“So
I ask, in my writing, What is real? Because unceasingly we are
bombarded with pseudo-realities manufactured by very sophisticated
people using very sophisticated electronic mechanisms. I do not
distrust their motives; I distrust their power. They have a lot of
it. And it is an astonishing power: that of creating whole universes,
universes of the mind. I ought to know. I do the same thing. It is my
job to create universes, as the basis of one novel after another. And
I have to build them in such a way that they do not fall apart two
days later. Or at least that is what my editors hope. However, I will
reveal a secret to you: I like to build universes which do fall
apart. I like to see them come unglued, and I like to see how the
characters in the novels cope with this problem. I have a secret love
of chaos. There should be more of it. Do not believe — and I am
dead serious when I say this — do not assume that order and
stability are always good, in a society or in a universe. The old,
the ossified, must always give way to new life and the birth of new
things. Before the new things can be born the old must perish. This
is a dangerous
realization,
because it tells us that we must eventually part with much of what is
familiar to us. And that hurts. But that is part of the script of
life. Unless we can psychologically accommodate change, we ourselves
begin to die, inwardly.”
R.I.P.
Philip K Dick
16th
December 1928 – 2nd March 1982
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