ACT (Aesthetically Claimed Thing): A Scanner Darkly, by Philip K. Dick, my favorite novel of all time. Soon to be ruined beyond all repair by Richard Linklater's animated movie. Just found my well-worn Vintage Books trade paperback, hunting through the middens on my desk for the ultrasound clinic's address on Victoria Drive.

Dick wrote his share of hastily conceived and churned-out novels (The Crack in Space; Deus Irae, & etc.), but this heartbreaking book isn't one of them. A year or two ago, I gave a 45 minute talk on Dick at the Emily Carr Institute of Art and Design (sadly unrecorded) as part of a panel on his work. I don't recall much of what I said, but I do remember being more lucid than usual, and claiming that Dick's use of commas was the single most important aspect of his work, with each comma signifying a slight conceptual or ontological shift in the track of a sentence. I still believe that; I learned a lot about language's inherent simplicity by reading Mr. Philip Kindred Dick.

From Scanner, a passage chosen by the random fall of pages:

"The surveillance, he thought, essentially should be maintained. And, if possible, by me. I should always be watching, watching and figuring out, even if I never do anything about what I see; even if I just sit there and observe silently, not seen: that is important, that I as a watcher of all that happens should be at my place.

Not for their sake. For mine.

Yeah, he amended, for theirs too. In case something happens, like when Luckman choked. If someone is watching -- if I am watching -- I can notice and get help. Phone for help. Bring assistance to them right away, the right kind.

Otherwise, he thought, they could die and no one would be the wiser. Know or even fucking care.

In wretched little lives like that, someone must intervene. Or at least mark their sad comings and goings. Mark and if possible permanently record, so they'll be remembered. For a better day, later on, when people will understand."
- posted by cjb @ 9:53 PM