“In me somewhere, he thought, there is a matrix fitted in place, a grid screen that cuts me off from certain thoughts, certain actions. And forces me into others. I am not free. I never was…”
Yeah, I’ve jumped into fiction. Science-fiction. That one was from Philip Dick’s novel “Electric Ant”. After Androids I’m now continuing with his novel collections. I refound Dick after browsing through the early production of Hunter and Tom Wolfe. America in its craziest. 60s, hippies, junkies, electric kool-aid acid tests with all their colors. This art is well-written, clear and most of all: inspiring! Me being in this conservative family-man set-up. Maybe I should ask like Deckard. Who’s an android, after all, with a 4-year life expectancy?
“What I want, he realized, is ultimate and absolute reality, for one micro-second. After that it doesn’t matter, because all will be known; nothing will be left to understand or see… I will prick new punch-holes in the tape and see what presently emerges. It will be interesting because I will not know what the holes I make mean.”