The Longevity of Immaturity

I just finished reading Radio Free Albemuth by Phillip K ... (tee hee)... Dick!


Now if you'd been sitting beside me then you would have witnessed a reversion to my teenage self and subsequent sniggering about the Author's name, as always happens amongst Legion when we discuss this author's works of literature.

Obviously this juvenile amusement at how easily anything can become a smutty turn of phrase has stuck with me for a long time and is firmly embedded as a Pavlovian behaviour of mine that would take an almighty effort of willpower to dislodge from those habitual centres of my brain.


Thankfully I am not alone in my juvenile depravity.
Many's the time at work when Days of our Libraries, Mr Prada, and Ms Magpie will let loose with hugely snigger-worthy comments on simple innocent things uttered by other staff.

For example recently Country Girl purchased a set of blinds from The Pragmatist, and enquired of her, "How do I mount them?"
Naturally my eyebrows shot up and I raised my head to see Mr Prada eyes wide and eyebrows heading roof-wards. Of course this duplicated smuttiness multiplied upon itself and we were both in hysterics for many minutes afterwards - in fact it still brings a sniggery smirk to my face just thinking about it now.

Anyway I digress.

The Dick book itself was a reasonable read, although rather low on the weirdness one expects from a Dick. Apparently it is a first draft published posthumously but does fit in with several of other Dicks in that way that many Dicks are about the same thing.

Tackle it if you are a Dick fan, however others - such as Ubik -are better if it's going to be your first time with a Dick.
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