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Stupid thing that happened inside my head: I am reading The Game-Players of Titan, a murder mystery by Philip D. Dick. It is more or less exactly what you'd expect this to be. While immersed in it, the thought occurred to me: Huh, this is like a murder mystery were it written by Philip K. Dick. Um, yeah.
The reason this thought occurred to me is that I believe that I've seen PKD's name invoked a lot in my past few months' worth of media consumption; the film Donnie Darko (which I didn't like much) and the novel Acts of the Apostles (which I kinda liked) both had attached blurbs that compared them to Dick's work, and Waking Life (which I liked a lot) contained a conversation about PKD's Flow my Tears, the Policeman Said. (Which I have read only a little of before misplacing my copy. Fooey.) Add this to the fact that early 2001 saw me devouring novels by Tim Powers, one of Dick's proteges.
Serendipity, since I myself discoered PKD only a three years or so ago, and so probably wouldn't pay attention to references to him before now; or observation of a whole generation of authors and filmmakers coming into maturity after having steeped in his work? Innnteresting.
I have noted before my failure to list any family in my P&X acknowledgements section, but today I realized I didn't list Andy, my friend who introduced me to Perl and got me my first programming job! I'd rather have his name there than Larry Wall's. I feel kind of bad about this. Sigh. Well, I have another ack section only a few months away, don't I.