Ubik, by Philip K. Dick

an aerosol spray can labeled Ubik with a pink spray coming out of it

Philip K. Dick is an influential science fiction writer. Many of his stories have become films including Blade Runner (1982), Total Recall (1990) and (2012), Minority Report (2002), and A Scanner Darkly (2006).

Each chapter of the novel begins with a promotional paragraph for Ubik. Those paragraphs act as a mood-set for the chapter. Ubik seems like some surreal perfecting substance. Later, Ubik appears to be an antique, useless, patent medicine but eventually Ubik becomes something modern and real.

In the imagined world of 1992, everything is a vending machine. It takes coins to wash your dishes, to take a shower or even to leave one’s home. Joe is skilled at rating the level of candidate’s parapsychological powers but not at managing his money. He has the talent of being able to test psychic powers and evaluate candidate’s usefulness to Runciter’s corporation. These employees can help prevent and detect industrial espionage by other psychics. There is cutthroat competition between different protection firms.

During a catastrophic trip to a moon base, Runciter is killed. The survivors prepare his body to return to earth and transport him to a half-life center (where deceased people can be kept, protected from full death, so that they can continue to communicate.)

The broad structure of the book is as a murder mystery. Once half-life is described, it seems that it would make murders easy to decipher by putting the murder victim in half-life and asking them to confirm the killer. However, half-life is not always possible or may not last, so finding evidence is a race against time. The story is a phantasm where time is fluid and the boundary between life and death is faded.

Things begin to dissociate for Joe when Runciter’s face shows on coins and money that Joe has. That money gets rejected by the vending machines. The bizarre occurrences can’t be explained but it doesn’t register with Joe. Once a video at Runciter’s headquarters is directly speaking to Joe as if it were somehow recorded just for him, Joe decides to travel to Runciter’s funeral to meet with the other people who were on the moon trip. Before he can leave, some of his coworkers die strangely. Joe heads to the funeral to confer with his coworkers and learn what is actually happening.

As he travels, time appears to rewind to a pre-technological era. What was a modern elevator transform into an antique lift with an attendant and a lattice door. Cigarettes become antiques, modes of transportation devolve and the equipment in Joe’s house transforms into logically-equivalent items from the past. For example, a console radio replaces a TV. One antique variant of Ubik is made with gold flecks which helps him rent a biplane on his journey. (Without explaining what Ubik does/)

I think the book is worth reading because it has some thought provoking puzzles. As you get more and more accurate information about the story, the level of tension keeps ramping up. The transfer of information between half-life and the real world does not follow obvious rules. It starts as just an intercom connecting the almost-dead with the living. As the interaction styles develop more power, the mystery seems solved until everything is turned upside down for a new beginning.

It burns hot

A story from the red book:

an ice cream cone with strawberry ice cream

I say that I am angry, but I should use a more precise word. What is that word?

It burns hot as I run through the hall. I see the apartments rush by. Some doors are open to life shining brightly. Love drifts out in pure laughter. I don’t stop; I urgently push on so that I cannot hear the voices trailing off behind me.

I have been here before, but every time it feels new. One time I left behind a luscious feast. On another, the party was just getting rowdy when my tripwire was triggered. I pride my self-awareness but this pattern is invisible to me. I am alarmed once I stop running but I never go back.

I try to live by the principles of a life in the sunlight. I am kind and willing to help. I walk to the park and laugh at the squirrels. I don’t understand the explosions.

Once I reach home, I search for something to eat. Maybe I will reward myself with some ice cream. I never remember the route I took. I guess it doesn’t matter. It was a safe journey.

No one asks me how I know it is time to go. I get quizzical messages as I flee. What did they do wrong? Why did I have to ruin the celebration? It’s one worry or another. By now, they should realize I will ignore their entreaties.

It has been a long time since I was able to laugh at myself. My breath is a struggle once it starts. If only I would let go of the door. I could be undamaged.

Am I in a loop? What repairs do I need? Instead of my disorder, I could give my regrets when I am invited. I could make an excuse just before I should have arrived. It would be easy. After a few withdrawals, I might stop getting invitations. After that, I might not be aware of what I have done. I might get peevish and isolated. I can erect strong fences of resentment but that won’t fix anything.

I could find someone to blame but it would just be denying the truth: I am my own trouble. I think it would be better if I could admit my quirks. I could make it into a funny story. Calling it a quirk would remove the firing pin. I could say, pardon, I need to take a break and then move into another room. I would find an empty chamber. The hammer would strike a void.

The email account that will not die

a closed envelope

One of my first email accounts was with my internet service provider, SBC Global. The management of the account was transferred to ATT when they merged. When the email service was transferred to Yahoo, I understood that if I didn’t create a paired Yahoo account, the account would be deleted. I didn’t want yet another account, so I let the wait time expire and assumed the account was gone.

Imagine my surprise when I got an email today announcing that that email account would be deleted in about a month if I didn’t log it. I was suspicious of the email but, after checking the information, it seemed legitimate.

Once I went through the gyrations to get a new password on the account, I was able to see 1165 emails that had accumulated over the past 6 1/2 years. There were even a few from just last month. Many were phishing but there were some that were from companies I did business with many years ago.

I added the email address to my Thunderbird email client so that I can know what’s coming in without needing to go to a separate webpage. It’s at the very bottom of the list and I don’t plan to use it for anything beyond canceling sources that are sending to it.

It’s more evidence that even when internet companies say that they have deleted your data, it still might be laying around waiting to resurface.