Rated NC-18: Phillip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep

Rated NC-18 (Nerdy Content from a 18-year old): Phillip K. Dick's Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep

In the world of literature, there is a variety of genres that accompany it, and few get my dopamine levels up more than Science-Fiction. So about a year ago when I found myself without my fix of advanced tech; far-flung futures; and thought provoking philosophies about the present day (or past day if you count earlier texts) I had to make an appointment to see ‘Dr. Phil’.

This Phil to be precise:

The one and only Philip K. Dick.

There are two significant things going about this wonderful visionary. He’s inspired a variety of adaptations under his name; albeit with varying degrees of success, with good ones such as

Minority Report and Total Recall;

and bad ones such as Minority Report and Total Recall.

Another thing about Phillip’s novels is that the names for his literature is more boggling than the work itself. Who could ever not be puzzled by such pragmatic titles such as, um:

Flow my tears the policeman Said? Or...

We Can Remember it for you Wholesale?

However unlike the titles of much of his other texts, this substitutes all that for a simple question: Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep?. Well all I can tell you is that probably the nightmares would have something to do with apples. Oh, we’re not talking about those Androids.

Anyway, smart-aleck commentary aside, on with the review.

The year is 2021, and the aptly named World War Terminus has wiped out numerous animal species and has rendered the planet uninhabitable, forcing humanity to emigrate off world to colonies, such as Mars. Animals that have survived the ordeal are increasingly hard to find and even when they are found they’re very expensive. So companies have filled this void by creating robotic replicas that are quite close to the real thing; even going so far as to create artificial humans that blur the line between man and machine and every new arrival from Earth is given one. But alas, the government isn’t too trustworthy of these androids and so they have been banned from Earth entirely. Despite this, the androids choose to flee there anyway and that’s where the bounty hunter Rick Deckard comes in to track down the fugitives and *ahem* “retire” them. Can I just point out the ridiculousness of the androids’ decision to move to Earth, because surely nothing beats the likes of the Red Planet more than a barren, near lifeless world where the authorities want your head in a scrap pile and the only thing to do is slowly die of radiation poisoning, push boulders up a hill in “empathy boxes”, or get berated into emigrating by the talk show Buster Friendly and his Friendly Friends (this superfluous nomenclature is brought to you by The Department of Redundancy Department). If this was a different Philip K. Dick text (We Can Remember it for you Wholesale) I would let it slide (last Total Recall reference, I swear).

For the record, since the novel was the influence the awe-inspiring Blade Runner film, it’s safe to say this has a lot going for it. The plot is one of the sharpest knives in the drawer as there are many twists and turns and a captivating neo-noir tale that will have you on the edge of your seat to keep it from getting dull. Dick’s writing that captivates the bleak and surreal world in such exquisite detail and only makes the story even better. The characters are dynamic and entertaining, with one notable example being Rick Deckard himself as he’s more than just this flat, macho action hero. Stuff like the questions he has about the ethicality about his career makes him look more human than the machines he hunts down. And speaking of questions there’s also a lot of philosophical depth to this text to spruce it up as well. The only weaknesses that this text has is an anticlimactic finale and some slow pacing but that does little to blemish the wool so to speak. If you were to find this in a bookstore, do give this a shot because if you do it won’t be just the androids who’ll be sweetly dreaming of electric sheep.

My Grade: A Nexus-6 out of 7 (because you know, that’s the type of android in the novel)

Rated NC-18: John Wyndham's Day of the Triffids

Rated NC-18 (Nerdy Content from an 18-year-old): John Wyndham's Day of the Triffids

“Looks can be deceiving.”

- Some random dunce with too much free time

When it comes to pop culture we only expect one thing from our entertainment overlords: nothing but the best. We look for star-studded casts in films and television, Game Of The Year awards for video games, mentions of the New York Times Bestseller list for literature. However, once in awhile, you come across a work of fiction that makes you go “You’re kidding me, right”, only to find out after experiencing it that it doesn’t fall flat on its face. That’s where I introduce the acclaimed British author John Wyndham. He has a knack, that, despite the fact that some of his works often concern outlandish plots, premises, and settings, (such as a killer sea monster (The Kraken Wakes); and killer children (The Midwich Cuckoos)), he creates literature that can really knock the Wyndham out of you (*cricket chirps in the background* I’m sorry). But alas, those are books for other posts. The one that’s presented here is his magnum opus: Day of the Triffids, or basically the one that stars killer plants.

A spectacular meteor shower occurred while the protagonist, Bill Masen, was slumbering and the end result is that almost all of humanity was blinded as a result (with a few exceptions of course). Ironically Bill was recovering from sightlessness himself after he was blinded with triffid venom. Also, I just want to point out that the story begins with a classic apocalyptic fiction trope: the “I’ve woken up to find out the whole world has ended during my sleep”, something that’s been seen in equally horrifying dystopias such as the tv show The Walking Dead. Both have you haplessly groping about, but at least in one scenario, you’re already dead. Soon after the opening, the novel explains how the triffids came to play. Apparently, it was much suspected to be some sort of Soviet experiment and was accidentally spread across the face of the earth (“Oh, those Russians” -Boney M.). However they weren’t exterminated because it was soon discovered that triffid oil was a valuable commodity, but they were still kept in check…

...until the incident that was the freak meteor shower. And so poor, poor Masen has to learn to adapt to this drastically changed world; having to handle man-eating plants and the occasional group of looney human beings.

Now you're probably wondering how a premise so surreal can possibly be any good. What distinguishes it from the typical over-the-top B-Movie crap fests, is that instead of focusing on the mindless carnage, the whole carnage and nothing but the carnage, this text actually has a lot of depth to it. Thought-provoking questions are raised throughout such as: What kind of government should society have to live in these circumstances?; Does law and order still apply in a new world like this?; Is it a crime or a mercy to not save the countless amount of sightless people wandering about? The kind of elements that don’t leave a movie confined to the forsaken, backwater shelves at HMV. The plot and pacing are good as well, slowly revealing the world around the protagonist, and the moments of exhilaration where he confronts the triffids does wonders to balance out the thoughtful social commentary. One of my favourite scenes is when the Masen and a group of other survivors are left to continue off with daily life while triffids peer in through a large wire fence patiently waiting for the perfect opportunity. It reminds me of the kind of events that you see on Black Friday except the all the self-indulgent, narrow-minded shoppers have been replaced with 12-foot tall killing machines and the meat that on sale is well… you. However there are some rough edges throughout the text, most particularly the other characters feel a bit two-dimensional: such the timid melodramatic lover; the authoritarian wannabe; and so on. But regardless of all that, it still makes John Wyndham worthy of being called the “H.G. Wells of the 20th Century”.

My Grade: Three Blind Mice of out Four

NC-18: Stephen King’s IT

NC-18 (Nerdy Content from an 18-year-old): Stephen King’s IT

Ah, yes I remember it was late in the year when the halloween season was up and about. It was when I was eagerly searching for a novel to get myself in the right mood for the season. But my efforts were fruitless and so I slipped into the depths of melancholy finding that the burst of taste bud euphoria that came from the collection of sweets that received during trick ‘or treating could not alleviate myself. But then I received an email with the simple phrase “IT has arrived!” And so I rushed home and out of that dull cardboard amazon box arose my glorious novel. What was “IT” exactly? Smug devil Stephen King’s very own well... It. Inspired by the atmosphere that comes from All Hallow’s Eve, and the repeated incidents of pretentious teenagers scaring kids (and adults) with clown outfits I took it upon myself to read this cute little freak of nature. A text that chronicles the adventures of seven innocent people in their childhood and later adulthood. The novel tells of their quest to vanquish an ancient evil that dwells within their town that is devouring every child it comes across: the eponymous being simply called “It” that usually takes the form a clown. Yeah, good luck trying to hunt in this day and age, I mean we’ve practically turned coulrophobia into an art form. I think some of you less sober people are just dying to make a drinking game out of this book for every time the word it is mentioned. I don’t necessarily advise since this book is over *with the voice of Dr. Evil from Austin Powers* one-thouuusand pages. If you’re planning on indulging liqueur while reading this, you’ve got a lot to flip through, and you can’t do it if you’re dead and/or in rehab. Now, on with the review.

This tale begins with an innocent child (who just so happens to be the little brother to one of the main characters) merrily watching his paper boat travel down the sidewalk on a rain-soaked day, but tragedy strikes as his boat rushes to a nearby sewer opening and falls in. Sadly that’s not the only tragedy that happened on that day. As he’s hopelessly searching for his precious boat, something appears from inside the darkness: a clown. He Introduces himself as Pennywise, and then the clown offers to hand him his boat back (and balloon to go with it). And of course, the poor naive fool then reaches past the grate and predictably meets an untimely end.

OK, can we analyze the major problems with this course of action:

a.) Clown

b.) He’s talking to you from a frickin’ sewer (and his best excuse for this odd location is: “the storm blew the whole circus away”)

c.) is for clown

d.) Stranger Danger (who’s also offering you dubious goods)

e.) Clown

f.) CLOWN!!!

g.) HE’S A HOOVER DAM CLOWN!!!!!!

And to add to d.)  just because you know his name doesn’t make him any less dangerous. If some kleptomaniac broke into your house; cornered you in your bedroom with a switchblade in hand; and then introduced himself as Harold, that doesn’t make your situation any more reassuring now doesn’t it. Regardless, I think this is a great opening to our tale. Whereas some fiction takes a while before anything of intrigue happens, this text just cuts to the chase. A little dash of character introduction and exposition later, all the sudden BOOM, bloody murder. Heck, I think this should be the new standard for all fiction; “Hey, wanna read some Jane Austen? Duh duh dunnnn”. Much later in the story, six particular people start to receive an ominous phone call from an old friend telling of the return of the malevolent entity they fought together as pre-teens in a group called the Loser’s Club (that’s some botched advertising right there, I mean you wouldn’t invest in a company called Bankruptcy Incorporated). Anyway, it (see what I did there) has returned to prey on the children of their childhood town, and that they must return to surcease the carnage once and for all. Will the monster be bested, or will it feed?

This text oft considered as one of his best works, and boy I see where they were going with it. The plot is enthralling as it can get but to me, the most striking thing about this is how it’s presented. The story is not just presented as in a straightforward manner like other stories. There are three timelines presented here: the 1957 timeline that chronicles the all the character’s childhoods; the Interlude that tells of one of the members - Mike Hanlon - as he’s confronted with the decision whether or not to bring the gang back together to face the monster; and the 1985 timeline which deals with the second confrontation between the Loser’s Club and It. The story is just beautifully connected and flows perfectly like canola oil on tinfoil. Characters are quirky and fun to read about, and not to mention relatable since they aren’t invincible macho men; they’re just average people. And it’s just one of those books with so much delicious imagery and great attention to deal that the imagination just flares up with colour and sheer beauty! However it’s insane attention to detail can get a bit overboard, as I sometimes came across events like one where the story would point out the contents of a medicine cabinet down to the last bottle. Yeah, this is why I take away time from shoveling my walks: to look at what some dunce has in his frickin’ medicine cabinet. Last but not least is that it rightfully deserve the label of horror whereas instead of just jumping at you, it keeps you in that uneasy tension that something is about to go wrong, and before you know it, the terror escalates. In fact, it’s so scary that the smug dipstick who wrote this has ruined a few things for me; stuff that I’ll never look at the same, and so starting now, for every King novel I’m going to keep a casualty list of everyday things that he’s ruined for me.

1. Clowns

2. Sewer systems

3. Balloons

4. Abandoned Houses

5. The word float and its derivatives

But in spite of all that, you know what… I love it all!

My Grade: Six adorkable kids out of Seven

NC-17: William Golding's Lord of the Flies

You ever had one of those days where you thought “humanity is scum.” That you just want to taunt every homo sapien straight to their conceited face. There are numerous cynics out there that look upon humanity with sheer hopelessness and whenever in public go out with a T-shirt with arrows pointing all around saying “I’m with stupid.” And then some…

And by some I mean this dipstick.

This is William Golding and this is his (un)godly offspring to the world…

Lord of the Flies is an interesting novel. It serves as a political allegory on humanity’s savage instincts using children stranded on a desert island.  Looking back on it now I find myself shouting “SHUT IT GOLDING, YOU’RE MAKING THOMAS HOBBES LOOK LIKE A KINDERGARTEN TEACHER!!!” Geez, so little faith in humanity. I mean what more can I say times were turbulent, I mean he fought in a world war and experiencing the thrill ride that was Cold War Paranoia. As you can see by the cover about, you can just tell it ends up going just splendidly.

It begins with the crash of an aircraft filled with dozens of children, all of them small boys ( and thank goodness or this text would’ve been even darker) on a desert island. They were flying not because they were on an innocent field trip, ha ha ha NO!!!! It was because NUCLEAR WAR HAS BROKEN OUT!! But don’t worry, this is only the beginning Anyway, the main character Ralph sets out rounding up the survivors; calls an assembly, and gets himself voted leader almost unanimously. The key word is almost as his rival Jack demands he be appointed as leader. So he offered the job of getting a band together and looking for food while Ralph and others concentrate on building a fire to attract ships. But conflict soon arises between the two rescue and survival and Jack goes insane after he decorates his face with some paint and looks at his reflection in the water. It’s like the Joker’s origin in the 1989 Batman film, except in this case the guy is only like TWELVE!!! But it doesn’t hinder his ability to win over the crowd and soon the guys are going around having wild dances and when that’s not happening murder sows for sport. HEAVEN AL-MIGH-TY!!! Just tragic if I’m honest.

But to once more, to be honest it’s not like this Maze Runner-ish “utopia” was going to last long. I mean have you seen kids in school? They’re a few senile geezers away from creating something that would widen the smile on the Guy Fawkes guy’s mask from V for Vendetta. What would you expect? Congress? Actually, I guess they not much different since everyone there acts like a bunch of children. Ha ha ha, I’m I right? Can someone give me a high five?

This book is great for a number of reasons: from an ambient setting, great writing and characters that I’m actually fond of and get to connect with. But I and a lot of other voracious readers think that what really seals it, is the theme concerning the folly of human nature and the primal nature of man. It’s striking, it’s self-reflecting, it’s poignant and it just pulls you right into the debate of our own being. The whole thing: it’s just an allegory for our childish tendencies to throw people and civility under the bus in the name of personal gain. We’re nothing but dumb juveniles, just like the ones in the book, dumb, selfish, pigs slaying juveniles (oh, we kill innocent porcine alright, it’s just that most of the time we let others do it for us. If you say “I don’t because I don’t eat meat, well you can still just go die in a hole.) All of this begs to ask the question: “Was Heath Ledger in The Dark Knight  actually onto something, what if he really is just “ahead of the curve so to speak”

My grade: eight skewered sows out of ten.

EPL opportunity

The library is a wonderful place filled with an assortment of page flippers for a cost of nil, including literature, comics, short stories, non-fiction, etc. But you know what else is also non-fiction besides the thousands of books? MY NEW JOB OPPORTUNITY!!!!

You heard that correctly. Weeks ago I just acquired a job at the library. And sure it’s only as of now, shelving books, customer assistance, and tidying up shelves, but let me tell you it’s quite an experience. The duties can be routine and some may find them mundane, but for me it’s a wonderful way to obsess about the dewey decimal system!  The best part is that it pays a lot better than doing work at my house...

...for free (shudder).

I put a lot of hard work into this and in a world of constant competition where the job market, like many areas of life, is basically the wild west . Getting a job can be a difficult process. But when you get it right, when the stars align in your favour, when you read the right tarot cards, when that creepy old lady at the far corner of the carnival stares into that crystal ball and sees your good fortunes, you’ve just opened a whole new level of access to a whole assortment to talents and wealth! That is until you have to ship your sorry rear end off to university to get a ‘real job’ (bloody intellectuals).

In light of my new job I’ve just recently just got the best thing a teenager could get...

A driver’s license, you think? Oh I wish, but, I got something even better: a frickin’ debit card!!

There’s a new dawn on the horizon for me...

AND IT’S CALLED ADULTHOOD!!!!

NC-17 (Nerdy Content From a 17 year old): Bram Stocker's Dracula

The world of horror literature is filled with terrifying fantastical creatures from zombies to werewolves to malignant tentacle-faced Gods. Vampires are no exception, and with that, there is a whole ocean of vampire fiction to choose from.

Some are good...

Some are Fantastic!!

and the others are...

a punching bag for the internet

So, in the eternal pursuit of ecstasy and to avoid the ridicule of quarter-witted teenagers and young adults, (get it? because it’s less than half) you need to go far back.

No, further.

NOT THAT FAR!!!

Yes, that's the one.

Like many other milestones of their genres, Dracula wasn’t the first vampire novel; it was the first one that mattered. Back in the good ol’ days vampires weren’t these farcical, chiseled, romantic figures, but rather they were nothing more than THE DISCIPLES OF PERDITION!! But after a hundred and twenty-eight years does this gold fleck in a giant pan of mud stand up? Well, "Off we go into the wild blue yonder" as the American Air Force says.

Our tale begins with a humble man by the name of Jonathan Harker traversing the Romanian landscape to meet our titular blood-sucker in his own castle. For what reason you may ask? FLIPPIN’ REAL ESTATE IN ENGLAND. As negotiations are progressing Harker starts to notice some funny things about his client. He never meets in daylight, has no reflection and an uncanny attraction to blood. Also, he can climb walls like a gecko as if the last three weren’t strange or scary enough. After an encounter with the Count’s *ahem* sisters, he makes preparations to make a one way trip to Screwthatistan and high tail out of there, just barely making it out. If I were him I would’ve just dashed out there shouting YOU’LL NEVER HAVE ME ALIVE...

OR DEAD FOR THAT MATTER!!!!

But Harker’s relief is short lived as a few chapters later the Count is traversing towards England and upon his arrival --seeing how he’s basically Satan’s poker buddy-- it’s not long before fecal matter hits the ceiling fan (not that they had them back then anyway).

What follows is a story our heroes will never forget.

Now surrounding this age old tale is an important question that applies to the entire genre of horror:

...is it scary??

No...

This thing is SPINE-CHILLING, people of the internet, even after almost a hundred and thirty years it still managed to unsettle me significantly. The bleak environment of late Victorian England and the very character of the Count himself only spikes up the tension. It is here where many essential elements of vampire lore came to place such as shape-shifting, a weakness to sunlight, being allergic to crosses, and having a command over the vermin of the world such as rats, bats, wolves and occasionally a few unlucky gypsies. Which only makes me wonder how he even recruited them in the first place??

WANTED

Able-bodied men, with unwavering loyalty, and a proficiency in knife-fighting and carrying heavy loads.

If interested please register on the creepy, lone castle in the Carpathian mountains (you’ll know it when you see it)

P.S. make sure you’re not followed.

Try getting that into the classified section.

Speaking of character, or character development and the protagonists in general. Twists and turns were fraught throughout the story and, like the previous text, I genuinely cared about the main characters. My personal favourite was Abraham Van Helsing with a charismatic personality and an attitude that could make hell sing; (ha, ha, ha, I’m sorry). But what’s also interesting is that although it is a first person point of view, you witness the story from multiple journal entries, diary pages, newspapers, a captain’s log, and even telegrams (it’s like texting in the 19th and 20th centuries except it didn’t utterly ravage the English language).

All in all, if you’ve got the time and money, you should definitely pick this up.

My score: Straight A (it would have A + but the blood bank was... out of... I’ll shut up.)

Travel Diary Thailand: Bangkok

Why bother apologising, you already get the gig. This is the first part of what’s to come hopefully this month. A riveting account of my time in Thailand.

Enjoy!

Chapter 1: Bangkok

Dear diary,

After 19+ long hours we finally arrived our destination. It feels so good to be back over half a decade. Even after a coup the place is still magnificent as ever. The next several days were fraught with adventures and day one was no exception; starting off our journey trekking through the brisk 2-and-a-quarter-world morning air after a filling breakfast. One of our main attractions was the Jim Thompson store that sells fine silk furniture, decor, and clothing. I'm not usually a fan of places like these, but here this is the exception. Worth mentioning is that the founder of the company mysteriously vanished back in the sixties. Come on, he probably just came across a nice lady, ditched the company, secretly married and retired to Caribbean; happens all the time.

But the main highlight of the day was the snake just a 30 feet away from the store. Nothing more than admiring the numerous species to be found and seeing a snake show later on. It was daunting to see than handlers practically spit in the reaper's face and just taunt the kraits and cobras presented. But the best was holding the python at the end. The farm is also the best place to get bit as it also contains a hospital and a WHO research center for snake bites .

Not that you want to get bit anyway, I mean who would this appeal to: zealous snake enthusiasts; suicidal idiots; self masochists; would you do it? NO, YOU WOULDN'T BECAUSE YOU'RE NOT BLOODY STUPID!! Still the place was a lot of fun. Too bad there isn't a medicine for getting squeezed to death by the constrictors. Speaking of they release these things into the streets, I'm sure they do wonders about the stray dog problem.

The nothing of interest the following day but the next one was dare I say more riveting. The day begun with a filling trip to the food court; and a pleasant boat ride (shame about the river). One of our main attractions was the luxurious visual ecstasy that was the Great Palace. The buildings were a joy to explore and the artwork decorating it was even more so.

I also got to learn a shred of thai customs as well. A prominent one was why people are told to kneel not sit when inside the buddhist temples: because apparently showing someone or pointing your feet is the equivalent of a middle finger. So you know how some people would stand leaning on something, one foot completely on the ground and one with the base of the shoe showing; that is the western equivalent of holding a sign that says “*bleep* you”.

Just as interesting was the tour down the canal. Now there was plenty of sightseeing to be had, but the main attraction wasn’t the architecture, but the wildlife that’s found in and alongside the river,  most namely monitor lizards and catfish. I must say they must have pretty broad niches for surviving in places like this (see, I have learned something over the school year). Everything was just swell about our adventure, except for the rancid smell and getting splashed by the catfish. What’s in this 2 and a 1/2 world water? Typhoid? Cholera? I probably got a disease now.