My first introduction to the world of Paul Bowles, as well as the Sub Rosa record label, was through this disc. The combination of stories read by Bowles himself, as well as the artwork and ambiance by storyteller Mohammed M’Rabet, made it wonderful bedtime listening, allowing me to transport my mind to what a hazy, stoned Tangier must have been like in the 1950s and 60s. This aged very nicely.
“Philip K. Dick and the Fake Humans” is a compelling essay by Henry Farrell published today in The Boston Review. From the essay: This is not the dystopia we were promised. We are not learning to love Big Brother, who lives, if he lives at all, on a cluster of server farms, cooled by environmentally friendly technologies. […]
Our friends at Biblioklept never cease to surprise. The political junkies followed the wrong person into a future oblivion. It was the cyberpunk Philip K. Dick who may have had the right vision all along.
July has been a strange month. The other day I went to the beach and I saw a woman of about thirty, pretty, wearing a black bikini, who was reading standing up. At first I thought she was about to lie down on her towel, but when I looked again she was still standing, and […]
Ning Ken from LitHub documents a new literary genre coming out of China called “chaohuan,” which means ultra-unreal.
Sir Terry Pratchett, fun and pragmatic despite dying from Alzheimer’s Disease to the very end, finally met his end today. He was 66, far too young to leave this mortal coil.