Ubik

by Philip K. Dick

Jump in the Urinal and Stand on Your Head. I’m the One That’s Alive. You’re All Dead.

‘You’re nothing but a minor bureaucrat in a vast machine. You’re a function of an impersonal cultural totality. You have no standards of your own. In the twentieth century men had personal standards of workmanship. Artistic craft. Pride of accomplishment. These words mean nothing to you. You have no soul—another concept from the golden days of the twentieth century when men were free and could speak their minds.’