REDRUM.

Puberty sucks hard.

I’m in a mood tonight to watch The Shining. Well, tonight or tomorrow sometime. I’m a scary movie mood, I guess. Something festive. Something seasonal. And I’m open to suggestions. Conrad Noir suggested The Exorcist which, no joke, I’ve never seen. Occam Razor suggested The Wicker Man remake with Nic Cage which, unfortuanetly, I have seen. And Benjamin Light made a joke about some new movie about a reanimated zombie pop star called This Is It.

All work and no play puts Marco Sparks in a mellow Halloween mood. The Shining, it is. Martin Scorsese agrees with me. Trick or treat, you sons of bitches.

This is roughly my mood as of this moment.

In the hall of the mountain kings I stood high upon a mountaintop, naked to the world.

Some thoughts the song “Spill The Wine” by Eric Burdon and War, featured on the album Eric Burdon Declares “War,” which came out the same year as their other collaborative album, The Black-Man’s Burdon.

They cannot take away your music.

When I was a kid, this song only seemed to come on when I was deep in the throes of night, or sleep, or perhaps madness.

Some “interesting” facts about “Spill The Wine” via songfacts:

  • This song features a harmonica, flute, and conga drums.
  • This is widely believed to be about, or at least heavily influenced by drugs. According to Brown, this song celebrates women: “All ladies are beautiful. You’ve got to look at them. God, I believe, put all of us here and made us all different so we could be like the flowers, you know. Like women. I look at them as beautiful flowers. Even when they get older, the flowers and so on, and that’s what it really boils down to, they can be skinny, big, fat, I’ve seen some fine voluptuous women. And then I’ve seen some that are skinny, and if you look at them, they could be beautiful, depending on personality and stuff.”

  • Jimi Hendrix‘ former girlfriend sang backup. Hendrix was managed by Animal’s bass player Chas Chandler.
  • The lady speaking Spanish in the background was Eric Burdon’s girlfriend. Says Brown: “We went back there and we put up a little tent, candlelight, and some wine back there. They were behind there, and Eric was doing things to her and making her talk.”

Where the fuck is Ringo, you bitch?

  • This was used in the movie Boogie Nights as part of a pool party scene with the porn stars.
  • The Isley Brothers covered this in 1971 on their album Givin’ It All Back

And that sounds a little something like this:

As a kid, I had the radio on a lot. This was when the radio was better, mind you, and I kept it around like a secret lover or some kind of invisible friend. I’d cheat on it a lot with CDs and tapes and vinyl, a lot, but many a night I spent seized in a radio daze, or I’d listen to it while getting ready for school or for work or a dance or a date or something.

Bee Girl.One of the many species classified under the larger phylum “alternarock.”

For most of high school it was the “alternative rock” station for me, but I did flirt a year there with the “alternative rock” station that was slightly harder, which basically meant that I had to put up with a lot of bullshit like “mandatory Metallica” and following up a band like Kittie or Jane’s Addiction with AC/DC. How sad is it that I can’t remember the good songs I got in return from that station? I just remember they played “Bound For The Floor” a lot.

Wee little Marco Sparks.

Rewinding the tape back to somewhere in my much younger years when I was a stupid little shit who’d read, daydream, ponder, fascinate, and shit along with the radio, you should probably know I kept floating back and forth between classic rock and Motown. Those were my bag back then.

Berry Gordy, Michael Jackson, nd Suzanne de Passe.

Hence all of my old school music knowledge/anecdotes being about things like Keith Moon’s addiction to horse tranquilizers or waxing nostalgic about Berry Gordy’s sex habits.

Keith Moon, man about town.The Who’s “Who Are You?” was about Keith’s tendency to pass on street corners during drug binges only to be discovered by police the next day who assumed he was dead.

Anyway. I remember the Animals’ “House Of The Rising Sun” and I knew War’s “Cisco Kid” and “Why Can’t We Be Friends?” The radio loved those songs. And then I heard this song one night, “Spill The Wine,” and it was late at night as my father were driving around, lost in the Hollywood hills, high above the world. It was a mash up by two artists I liked before I knew what a mash up. I was tired, my eyes were heavy, and this song started dictating images to me as I looked down at the world, and I would get lost in the idylls of walking through the set of a Hollywood movie that was packed with mountain kings and a harem of women and wine spilt all about. And I was easily swept away in the mystical and engimatic nature of the song, which everyone assumes the song refers to drugs, which it does in a way, but you have to remember that the prizely grown native drug of California will always be sex, and the song enthusiastically endorses going after that pearl as many times as you can get it. If I had actually known what a clitoris was back when I was a kid, well…

Art and words.

But what else is new?From a series called “Text Pieces” by Stefan Brüggemann, which I originally discovered here. Included: quotes about art that perhaps illuminate the _____ of art.

Do not even try.

“The purpose of art is washing the dust of daily life off our souls.”

-Pablo Picasso.

This is not supposed to be here.

“The object of art is to give life a shape.”

-William Shakespeare.

All my explanations are rubbish.

“The principle of true art is not to portray, but to evoke.”

-Jerzy Kosinksi.

Sometimes I think...

“The perfection of art is to conceal art.”

-Marcus Fabius Quintilian.

And then we start all over again.

Cosmic collision course.

That’s the lovely Felicia Day in a PSA from the Spitzer Science Center explaining why we shouldn’t fear the Andromeda galaxy because of IT’S IMPENDING MASSIVE COLLISION WITH OUR OWN GALAXY. Though, she’s right, of course.

This image is an effective metaphor for what this show has been like conceptually and from a network television standpoint.

I want to lament the also impending loss of Joss Whedon’s Dollhouse, which is slowly getting better as it crawls through it’s second season (and is taken off the air during November sweeps, only to be doubled up during December so that FOX can effectively kill off it’s produced run of episodes good and proper), which we will get to see in it’s entirety, as Fox has previously assured us, though it’ll only 13 or so episodes.

Is the post apocalyptic world and effective metaphor for an actor left behind after a television show is cancelled?

I especially mention Dollhouse here because last season was somewhat less than stellar and I would say that it’s an understatement that a great many of us were shocked to see it get renewed by the network, even if that renewal was short lived. But Felicia Day guest starred in the only available on DVD last episode of the last seasion, a future-set epilogue to the show in general that could’ve effectively worked as a pilot for it’s own vastly more interesting show.

Climbing into the future. And obscurity.

Supposedly this second season was going to start with a call back featuring Day, who is so much the anti-Eliza Dushku, to that post-apocalyptic impending future that was glimpsed in that last episode, entitled “Epitaph One,” but Joss Whedon decided to hold it until later in the season. I just hope that before Dollhouse gets put away forever that a little more of that future stuff sees the light of (Felicia) Day, to pardon the incredibly poor pun.

Night of the dawn of the living OBLIGATORY HOT NERD GIRL CRUSH PICTURE.

Also, Rick Fox will always always always look like a sleazy man, right?

The guy who cheated on Vanessa Williams and his Foxy Lady.

The Names.

Life in a box.

Halloween fast approaches, both here on Mad Men with last night’s excellent episode, “The Gypsy And The Hobo,” and it’s time to put on a mask and be someone else for a night. Or, even more terrifying, time to take off the mask off. Either way, join us for the dog food focus group that August and Marco have in store…

This dog food is made out of WHAT!?

August Bravo: “I’m not going to sit here and brag about how big I am.”

Bragging rights.

Marco Sparks: You know, if it weren’t for the big confrontation between Don and Betty towards the end of this episode, this would’ve been Roger’s sterling moment, I think.

It was fascinating to see Roger, the guy who’s always lived his life like he was on shore leave, through the eyes of someone else, the woman who got away. And when they try to look back on their lives though Casablanca-colored glasses, she, of course, sees herself as Ilsa. And Roger sees her as Peter Lorre.

Ha ha! Ouch.

August: I can’t get over Betty in this episode. Oh Betts. Trying to get Don to shell out some cash, because you know he’s good for it, and then start asking some questions.

Marco: I felt that moment strongly. Whenever you learn a deep dark secret about someone, especially someone you care about, something so unbelievable, of course you start to think yourself that it might actually be unbelievable. You don’t want to throw all your cards on the table yet. I think she wanted Don to go into his secret drawer full of bills there and give her more justification to get at him about this whole Dick Whitman nonsense. It’s entrapment, but emotionally needed entrapment on Betty’s part.

August: Okay, back to Roger and his old flame.

Marco: An old flame who apparently is still carrying the torch for Mr. Sterling.

August: I think Roger’s probably got a lot of skeletons in his closet. And that bitch looked an awful lot like a skeleton.

Marco: You think so? I wouldn’t mind being her cougar meal, I think.

August: Maybe I’m just too used to his new wife, Jane. The “teenager wife.”

Marco: “Does Mona know?” Which was one of the best lines of last week’s episode that we criminally neglected.

Suzanne, the plans they made nearly put an end to you.

August: Every time Don’s new breeze talks, I like it. She doesn’t push anything. She knows what she wants. She obviously knows what Don wants, yet she never pressures him on it. It’s so unusual. The last thing you would expect is Don to do anything rash because she’s not asking him too, but I could see it happening because it seems so right. I love her character. She’s a woman in the fictional 1960s, but her personality nicely compliments someone in our day and age.

Marco: I think August Bravo wants to date Miss Farrell.

If we hadn’t seen her interacting with other characters, I’d almost think that she was a figment of the imagination of Don Draper’s escapist side. I think she is a dream come true, but not tethered to any concrete reality, except when she gets smart and gets scared of the situation she’s in. A guy like Don Draper could fuck up her life in a lot of ways, and I think she knows it.

Into the mystic.

But letting him off the hook so easily, fear of losing her job aside, is just too much for me. I still ponder if she’s going to reveal a slightly crazy side before this season is out. From going to a place called Mystic, which sounds like a magical Never Neverland for young lovers on the run, to a little Play Misty For Me?

August: Okay, I gotta say this. WTF is Joan still doing on this show?

Joan Fucking Holloway... Harris.from here.

Marco: She’s playing with out tightly wound emotions, for one.

August: It’s not that I want to see her go, but she needs to just come back to Sterling Cooper already. It certainly would appear that she wants to, but that she must also maintain her pride.

Marco: With everything that she’s been put through and put herself through for this husband of hers, I’m glad Joan maintains a sense of pride. As I’ve said before, she is the sexy spine of this show. If she doesn’t have pride, no one on this show should. She’s Joan Fucking Holloway after all.

August: She really, really does deserve better than this shitty fiancee of hers. Wait, are they actually married? This guy is such a pussy little kid. And I hope that she really puts him in his fucking place.

Marco: For now, I just want to see her break a vase over his fucking head.

from here.

OH. WAIT. THAT HAPPENED. And it twas awesome.

But it ties into something that I can’t help with this show, which isn’t just a view of the past, but the way the future sits right on top of the past, from our perspective anyway. I love how we’re watching these characters in this place culturally,and in this time period, and we know what’s going to happen. Not just intellectually, but you can feel it building behind the scenes, between the moments.

Civil rights and women’s liberation and drugs and the Beatles and an even freer sense of free love and geopolitical paranoia are about to wash over all these characters, changing just about everything they know, and you just have to wonder how they’re going to get caught up or lost within these events. One of them being Vietnam. And I honestly can’t wait to watch Dr. McRapist die face down in the shit.

August: Now why does Betty’s little brother care to much about that house?

Marco: I’d like to say that it has something to do with family and memories and a sense of belonging, but this little shit just wants to sell the place, it seems. Perhaps to reaffirm his manliness within the context of his family? And then there’s their dad’s lawyer…

August: Yeah, really. Life was different in the 60s. Husbands can cheat on you, you may or may not know, but you still shouldn’t consider divorcing him, not really, because he “provides” for you and the children.

Peggy and Smitty.

Marco: Remind me to get my next divorce in New York state. For serious.

August: What did Betty want out of the conversation with the lawyer? It just seems like she wants someone to make a decision for her, that she’s so indecisive that she’s wanting someone to tell her what to do, because maybe she doesn’t even know what she wants.

Marco: For starters, I think she got some bad legal advice there. The guy may have been right, in that era perhaps, but it also seems like a very one-sided view of her situation. A very male, perhaps way too pro-family view. I mean, couldn’t you make the argument that by lying to her about who he is, Don defrauded her and therefore their entire marriage is a sham? I think she’d be entitled to something more than the crown she wears in her mind.

And secondly, I think you hit it on the nail there. What does she want? I don’t think Don is the only person who doesn’t know who he is.

Did someone say lung cancer?

August: But does she even want her own husband?

But back to Roger and his old flame. I like that he’s “the one” and she’s, well, jut not. And I love the way Roger puts it, the segue from his first wife to his much younger second wife: There wasn’t much of a window, they kind of overlapped. What a gentleman you are, Roger. At least you don’t lie… much. And how noble you are, you aren’t going to cheat on your wife… much. At least not this time.

Marco: Well, at first, I think he was remaining faithful, as best as Roger can, to Jane rather than resuming things with his old squeeze, the horsemeat peddler, and I think that says a lot about Roger as a man desperate to reclaim a sense of youth, a sense of being hip and interesting.

But then, of course, it’s the curvy redhead elephant in any and all rooms: Joan. For Roger, she’s “the one.”

Real Talk is the name of the game, baby.

August: I just hate how much he doesn’t impress me anymore.

Marco: Really? The way he describes Joan to prospective new employers for her, plus offering to help finish off the bottle (that’s the Roger Sterling I like: total alcoholic), and “You walked around like you were hoping to be a character in someone else’s novel.”

Paris, baby. We will always have it, k?

Casablanca is fitting for the mindset of the men of Mad Men, that they’re perpetually carrying on after having lost something special, that their suffering is noble. But I love that Roger puts his own personal suffering, along with his ex-flame’s pining, into real perspective: “That woman got on a plane with a man who was going to end World War II, not run her father’s dog food company.” That alone impressed me about Roger, a man who life straight out of The Sun Also Rises would be perfect, especially for a show about a Hemingway-esque character such as Don Draper. Call it the Clinton effect, if you will.

That, and the fact that for the most part, Roger was painfully kind in his letting the woman down. And that’s what made it all that much more mean, almost taunting. And wonderful.

I can explain.

August: And then finally, CONFRONTATION TIME! Thank God.

Marco: This show is brilliant with how it plays with our expectations, so manipulative. Don’s got his dish on the side out in the car! And Betty’s all like, “Get your hat later. We need to talk.”

We need to talk.

August: That scene, the confrontation at the kitchen table, was so good, so potent.

Showdown in the kitchen.

Marco: “All this time I thought you were some football hero who hated his father.” For a moment I had to wonder if Betty was finally seeing Don clearly or just seeing herself more opaquely.

August: That scene was so good, the tension so palpable that… for a moment I could almost taste it.

Marco: Yeah, really, you’re right in that moment. I loved Don’s old tricks, the “let me get a drink,” etc. and his inability to really be himself, to properly pour his drink. “I can explain,” Don tells her, his eyes betraying the fact that his wheels are already spinning at full, stunned speed. And Betty is finally on point: “Oh, I know, I know you can. You’re a very, very gifted storyteller.” Don Draper’s writing a bad Hemingway tome and using his life as the ink and maybe just for a moment there, Betty’s onto it.

Bratty though she may be, and may always be, Betty’s slowly becoming a person this year, and it’s both perfect and sad that she no more fully comes into herself than when playing the surgeon who’s taking apart her husband’s long string of lies.

August: And it all pours out. The words, the moment, the scene clearly hurts Don Draper so much that it physically hurts me to watch it.

Marco: In a good way though, right?

August: In a great way! In such a compromising situation, every breath between his words is making my heart skip. We’ve known Donald Francis Draper for such a long time, or, at least the Don that he wants us to know, and it’s so unusual to see him so defensive.

Thats my desk. Thats private.

Marco: But amazing to take in. Don hasn’t been this undone since when Pete found him out in season 1. It’s amazing how Dick Whitman will always be the thread that pulls apart the full Don Draper tapestry.

And honestly, Jon Hamm’s hands seriously deserve the same high praise that I think Tom Hanks’ hands never got for Saving Private Ryan.

August: All I could think of when watching that scene was that he was going to leave. That he had to.

Marco: The cry of the baby and fade into commercials gave him a good enough distraction, but he didn’t take it.

August: It isn’t just that I thought he would run out, it’s that I actually wanted him to do so. It’s honestly what I would have done.

Marco: I loved that he just seemed to completely forget about Miss Farrell in the car. I almost didn’t want that cutaway back to her in the car, I wanted the show to leave us hanging and guessing for a few scenes/minutes.

But again, I have to say, Miss Farrell just took it way too easily. But perhaps she’s truly as much a realist as she is a romantic. The look on Don’s face as he told her to cool it, I think was perfect. Not so much perfect, but… probably exactly what Don wants out of every one of these flings.

The cock and the telephone are major motifs this year.

August: How so?

Marco: I don’t think Don just cheats on his wife. He’s a serial philanderer, definitely, but he’s also a storyteller and I think with each new girlfriend he’s creating a new process. A new excitement, a new running away from his life and responsibilities, but that he ultimately wants it to end with another notch of regret on his belt. He wants to have that pained look on his face as he does bad again…

Mr. Telephone Line.

August: Interesting you put it that way. I can’t wait to see each and every new scene with Joan and Greg…

Could Joan look any unhappier than she does here?

Marco: Dr. Don McRaper.

August: … It’s just wonderful to me how young and stupid he is. Of course he failed out of psychology.

Marco: “It’s not even medicine!”

August: His psychology is so fucked up. Such a man. And yet it’s like men haven’t changed a bit.

These would be so awesome, but so distracting too.from here.

Marco: Every man wishes that his flaws and darkness were deep and interesting and exciting. That they had meaning and purpose and that each was a strength, something worthy of making a TV show about. Or worthy of an ex-pat sitting in a cafe in Paris to write about. We’re flawed, sad, tender creatures at times, and yet, despite how full of ourselves we are, I think we have to flirt with that darkness just a little. Hopefully it gives us perspective and a little illumination.

Of all the gin joints and dog food companies in the world, Rick, why did she have to walk into yours?

Which brings us back to the notion of trick or treat and All Hallow’s Eve. Beyond my desire to Dr. McRape die in the muck, I still have to worry what the future has in store for little Sally and Bobby Draper, with the guidance they’re being given, the idea of family they’re being shown. I mean, this is a world where Minnie Mouse and the astronaut can end up as the gypsy and the hobo.

Minnie Mouse and the astronaut.

August: I hate this segment in Don’s life. I’m sure it happens quite often though. The record hits the end, it gets flipped back over, and the song starts over again, the pattern resumes anew: and Don resorts back to the family man.

Marco: I think that’s one name you could put on Don Draper/Dick Whitman. But maybe it’s been poisoned, and while a new one that can possibly stick may not be easy to find, it’s just “a label on a can.”

The hobo and the gypsy.

August: And I just have to ask…

Marco: You have to love how the realistic little accidents in life fit so seamlessly into the show’s narrative in that the neighbor could perfectly sum up this time in another man’s life with…

Trick or treat.

August: And who are you supposed to be?

Memento Mori.

Spooky!

Donnn’tttt forgeetttt: Halloween is just a week away.

Girl, Skeleton, Mask.

What is everyone’s plans for All Hallow’s Eve? How drunk are you going to get?

Girls and skull

And what kind of costume will you be wearing when you get that drunk?

That Great Pumpkin is a bit of a tease, if you ask me.

And since Counterforce tends to skew towards movies a little heavier than other things perhaps, what are you favorite scary movies?

You should totally party with those girls, Danny. They look legit.

The reader is warned in advance not to believe what he is about to read.

Big Blue PKD can see you.from here.

In my writing I got so interested in fakes that I finally came up with the concept of fake fakes. For example, in Disneyland there are fake birds worked by electric motors which emit caws and shrieks as you pass by them. Suppose some night all of us sneaked into the park with real birds and substituted them for the artificial ones. Imagine the horror the Disneyland officials would feel when they discovered the cruel hoax. Real birds! And perhaps someday even real hippos and lions. Consternation. The park being cunningly transmuted from the unreal to the real, by sinister forces. For instance, suppose the Matterhorn turned into a genuine snow-covered mountain? What if the entire place, by a miracle of God’s power and wisdom, was changed, in a moment, in the blink of an eye, into something incorruptible? They would have to close down.

But which is the actual robot?In Plato’s Timaeus, God does not create the universe, as does the Christian God; He simply finds it one day. It is in a state of total chaos. God sets to work to transform the chaos into order. That idea appeals to me, and I have adapted it to fit my own intellectual needs: What if our universe started out as not quite real, a sort of illusion, as the Hindu religion teaches, and God, out of love and kindness for us, is slowly transmuting it, slowly and secretly, into something real?

Existence as entertainment?We would not be aware of this transformation, since we were not aware that our world was an illusion in the first place. This technically is a Gnostic idea. Gnosticism is a religion which embraced Jews, Christians, and pagans for several centuries. I have been accused of holding Gnostic ideas. I guess I do. At one time I would have been burned. But some of their ideas intrigue me. One time, when I was researching Gnosticism in the Britannica, I came across mention of a Gnostic codex called The Unreal God and the Aspects of His Nonexistent Universe, an idea which reduced me to helpless laughter. What kind of person would write about something that he knows doesn’t exist, and how can something that doesn’t exist have aspects? But then I realized that I’d been writing about these matters for over twenty-five years. I guess there is a lot of latitude in what you can say when writing about a topic that does not exist. A friend of mine once published a book called Snakes of Hawaii. A number of libraries wrote him ordering copies. Well, there are no snakes in Hawaii. All the pages of his book were blank.

Gnostic Superparty.

Of course, in science fiction no pretense is made that the worlds described are real. This is why we call it fiction. The reader is warned in advance not to believe what he is about to read. Equally true, the visitors to Disneyland understand that Mr. Toad does not really exist and that the pirates are animated by motors and servo-assist mechanisms, relays and electronic circuits. So no deception is taking place.

We are not alone.

And yet the strange thing is, in some way, some real way, much of what appears under the title “science fiction” is true. It may not be literally true, I suppose. We have not really been invaded by creatures from another star system, as depicted in Close Encounters of the Third Kind. The producers of that film never intended for us to believe it. Or did they?

Alien light show.

And, more important, if they did intend to state this, is it actually true? That is the issue: not, Does the author or producer believe it, but—Is it true? Because, quite by accident, in the pursuit of a good yarn, a science fiction author or producer or scriptwriter might stumble onto the truth… and only later on realize it.

Your reality is currently a mess.

The basic tool for the manipulation of reality is the manipulation of words. If you can control the meaning of words, you can control the people who must use the words. George Orwell made this clear in his novel 1984. But another way to control the minds of people is to control their perceptions. If you can get them to see the world as you do, they will think as you do. Comprehension follows perception. How do you get them to see the reality you see? After all, it is only one reality out of many. Images are a basic constituent: pictures. This is why the power of TV to influence young minds is so staggeringly vast. Words and pictures are synchronized. The possibility of total control of the viewer exists, especially the young viewer. TV viewing is a kind of sleep-learning. An EEG of a person watching TV shows that after about half an hour the brain decides that nothing is happening, and it goes into a hypnoidal twilight state, emitting alpha waves. This is because there is such little eye motion. In addition, much of the information is graphic and therefore passes into the right hemisphere of the brain, rather than being processed by the left, where the conscious personality is located. Recent experiments indicate that much of what we see on the TV screen is received on a subliminal basis. We only imagine that we consciously see what is there. The bulk of the messages elude our attention; literally, after a few hours of TV watching, we do not know what we have seen. Our memories are spurious, like our memories of dreams; the blank are filled in retrospectively. And falsified. We have participated unknowingly in the creation of a spurious reality, and then we have obligingly fed it to ourselves. We have colluded in our own doom.

Lizard Dick.from here.

And—and I say this as a professional fiction writer—the producers, scriptwriters, and directors who create these video/audio worlds do not know how much of their content is true. In other words, they are victims of their own product, along with us. Speaking for myself, I do not know how much of my writing is true, or which parts (if any) are true. This is a potentially lethal situation. We have fiction mimicking truth, and truth mimicking fiction. We have a dangerous overlap, a dangerous blur. And in all probability it is not deliberate. In fact, that is part of the problem. You cannot legislate an author into correctly labeling his product, like a can of pudding whose ingredients are listed on the label… you cannot compel him to declare what part is true and what isn’t if he himself does not know.

The bigger it is, the easier it is to hide.

We want to thank Philip K. Dick, author of The Three Stigmata Of Palmer Eldritch and The Man In The High Castle amongst many other novels, for sticking it to reality and taking time out of his busy afterlife to share with us another excerpt from his 1978 speech “How To Build A Reality That Doesn’t Fall Apart Two Days Later.” It also appears as the introduction to his 1985 short story collection, I Hope I Shall Arrive Soon. The first excerpt he shared with us is here, and…

Literally.…you have to love that PKD fans are called dickheads.

Fake fakes?

For the sake of truth, we can tell you that Mr. Dick will probably return with another excerpt for us in the next few days. But until then…

Adam Gopnik on PKD.

Stanislaw Lem on PKD.

Jonathan Lethem on PKD.

Jonathan Lethem being interviewed about PKD.

PKD on Kurt Vonnegut.



Outta this world girl.

It is full of stars!

Perhaps the coolest link ever posted here: TONE MATRIX.

Favorite headline of the day: Balloon boy’s father ‘wanted TV fame before the world ends in 2012.’ I think he got it.

Solar system’s edge surprises astronomers.

Just the most awesome wolf picture ever.

Though this wolf picture is pretty awesome too.

(though it’s probably not a wolf, but whatever.)

Exciting and voluntary.

40+ lurid, bizarre science fiction dream sequences.

Brett Ratner and the paraplegic sex encounters that are personal to him.

Cop sees aliens at a crop circle.

J.J. Abrams on the coincidences and logical problems of his Star Trek.

Iran and Israel attend secret meeting in Cairo about a nuclear-free middle east.

Space girl watches you masturbate.from here.

Study says: Humans are still evolving.

30 years of Social Distortion.

Your favorite landmarks as planets.

I’m kind of digging the new trailer for The Wolfman remake.

Church denounces African children as witches.

Let’s get a bunch of bees, and a bunch of cocaine, and…

See how few missions to Mars actually succeeded.

I wonder if the Devil Girl from Mars is seeing anyone.

“Do you remember that time when you were the girl from Mars?”

Abusive rabbi to be extradited to Israel.

ESPN and sexual depravity.

WTF is dairy drink?

The trailer for AMC’s remake of The Prisoner.

Hyperreality and The Real.

It leads you here, despite your destination.

Where will NASA send astronauts next?

“She thinks she missed the train from Mars, she’s out back counting stars.”

You could be swingin’ on a star…