Philip K Dick, somehow, was something of a genius.  I say ’somehow’ because the man slept about once a month and lived on a big ol’ bucket of drugs.  He wrote like a demon and aside from how original his ideas were, you really couldn’t tell that it nearly all came out under the influence.

His writing is crisp, light and very much uncluttered.  It’s an easy ride and it doesn’t feel too clever, though it undeniably is.  I found his short stories incredibly easy to just pick up and put down, engaging when I was reading them but easy to get back into again if the phone rang.

I know a great many Philip K Dick fans slated the film adaption of The Minority Report (whether or not this was for reasons beyond Tom Cruise, I can’t be certain) but frankly, there wasn’t much of a story in the short story, so fair play for milking out a two hour screen adaption.  The world that was created in the story is undeniably present and the story was as twisting and thought-provoking as in the original, so I was pretty happy with it.  There are worse book-to-films out there.  If Watchmen is one of them next year, there will be a lynching no doubt, but they’re out there.

Hmm.  Clearly I’ve come down with some mild form of ADHD during this review.  Ooh look, a magpie.

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