Many of Philip’s works incorporate a kind of phantom twin. Sadly, only six weeks following her birth, Jane, Philip’s twin sister passed away. Philip’s parents were Dorothy Edgar Dick and Joseph Edgar Dick, a man that worked for the US Department of Agriculture. The two were born a whopping six weeks prematurely. There are girls like that, he thought, and those you love the most, the ones where there is no hope because it has eluded you at the very moment you close your hands around it.Philip was born as a twin with a sister Jane Charlotte Dick. Nowhere on the printed page, nowhere in the annals of man, would her name appear: no local habitation, no name. (…) To seek to find her or possess her (…) To love an atmospheric spirit. Because she was not there in the first place. (…) You ask yourself, where is she now? And the answer is - Nowhere. Without ever having gotten a good grip on it - on the girl itself. (…) A phantom of authority, a kind of hologram, through which a normal man could walk, and emerge on the far side, alone. To mix with the everyone-else people that never cease to be. Vanished like fire or air, an element of the earth back into the earth. (…) There she was, stable and as if forever then - nothing. Vanished away into the hither-and-thither-going people.
That way we won't even have to go outside.” How the land became plastic, he thought, remembering the fairy tale "How the Sea Became Salt." Someday, he thought, it'll be mandatory that we all sell the McDonald's hamburger as well as buy it we'll sell it back and forth to each other forever from our living rooms. What there was always more of had been congealed into permanence long ago, as if the automatic factory that cranked out these objects had jammed in the on position. Nothing changed it just spread out farther and farther in the form of neon ooze. Life in Anaheim, California, was a commercial for itself, endlessly replayed. He wondered if it was to the same person. They had by now, according to their sign, sold the same original burger fifty billion times.
And when finally you got hungry and went to the McDonaldburger place and bought a McDonald's hamburger, it was the one they sold you last time and the time before that and so forth, back to before you were born, and in addition bad people-liars-said it was made out of turkey gizzards anyhow. “In Southern California it didn't make any difference anyhow where you went there was always the same McDonaldburger place over and over, like a circular strip that turned past you as you pretended to go somewhere.
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