can be found here at Scribd

I've got a lot of rereading to do so I can complete this memoir. I'm looking forward to it.

Thank you, Frank, for all the time and hard work you have put in for the PKD community.

My Memoir Kickstarter Project Launched

I've officially launched my Kickstarter project today. Kickstarter is a fundraising site for creative projects. In this model, one launches a project and sets a deadline to meet their funding goal (1-60 days). If the funding is not met then the project will not be funded. It is an all-or-nothing situation.  Rewards (usually in the form of the finished product, e.g. books, CD's, DVD's, ect.  The more you donate, the better the rewards. Also rewarding, is knowing that you will help someone fulfill one of their dreams, that they may not have been able to do otherwise.

My memoir, called Alienus Tempus, concerns how I manage mental illness and common and not-so common philosophical inquiries while trying to explain mysterious and remarkable events that concern the late science fiction writer, Philip K Dick.

If you happen to read this post, please take a look at my project even if you decide not to donate. That's okay... just so you know that one day this memoir will be available to everyone at no cost.  I want to get this story out. It's my dharma.

Counter-Clock World

As the dawn of the 21st Century approaches in Philip K. Dick's "Counter-Clock World", the Earth enters what is known as the Hobart Phase. The beginning of this phase is marked by what essentially amounts to a reversal of Entropy. The buried Dead can be heard scratching at their enclosures and yelling for assistance. Cigarette butts are taken from ashtrays and smoked into full length sticks and then packaged. The Old get younger and copulation marks the end of a pregnancy. A greeting is announced by "Good-bye" and parting with "Hello". Books are eradicated at the Library instead of checked out.

Sebastian Hermes is the owner and manager of the "Flask of Hermes" Vitarium. There, he leads a motley crew consisting of a physician, a salesman, a techie and a priest. His business is that of assisting the "Reborn" and then negotiating a sale to any party interested.

As the rebirth of a prominent religious leader, Anarch Peak, is forthcoming, rivalry ensues amongst certain government factions, Hermes's Vitarium, the Uditi , and the Library. For whomever controls the Anarch, may very well control the world.

Philip Dick Quote on Zen Page a day Calendar

This a page from the Page A Day group of Calendars. This one comes from the Zen Page A Day. There are most certainly better quotes from that calendar I could post, but ... you know, with the PKD Connection, and all. It seems like its meant to be phrased in such black and white issue. However, we could also speak of not only physical reality, social reality, philosophical reality. And just what is consensal reality, anyway? Do we really know?

Dissension

I recently traveled to a mountain state for a short term contract in my field. They put me up in a shitty dorm room with communal toilets and shower. The room was horrid and reeked of pipe tobacco smoke. I arrived on a Sunday, and shortly after I arrived for work on Monday began vomiting. I don't know whether it was the "water" in the room's decrepid sink, the smell of pipe tabacco smoke, or simply a 24 hour stomach virus. I left my first day sick and went to a covenient store to buy some bottled water and pepto bismo tablets. While the lady was trying to dispel the static electricity making the plastic bags stick together, I immediately had to place my hand over my mouth. It was not good. I vomited again outside the door to the station, and 3 more times next to my car.

I was supposed to work Monday thru Thursday 10 hour shifts. I was there 2 hours on monday before i had to leave. I offered to just "delete" monday, and start Tuesday thru Friday to make up for Monday. That was agreed upon. I worked two full 10 hour shifts on Tuesday and Thursday, and 1.5 hours on Thursday, before I was called by my company, saying that "I have some unfortunate news, they don't want you there. This is not the appropriate place to talk, so you need to leave "Now" and pack up your things from the dorms".

I drove 20 hours to get there last Friday (Feb 15) and had to leave "immediately" to go back home. Not to mention, I was expecting a full paycheck, because I have checks out to pay for bills, etc.

I turns out that the manager of the institution I was at said there were personality conflicts.
What! She wasn't even there on Tuesday! How the hell could she possibly know? As far as I know, I was getting along well with everyone. Sure, one guy was of the opinion that "liberals" were all bad, and I being liberal on most political and social issues made my case that "we" are not all bad. He's a right-wing conspiracy nut. Good lord, if only he knew. Anyway, we actually had a decent, civil conversation. We even talked about "God". He mentioned how many religions were similar. I concurred and also told him of a bumper sticker I had seen on a website; the one that says: "God is too big to fit inside any one religion" and how I thought it was appropriate.
Well, the manager walked by at the same time. I'm sure she heard it.

The next day is when I got the call from my agency instructing me to leave. See, they had a regular employee that was to start in the middle of March. According to the schedule, she was starting 2 weeks prior to that.

Is it possible that the new employee got there sooner and they wanted to start her ASAP? Why pay an agency contractor if they can make up an excuse for lack of performance, or not learning fast enough, so that they can get out of said contract?

I believe that either that is the case or I am being discriminated upon based on political and religious beliefs.

Now my company may not reimburse me for all the traveling that I've done. I will find out for sure next week when a "review board" meets.

That is just not fair! Now my bank account will have a negative balance because by the time those checks go through I will not have enough in my account. I had to take enough out for the gas home and a hotel room for a night.

I was so enraged and hurt. I'm surprised I even made it home in one piece. I screamed at the top of my lungs while driving, "Why is this happening to me?". I had a funny feeling something like this would happen. It had the eery familiarness as did the Georgia assignment.

I had a dream a couple of months ago while at the Georgia assignment that my account rep called and told me that they could not help me any longer.

It was this account manager (not even the one that was I had been dealing with about the new assignment) that called me and told me I had to get out. He will most likely be the one that will call me with the "boards" decision. I have a feeling that regardless of what I write in my email statement, that this is the way it will go.

You see, VALIS, or something like it is indeed this world's operator, and unfortunately, I am mixed with it somehow. Just like Philip Dick, we were/are thrown in the middle of all this. I just don't know whether we found VALIS or VALIS found us.

I don't know what to do now. I am jobless. My SO freaks out over these issues. She if physically and emotionally and mentally aggressive. If she would give me 6 months to a year to write and publish my first novel, I KNOW that I could make enough to earn a living. Not a great living, but at least enough to help rear my child and continue to do what I know it is that I am supposed to be doing. Writing. At least in part of what I am to do.

Why? Why does it have to be so hard?

To any agents and editors: if you feel VALIS is tugging at you and your are indeed moved to hear what I may have to say; I have several fiction projects in the works. I could have one of them finished very soon. A little interest shown, can move a universe.

Sorry for the Rant.

I found Phil

I had the privilege of visiting PKD's and Jane's resting place yesterday. I was traveling I-80 to Wyoming and detoured just a bit to Fort Morgan, Colorado. While at the cemetary it took anywhere from 1 - 2 hours of riding and walking around to finally locate them. But, I did. It was disheartening not to see any flowers or other items. On the other hand, there was a little bit of ice in front of the headstone with a space about an inch wide across the stone where the ice had melted. Within that space I found 3 pens, and a tiny plastic sheep. I ran back to my car and found one of my writing pens to add to the collection.

I was questioning Phil in my own insane way, and requested that if he was capable, to show, or help me show, that there is at least some validity to what I am have been trying to explain to her.

Around that same time the wind really picked up speed (although it fairly windy already) and the industrial sugar plant across the road made some kind of unique roar.

Back home my SO is a very compassionate nurse at a nursing home. She's a fairly skeptical person in most regards. However, for the past year and a half she's worked at this most recent job she has admitted to me of seeing dark shadows and on very few occasions, a sort of bright whitish apparition.

[My daughter went with her to work last night (it was only a four hour shift and no school the next day)] When they pulled in the drive-way there was a barn owl next to the house. That was definately a first and it happened a few hours after I requested for him to show her

I could interpret this as a synchronous event, but unlikely as this combination of events were, I still think I could chalk this one up to coincidence.

All in all, it was nice to see them.

Do Sentients dream of electric cigars?

I had another PKD dream just about three or four nightes ago. I haven't written it down anywhere but here. I should have when I first encountered the memory of it. All I know is that we both be enjoying some mighty fine cigars. But of course, we talked, it seemed like hours. And now I can't remember a damned thing of it. He looked to be about 43-48 years old in that particular dream.

Don't worry Phil, I'm coming for ya buddy. I sense you. My homeoplasmate kin. We will figure this thing out. I'm trying to write, but am lacking in some inspiration and time. Gotta' work, Phil.


"coincidences cease at the bequest of mutliple synchronicities"

This employment opportunity has given me more that enough time to write. I just need to sit down and do it. And it shall be done.

A Dickhead's Analysis of Philip K Dick's, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch

Ragle Gum over at The Total Dickhead blog is a self proclaimed PKD scholar and will be conducting a read-along/analysis of PKD's, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch. I bet it's going to be a hoot. Go on over and learn about perhaps the most fascinating, enigmatic writer this world has known.
Oh, BTW, I'm talking about PKD. Sorry, Ragle.

Shifting Realities are not so Cryptic

In November or December of 2002, while living in the trailer at 507 South Hickory, I had ordered a couple of books by Lawrence Sutin. One was an official biography of PKD, touted as the best one of any other biographies. Another book called "The Shifting Realities of Philip K Dick" was one which had various extraneous writings by Phil. Included were his own authors short biography for book jackets, various essays and a chapter in the proposed sequel to "The Man in the High Castle".

Also included were selections from Phil's Exegesis.

I would like to talk about the section of his Exegesis entitled, and bare with me here please:

"The Ultra Hidden (Cryptic) Doctrine: The Secret Meaning of the Great System of Theosophany of the World, Openly Revealed for the First Time (March 2, 1980)"

Yeah, some title huh? In this section, Phil uses his syncretory abilities to mix religions and mythic systems to come up with a possible "System of the World". Isn't it funny how he goes to extreme in mocking his title within the title itself? That's Phil, alright!

Phil claims to use the "highest sources" in coming to this conclusion, those sources consists of many of the worlds religious doctrines in an attempt to explain 2-3-74. His sensationally revolutionary occult doctrine he has derived is essentially this:

"We are dead but don't know it, reliving our former lives but on tape (programmed), in a simulated world controlled by Valis the master entity or reality generator (like Brahman), where we relive in a virtually closed cycle again and again until we manage to add enough new good karma to trigger off divine intervention, which wakes us up and causes us to simultaneously both remember and forget, so that we can begin our re-ascent back up to our real home. This, then, is purgatorio, the afterlife, and we are under constant scrutiny and judgment, but don't know it, in a perfect simulation of the world we knew and remember--v. Ubik and Lem's paradigm. We have for a long time been dying brains/souls slipping lower and lower through the realms, but the punishment of reliving this bottom-realm life is also an opportunity to add new good karma and break the vicious cycle of otherwise endless reliving of a portion of our former life. This then, the sophia summa of the six esoteric systems-seven if you count alchemy-of the entire world. Eight if you count hermeticism. We are dead, don't know it, and mechanically relive our life in a fake world until we get it right. Ma'at has judged us; we are punished, but we can change the balance...but we don't know we are here to do this, let alone know where we are. We must change the "groove" for the better or just keep coming back, not remembering, not reascending."

The preceding was as quoted in Phil's essay.

I was sitting comfortably on the couch, legs crouched, while reading this passage. Liza was playing or watching tv and Tabby was on the computer. As I was reading this, An overpowering sense of Deja Vu nearly caused me to panic. Everything, the same situation; me reading this particular passage of Phil's Exegesis in exactly the same trailer, sitting the same way. I've had deja vu before, but this nearly caused me to puke. I mean, think about it, having deja vu about reading something discussing deja vu. Okay, quick reality check, a few quick pinches, I'm still here, my daughter is playing happily on the floor in front of me. Okay, read on: This is Quoted below:

Phil: "Therefore it can be reasoned that Valis will show as few times as possible, and, if he does reveal himself to a person, Valis will becloud the situation so that the person cannot make the knowledge he has- hence the real situation- generally well known. (NOTE: This system makes use of my ten-volume meta novel. This is valuable to me.)"

Wow! This is enough of examination of this essay for now. I will go over more later. So Valis will indeed obscure any communication or relationship with it. This is of course, to protect our potentiality, of ending suffering some time or another. If too many people know about it, then the knowledge will impede upon our reawakening, and we may all be doomed to repeated cycling, forever. This is the Law. It can not be undone. I wish things were different, if I could make them would I? I don't know. In this system, everyone is given a chance, and we are all given a chance to help others, to be boddhivistas.

So, Phil, could be insane, or sick, hence Valis is not generally well known. I, myself have had mental issues, been in the hospital a couple of times. Valis again, has obscured itself. Even from me, because I still haven't concluded that I am indeed not insane. I could very well be.

I think it could have been later that night or the next night, but I was reading some more about Phil, the part where he and one of his wives see the "older" Phil at the foot of their bed. In my mind I said, "goddammit, Phil, why won't you show your self to me? Give me a sign or something, show me your here."

All of a sudden my big orange tabby cat, who was laying on the bed beside me, wrapped his teeth around my wrist. The bastard wouldn't let go. I had to spat him unfortunately rather hard for him to let go. What the hell? This was the first time he had ever done that to any of us. Tabby was witness to it, and in a sort of question herself.

Later we found out that most likely he was in heat, and this had started as a result. Male cats will sometimes link onto the females neck by biting on them. Well, we had that fixed, we had him neutered not long after, and that seemed to work just fine. Was this my sign? Some fucking sign, Phil. Thanks. That's okay, it seems I've been playing with some entity my whole life, anyway. It was playful much in Phil's own vein.

It was also around this time, in which I had a dream, that some friends of Phil, I'm assuming family too, were visiting with me in the trailer. We were exchanging theories and what not, when suddenly it became the general consensus that I was the spirit of Jane, his twin sister that had died not long after birth. Great goddammit, why was "I" the girl, was all I could think of. Think of it what you will, but I did have the dream, and I had never before postulated that I could have been Phil's sister, Jane. This could possible explain why I feel like I have written some parts of his earlier works, because I had not been yet born (not till 73). We were like Bill and Edie in "Dr. Bloodmoney". You'll have to read to find out what I mean.

Note: This does not mean that I believe I am/was Jane. It is just one of many possibities.

Reading more books, description of musical anomaly

Once we had settled in at the trailer things seemed to get better. Tabby was happy that I was working again and planning on finishing school. Liza was had just started Kindergarten. She was doing extremely well. I continued to read Phil's books, although I had never planned on reading all of them. It was sort of taboo. What happened once I had read every single piece of writing Phil had ever produced? Would the world then end? I was not sure and was not ready to find out, either. I would just keep at a decent pace. I probably read about fourteen of his books (most of them the "works" that he is known for) between then (August) and March of the next year (03).

The very first was Valis, followed by (and I'm not sure in which order): Ubik, Martian Time Slip, The Divine Invasion, Radio Free Albemuth, Time Out of Joint, Dr. Bloodmoney, A Maze of Death, The Man in the High Castle, The Transmigration of Timothy Archer, Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep, A Scanner Darkly, Flow My Tears, The Policeman Said, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, and The Penultimate Truth.

Most of these I got from Barnes and Nobles, although they usually had to special order them for me. It seems they only had a select few on the shelf, which was a real shame. The Penultimate Truth, however, I had to buy used from one of Amazon dot com's contracted online book stores. Once I had received it, some one had scratched a note on it that said: "Hi, Thanks" and was signed "Phil Thomas". How interesting! Phil's "other" that he felt he had been was Thomas in the New Testament. Perhaps it was purely coincidental, and this guy just likes to sign on the book orders, or perhaps he knew a little about Phil Dick and was just being funny. Although, there is the likelihood that it was "meant to be", even if this guy knew it. It was still interesting even if turns out to mean nothing, and is nothing. But to me, especially at the time, it meant that I was on the correct path to discovery.

Okay, I just found a paper that I listed which books I read and which order, at least for most of them. It is as follows: Valis, The Man in the High Castle, Flow my Tears the Policeman Said, The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, UBIK, Dr. Bloodmoney, A Scanner Darkly, Time out of Joint, The next few I'm not sure in which order but this is how I have them listed next: Eye in the Sky, The Divine Invasion, A Maze of Death, Martian Time Slip.

Valis was interesting, but did not bring anything into memory, it did not mean anything to me (as far as memory is concerned). However, "The Man in the High Castle" brought back memories, somehow. From the creation of Mr. Tagomi to Robert Childan, and Frank and the jewelry shop. It was all so weird. It was like I had made these characters myself. Suddenly, when I first started having these strange sensations, I felt as if I had penned the words; "he said" and "she said" umpteen million times. Like I was a writer at one time, a long time ago. What the hell was going on? I especially remember when Mr. Tagomi witnesses the alternate world, and even more when he is forced to kill the two Germans. Oh my God! The grasshopper does indeed lie heavy!

This particular instant brought me back in time to a surreal, fuck it! No. A fucking Supernatural experience I had. It felt as if I had something to do with writing this book back in 1988 or 1989. I forget which year. Since 12-14-90 I have forgotten some things that happened before 12-14-90. Nevertheless, on a particular night (it was early morning actually, and yes I had been up all night but I was wide awake) I had decided to go for a jog around town (when I first typed this current sentence I had typed "a jog around time". Hah! talk about your Freudian slip!). I was listening to a dual sided tape in my tape player "boom box" as I was putting on my shoes. I heard a song that was on the other side of the tape overpowering the song that was currently playing. That does occasionally happen and nothing is supernatural about that. Then I realized that that song was NOT on that particular tape that was in the tape deck. What? I was thinking, "This isn't right". I pressed the off button on the tape deck. The music played on, even more crisp and clear than it was before.

Determined to find out what the hell was going on I unplugged the tape recorder and fan (I thought perhaps the fan was causing me to not hear or interpret correctly. I turned everything off that was running in the room. Coming smoothly as if they were playing right there in my room was the song by Loverboy, "This could be the Night" right smack in the chorus. Knowing everything was off I also turned the light off, stepped out of the room and then switched the light back on and stepped into my bedroom. This time the music was crystal clear AND coming directly from beneath my bed. I walked over to my bed and lifted the sheet that was sweeping the floor while kneeling down to peak beneath it. Nothing was beneath it, except for the sound emanating from the apparent air. Holy shit, boy was I freaked. I immediately darted off to my mom and step dad's bedroom. There I stayed until it became light. Mom woke up and told me to go back to my bed. I told her what happened and told her I would go in there as soon as it was. l do remember thinking that I had been frightened at something that was essentially free energy. I did not know why I was afraid. This could actually benefit people. I tried to make the best of a confusing situation. But then I had other nagging thoughts, like what if it was my peers, those pricks and bitches. What if they had something to do with it. I could just imaging them somehow peeking into my room (maybe it was their collective consciousness) and laughing at me. Fucking with my mind in this sense, just like they always did in the physical sense Then I also thought if it were the Russians, doing some kind of experiment with the air waves. That was the more practical of the other theories. Of course, there is "what if I had only imagined it"? Well, I know what I imagine and what I really perceive as real. And believe me, this Really happened.

Then, there were more novels of Phil's that I had "remembered writing/reading/collaborating?" all during this time at this house, more importantly it seemed, on that one particular day when I heard music under my bed singing "This could be the Night". Those novels include "The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch", and also "Flow My Tears the Policeman Said". In "Flow my Tears" some scenes that I seem to remember from a different time/place are 1) the scene in which Jason Tavener is darted by the pneumatocysts of the octopus-like creature 2) the scene near the end when the Felix is talking to the African American at the gas station. I know there are more scenes that I remember something from but I would have to reread the novel. It's been about four years since I have last read them. In "The Three Stigmata" I remember having read before or written before the opening scene in which the colonists are doing the perky pat layout and they try to squeeze their minds into the one body. 2) the scene in which Leo Bulero is running from the creature that was beneath his desk (when he thought he was back in the real world). 3) The part where one of them is in the future when two future earth men with "big dome heads" are talking.

I should also point out that while I was reading this book, more exactly when I just read the part about the introduction to chew Z, I had gone to a convenience store (it was Huck's) to get something, maybe lottery tickets, who knows? Anyway, right on top of the check out counter lay a box of candies, which were called Chew-Z! That was the first time I had ever seen them. Another one for the interesting synchronicity files.

The Short Stories

The following week, I went to the local Barnes and Nobles and purchased a collection of short stories written by Philip K. Dick. The particular collection was "Minority Report and Other Short Stories". Of course, honoring the instigating factor in my investigations, I read "The Minority Report" first. It was essentially, about a police officer, Jon Anderton, who is head police over the pre-crime division which consists largely of pre-cognitive individuals who can tell the future if and when someone was going to be murdered.

Jon is indicated of murdering a general who supposedly wants power over the pre-crime unit. Jon gets away with it (well, almost, he is actually sent to a penal colony along with his wife) because of the minority report. Without going into further details, I did not sense any familiarity with the story until the very end, when Witworth placed his hand on the door of Anderton's vehicle and slowly walks with them as if he is personally escorting them. It is at that instant, I remember having read that story. It was a really strange feeling, a sense of remembrance so strong it is not deniable, yet no proof is available, either.

Most of the other short stories in that volume seemed interesting and like something I would myself write, but the familiarities with most of them ended there. Over the course of a few months I bought the rest of the short stories, and although I did not read all of them, I did read a majority of them.

New Research Sheds Light On Memory By Erasing It

From the Folks at Science Daily.

"For years, scientists have studied the molecular basis of memory storage, trying to find the molecules that store memory, just as DNA stores genetic memory. In an important study published this week in the Journal of Neuroscience, Brandeis University researchers report for the first time that memory storage can be induced and then biochemically erased in slices of rat hippocampus by manipulating a so-called "memory molecule," a protein kinase known as CaMKII."

John Lisman and his Lab Group have been able to confirm that CaMKII is indeed a memory molecule.

Apparantly, they saturated mouse hippocampal memory stores, and then proceeded to "attack" CaMKII which then "chemically erased" old memory stores, after which they were able to insert new memories into the synapses.

This work will pave the way for future work in Alzheimer's and other diseases in which memory loss plays an important role.

This article may be of interests to PKD fans, also. Memory may not be what was originally remembered. As soon as one floods the hippocampus with the the CaMKII, (thus we have full memory capacity) how can they then selectively target certain memories before deleting them, and inserting false memories?

The Secret Ascension

Next on my list of things to do to try to determine what the hell was going on was to see if Kent library had any works by Philip Dick or any works about him. The only two books I could find were neither written by him, however one was a biography by Douglas Mckey? and the other was a piece by Michael Bishop in which Phil was portrayed as one of the protagonists.
I checked out both of these, reading the biography first and then delving into the fictional piece by Michael Bishop. It goes by two names, one of which is "Alas, Philip K. Dick is dead" and the other is "The Secret Ascension". The hardcover I had read was titled "The Secret Ascension", which to me especially at this time, seemed more appropriate.

In the beginning of the book, we have a sort of a prologue I say sort of because this scene is integral to the entire book, from that point on. What we have is basically the science fiction writer, Philip K. Dick, somehow through nanotechnology (or so it seems) being regenerated in his old apartment. Michael Bishop, to the best of my memory refers to this copy of Phil as a ghost, or the "other". This copy of Phil is somehow strengthened by coffee, of all things, and doesn't remember who he is at the beginning. So he happens to stumble into a psychologist's office, to try to determine who he is.

The psychologist's husband, Cal, happens to be a Philip K. Dick fan, and upon learning about his wife's secret, unknown visitor, is instantly intrigued.

The major antagonist in the book is of course, Richard Nixon, although it should be noted that this is an alternate universe story. The end of the book has Phil, somewhere engaging in creating new worlds. This book is an homage to Phil, and very close to his style. This is not just my opinion.

Soon after reading the first couple of chapters, it became apparent to me that I had read this book before. When, I wasn't sure, but I know it was true. It had happened. Although, I could not prove it. The further I got into the book, the more familiar it became to me. By the time I had finished it, I knew where I had read it. The summer of 1986. I had flown out to California to stay with my biological father and his new family. I was only twelve years old at the time. I had read that novel, The Secret Ascension, that summer somewhere in Tulare, California. Exactly when and where, I had no earthly clue, But I know I had done so. The memory was more vague than anything I had memory of before. It is really difficult to explain. It was like I knew I had done that but not quite sure of the details. However, deja voe at this point had not figured to prominently in my mind. No, I hadn't thought I read it just like I read it now, but that I actually had read it in the summer of '86.

What is the big deal? The big deal is that the book was not ever published until the following year, 1987. I had confirmed this by looking at all the available editions, and even going to the author's website, and emailing him or his staff. So, what the fuck? Was I just crazy or had I really read it before? How could I explain this? I was not sure at that time, but that certainly instigated my decision to buy works from the man himself, Philip Kindred Dick. If he was trying to say something to me, I was determined to find out what. I mean, that man left his calling card on June 23, 2002.

(the girls at walmart/ phil's virtual grave)

I had to have that copy of Time magazine, I thought. Maybe there is more to it than what is on the internet. So I set out on my mini quest to obtain the magazine. It was a warm night, less humid than it had been in prior days. The stars competed with night lights, each trying to out shine each other.

Exiting the store, I noticed two young women, wearing blue walmart smocks and smoking (apparently on their lunch break?) One said to the other, "I know he's a scientists".
Then, the larger girl sitting opposite her said, "He thinks he's a god, but hes not".
Holy shit! What the hell is going on here? I mean, is that normal conversation for two young ladies on to be talking about on their lunch break? And, saying it almost as if they were reading it from a cue card. So I could hear what they were saying.

Earlier in the day my mother had come by our apartment in Cape, and brought dinner from McDonald's, for everybody. It was weird, could have been coincidental, but with everything else going on, probably not. I'm sure it happened this way for a reason. One of the toys was a Green Goblin toy advertising the Spiderman movie that we had watched earlier on Sunday. Also, there was a soda tray turned upside down. When looked at this way, it was a duplicate of the liquid chamber that the pre cogs in the movie "Minority Report" were living in. I cut one of them out, and it resembled it to a "T". Wow, was all I could think at the time.

A few days later while surfing the net I was directed to a site, it was "find a grave memorial" site, and it was a direct link to a picture of Phil's and twin sister Jane's shared grave. It wasn't until I read a comment by a guest that I was once again struck by that all to powering presence of deja vu. The comment said: "It's strange to feel sadness for someone you never you, especially someone who died 20 years ago, but your books continue to be eerily close to my own life (scary, huh?). I hope you got some answers." It was posted my "Kemek", and it is the only post or virtual flower by said person even to this day. It was posted on 6-30-02, and there was a cartoon picture of a horse's head next to it. Yet another instance of deja vu

The day after 6-23-02

The day after (Monday night and Tuesday early morning), I decided to see how much I could learn about Philip K. Dick. Certainly, I thought, it was nothing. I'm just imaging this. I was frightened, yet excited still. I had to get to the bottom of this. How was I to know, that I was about to shine light down a bottomless hole. It was sort of like what Morpheus said to Neo, "How far down the rabbit hole do you want to go?"

I went to the Google internet search site and put in 'Philip K. Dick'. One by one, I started browsing the sites that the search engine brought up. I found a few essays, biographies, etc. When I read a detailed biography of this science fiction writer, my jaw nearly dropped to the floor. My god, how many other writers have had experiences like this, science fiction writers at that. It's like he was really a part of his work. Or crazy, as some may have thought. Perhaps the first thing that got my attention was the year of his birth and death. He was born in 1928 and died in 1982. The 28 and 82 are reciprocal of each other. This, from all that I have read, was a typical phildickian thing to behold. To me, it stood out as a stark signal, a beacon in the night.

Not only that, I had learned through my searches that a few others have had seemingly synchronous events. Special timing. Some have even had dreams. What was really pronounced, was that I learned his middle initial stood for Kindred, which means 'related to' via Webster's dictionary. How fascinating. Especially for me, since it seemed like someone or something, whether it be the ghost or spirit or mind of Phil, or perhaps something artificial was wanting me to delve into the life of this science fiction writer.


My hand aching from tirelessly moving and clicking the mouse, I did not give up. There was more to see, so much more. I happened on a site called "philipkdick.com", a fan site spearheaded by Jason Koornick. Upon entering the website, the home page was simply a blue background with a retouched color photo of Philip K. Dick as a young man. It was a picture taken when married to Ann in Marin County, California. He was probably in his early thirties when the picture was taken. He was sporting a pair of dark sunglasses. The wind tussled his hair over his right temple. He was wearing a dark button tee shirt. His face was slim but thick with a wide goatee.

From my distance I was shocked to realize how similar Phil looked to my own father, when he was about that age or a little younger. In fact, if one were to superimpose a picture of my biological father and myself, I believe it would look nearly identical to Phil's picture. I went about the house searching for any old pictures I might have had of my father to compare. I used to have his marine yearbook when he graduated boot camp. However, I could not find it.

"Humph", I said aloud. The screen saver should have come on by now. Interesting. I tried to move the mouse around click on something to forward on to other pages. It was to no avail. It was like I was meant to sit there and take notice of that picture of Phil. Interesting indeed. With everything that had happened, I was sure that this was another synchronous event.

After restarting the computer (and the point had been made) I got back on the philipkdick.com fansite and began snooping around. An essay there, an interview here, a book cover or two else where. The site was chalk full of interesting literature and art. I got to a spoof page that mentioned a sponsor named Ubik. By then, I had known that Ubik was the title of one of is novels.

It was a spoof add, showing a person spraying a can of ubik onto items and they would turn back to their original state, entropy free. An outline of a large can of Ubik was situated in the center of the screen. They have modified the web page since then. But the page at that time, brought back such a strong memory of being at my biological father's house in the summer of 1986. Not only that, I had such a profound sense of deja voe, it almost made me sick. I felt somewhat dizzy. I couldn't believe this. How could this be so familiar? It seemed like my world was less mine and something right out of one of Phil's novels. At least from what I read about the man and his stories.

A little bit later, I was on the Time magazine website, and had found a page that talked mostly concerning Tom Cruise and Stephen Spielberg, but also had a short snippet about Phil. I should note that Tom Cruise was the actor playing Jon Anderton (the protagonist) and Steven Spielberg was the director. Also of note is that Steven Spielberg had a cameo appearance in Vanilla Sky.

I finally went to bed around six that morning (Tuesday morning), and had awaken around two or three pm having remembered fragments of a dream. It involved a friendship with Tom Cruise and the voice of one of the pre-cogs. It was soft, melodic, smooth, and refreshing. I could have basked in the wake of her sound waves. It was that pleasing. But I could not remember what she, he, or it had said. Nothing. I could not remember. Damn it!

Valis: The Method

This, to me, is one of the most revealing and sincere quotes that Phil has ever made. Whatever exactly Valis is, it does seem to work this way. It is also one of the many "saving graces" that I attribute to Phil that helped me during a very difficult time. The only con is that when something extraordinary occurs, Valis is always there peeking around the corner, and then tweeking to make a liar out of ya'. Oh well, what will be, Will Be.

Here it is:

"Therefore it can be reasoned that Valis will show as few times as possible, and, if he does reaveal himself to a person, Valis will becloud the situation so that the person cannot make the knowledge he has- hence the real situation- generally well known."

Alienus Tractus - Part 1 - Moby and Dick

Twigs, leaves and branches blown onto the road from the recent storm cracked and popped beneath the tires of my '90 maroon Daytona as we drove down Mulberry street. We, Tabitha and I, had left our daughter, Elizabeth, with my biological cousin (adopted sister) at my mother's house. We had just finished watching a couple movies in our home town, Capeston.

We had watched Spiderman II together, and I stayed and watched "Minority Report" while Tabby went home. She won't watch, read, or hear anything that pertains to Tom Cruise, or for that matter, Steven Spielberg. I guess you could say it's my fault. After the movies, we went to Tabby's mothers house. Well, I dropped her off (she lives in Clovil) and I went riding around in Gladstil, just 3 miles east. Gladstil is where I grew up. I don't go there often, and when I do, it's just to cruise the few streets and reminisce about all the houses We had lived in while I grew up.

Mom had gone to Bingo, leaving Liza with Britney, my sister. Liza was riding a tricycle, and when we pulled up, she looked up and grinned at us. Britney, and my other sister Shelly, and another girl; the two twins, Darel and Darek, and two other boys whom I did not know were all lounging about a yard swing in the front yard.

"Hey Bub," Britney said. "Have you met our friend? His name is Moby Dix, but we call him Moby Dick, you know, like the one in that book?"

Trying to keep from grinning too conspicuously I gave a curt nod to Moby Dick. He may have been white, but I didn't see what was so great about him. They can play innocent all they want, but I knew the joke behind the name. If they were my daughters. Well, I didn't want to get into that at that moment.

After a few minutes of meaningless talk, Liza, Tabby and I left for home, Capeston. Driving down the broken branch road, I thought, "Moby Dick, huh?". In my minds ear I began to hear that song that used to play on the radio all the time. But I haven't heard it in over two years. What was it called?

After turning left onto Business 82 I glanced at Tabby, "Do you care if I turn the radio on?"

"It's okay, go ahead", she said.

I turned the radio on to the station already preset. To my surprise, the song that would not go away in my mind was actually playing.

"Tabby," I said. "What's the name of the group that plays this song?"

"I'm not sure," she said. "But I think it's that guy Moby. He's bald and does a lot of electronica and dance music."

My mind reeled momentarily. What a coincidence!

First, when I usually go south of Capeston, it is almost always to take Liza to visit my mother. I hardly ever go to Gladstil, and when I do go there, I never stop and talk to anybody. But guess who I stopped and spoke with that day. Philip Rankins. And then, Britney's friend Moby Dick. And then (later I found out that song was "Southside" by the Group "Moby") hearing that song by Moby in my head and then hearing that as I first turned the radio on. With everything else that had happened, this was like a beacon in a storm. The movie I was going to see later was called "Minority Report" based on a short story by the science fiction writer Philip K Dick. This inevitably led to my pondering this author's middle name.

What did the K stand for? This was major Jungian type synchronicity coming into play. It had to be, with everything else that had occurred recently. It's like my own IDIOS KOSMOS has been altered from what it once was, in preparation to receive this information. It was like there was some sort of master mind controlling the way reality works. This couldn't have been just me. Certainly there was some outside objectivity to it. Either that or I truly am crazy, or um, sick.

Philip K. Dick, Who?

Every now and then, I'll mosy on over to the official PKD website and then link from there to the site that was formerly known as the unofficial home of PKD on the web, or the next best thing. The current official homepage has the web URL that the fan site used to have. So J.K. has moved his site to philipkdickfans.com. I realize I don't look at site as often as I would like to. However, there really is not much happening, except spam. Where does this spam come from? Half-life?

There we go, a new name for spammers, at least for Friends of Phil. We'll call those spammers- Half-lifers or even non-entities. Isn't there anything that they could do to redirect the traffic of those half-lifers. They're tearing up the place, man. At this rate it's all going to kipple. Let's bring Phil back into our existense, break open the lines of communication over at the Official Site and also at the Fan Site.