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Machines devouring parts, which distort pockets or are lacking ..., add excess on all the supports the eyes meet. One has to break the feet of Philip K Dick damn - and damn well avenged him. The story continually evolves past and present of an earlier future, which does not lack an old-fashioned charm. With a tender gaze, I always read what SF authors of the "utopian" years 60 and 70 imagined in the next 30 or 40 years. The conquest of space opened up "supra-terrestrial" horizons. Alas, the Moon offering only its "stones," the two "giants" of the time, preferred to continue fighting here below ... and the cars still do not fly, and we do not even eat pills (the good of that I do not complain...) Philip K Dick's "ballad" us in this nightmare. What we are experiencing is this natural or "implanted." This novel has inspired other stories but is in a delicious early juice.