Mereological nihilism and its activists

Mereological nihilism [...] is the position that objects with proper parts do not exist (not only objects in space, but also objects existing in time do not have any temporal parts), and only basic building blocks without parts exist (e.g., electrons, quarks), and thus the world we see and experience full of objects with parts is a product of human misperception (if we could see clearly, we'd not see compositive objects).

(Wikipedia entry for Mereological nihilism)

The Null-Os in Philip K. Dick's eponymous short story could be thought of as active (and enthusiastic!) followers of mereological nihilism:

Null-O is a 1958 science fiction short story by Philip K. Dick. This rather brief story examines the concept of totally unempathic and 'logical' humans. These beings view individual collections of matter, i.e. any object, as subjective structures and see the true state of reality as an 'undifferentiated world of pure energy'. After attaining positions of power they proceed with a plan to ultimately return everything in the universe to this state. This is to be done by the construction of successively more powerful bombs, ultimately resulting in the rather improbable 'U-bomb' that will homogenise the whole universe.

(Wikipedia entry for Null-O)

It's a really wacky story, and not exactly a literary masterpiece I guess, but nevertheless it is among my favorite PKD works. I have already quoted from the story in an older post.

Is "Null-O" a satire of A. E. van Vogt's "The World of Null-A"? Possibly. Dick wasn't very keen of the idea of superpowered, superintelligent, omnicompetent mutants coming to save the day. See also: The Golden Man.

Hubbard, Malzberg, and other things

The blog Sans Everything has a post arguing that science fiction is at its core a religious genre, and establishing a dichotomy beween L. Ron Hubbard, who became a messiah, and Philp K. Dick, who could have done so but chose not to.

Theres's also a post on Barry N. Malzberg. The blog's non-sf related entries are interesting, too.

Dead Brothers

Dick’s early history is at once tormented, hustling, and oddly lit by the bright California sunshine of the late fifties. Born in 1928, he had a twin, a sister named Jane, who died when she was only a month old; like Elvis Presley, who also had a twin sibling who died, Dick seems to have been haunted for the rest of his life by his missing Other.

(Adam Gopnik: Blows Against the Empire)

Another insane/weird genius haunted by a lost brother (although not a twin) was Salvador Dalí:

When he was five, Dalí was taken to his brother's grave and told by his parents that he was his brother's reincarnation,[8] which he came to believe.[9] Of his brother, Dalí said: "… [we] resembled each other like two drops of water, but we had different reflections."[10] He "was probably a first version of myself but conceived too much in the absolute."[11]

(Wikipedia entry on Salvador Dalí)

Vance visto por PKD

Hace unos meses escribí una entrada sobre la percepción que Jack Vance tenía de Philip K. Dick. Pues bien, un pequeño atisbo de la idea que Dick tenía de Vance se puede encontrar en una historia suya, muy menor, titulada La Araña Acuática:

Un hombre fornido y atezado pasó junto a ellos, y Tozzo se dio cuenta de que aquel era Jack Vance. Vance, pensó, parecía más que nada un cazador de caza mayor... tenía que tener cuidado con él. Si tenemos un altercado Vance podría dominarnos fácilmente.

(Philip K. Dick: La Araña Acuática)

When Vance met PKD

There are few writers more different than Jack Vance and Philip K. Dick. Dick's universes are ontological nightmares of shifting realities, populated by hapless neurotics and their controlling spouses. In Vance's work reality is comfortably fixed; it's people who believe weird things. Not a lot of neurotics, either: smooth-talking tricksters with an inflated sense of self-worth are the norm.

Both authors lived in California (although Vance travelled a lot) and met a few times. Vance talked about that in an interview, and it's an interesting one not just for the personality contrast, but also for how it exemplifies Dick's personal evolution:

Look at Phil Dick. Phil Dick, besides being an awfully clever writer, he got the credentials of being crazy- he became big… there was a big clique around him. For my taste, he was too batty, too sarcastic, too sardonic, negative.. and yet, some of his stuff was just insanely funny.. but he was not a person I could relate to, at all..

(John V. : Did you meet him?)

Oh, yeah, sure..

(John V.: Did you know him well?)

Not intimately, but fairly well..

(John V.: Did you meet him at parties, in that way?)

I don’t remember, to tell you the truth.

When I first met him, he was kind of meek, quiet, I didn’t think he was going anywhere… then the last time I saw him, Poul and I were invited over to a party over in Marin county, by some woman, didn’t serve us anything, didn’t even serve wine! Anyway, Phil Dick came storming in there, crazy as a coot, didn’t acknowledge either me or Poul, stomped through, stomped out, did some other things while he was there, I forget what now. That was the last time I saw him.. wearing a cape, big boots, swaggering through… the difference between that guy and the guy that I first knew.. where did I meet him, at Scott Meredith’s office, or Anthony Boucher’s house?.. this quiet, modest, little nondescript fellow.. the difference between that guy, and the guy that came stomping through that party, you know, swaggering, like a big pirate, with a big cloak, big boots, not waving a cutlass at all, but just swaggering through there.. by this time, he had his reputation.. he was on drugs, dope, crazy or something.. He was a clever son of a gun.

Come to think to it, there are two Vance works that could be construed as vaguely Dickian. One is the short story The Men Return, about what happens when Earth enters a period of "non-causality". The other is the psychedelic/paranoid oddity The Brains of Earth (a.k.a Nopalgarth).

Competitive Sports and Moral Theory

Dr. North put his hand on the boy's shoulder. "You can trust me. I'm not like those kids that beat you up, that morning."

Lemuel glanced up gratefully. "You know about that? I discovered the rules of their game were purely arbitrary. Therefore I naturally oriented myself to the basic reality of the situation, and when I came up at bat I hit the pitcher and the catcher over the head. Later I discovered that all human ethics and morals are exactly the same sort of --" He broke off, suddenly afraid. "Maybe I --" Dr. North sat down behind his desk and began shuffling the Rhine ESP deck. "Don't worry, Lem," he said softly. "Everything will be all right. I understand."

(Philip K. Dick: Null-O)