A Little Time Travel Goes a Long Way (Or Something Like That)

If Philip K. Dick had failed to represent the true confusion of hallucinogenic drugs and the reality/unreality dichotomy in any of his other works, those very ideas are firmly planted within Lies, Inc. Not only is there direct mention of an LSD trip—and it should be noted that it is forced upon Applebaum, rather than being a choice—but the novel lends itself to utter confusion by presenting a narrative structure that folds in upon itself like a confusing time paradox. Perhaps looking at the Terminator films and trying to contemplate—without having one’s head explode—the endless time dilation created by the father of John Conner somehow managing to go back in time and take part in the conception of the “hero of Mankind” would give us some understanding of the confusing and illusive nature of this novel. How exactly can Applebaum exist in Terran space—on his ship, the Omphalos—and yet still manage to take a Telpor trip across light-years of empty space to Whale’s Mouth? The confusing part is that the idea of time travel is so vaguely represented that the audience is left wondering that very question without a true answer. Unlike the Terminator films, the book doesn’t hinge on the time travel idea; time travel is all but nonexistent, with a single mention of a device given to Applebaum that vaguely refers to time, but is never made exactly clear. In fact, Applebaum cuts off the UN official before said official can finish his sentence—“It’s a time-warping construct that sets up a field which coagulates the…” (193). We’re left to wonder what that exactly means. How does it warp time? To warp something can mean a variety of things. Shall we go through the different connotations? I think so: Firstly it can mean to bend or twist time out of shape. If we think of time as a flat line, this would mean bending it so it becomes a curve. But what does this mean for time? I haven’t a clue. This is all theoretical—the idea of bending time, or, for that matter, dealing with time in any other way than its linear form is simply unapproachable for someone, like myself, who lacks the scientific knowledge as those who make a living researching such things. Then there is the idea of bending or turning time from its natural or true direction. This might make more sense, since, in theory, Applebaum is existing in two places at once, but the prior place (which happens while he is out in space on the Omphalos) is the true timeline ending where his return to Terra (Earth) involves his manipulating time to somehow prevent Holm from getting caught up in the lie that is Whale’s Mouth—that it’s a peaceful, loving place that everyone wants to go to, a theme very close to Dick (false advertisement). But by looking at it this way also means we’re left with a blindingly confusing paradox. We know by the end of the novel that everything he has done while fiddling with time results in absolutely nothing changing (except that he somehow gets stuck on Whale’s Mouth with a strange condition that gives him permanent hallucinations). But, wouldn’t Applebaum, in theory, become aware of the fact that he is on Whale’s Mouth? Or is that information hidden? This is probably why time travel novels these days are generally avoided. The confusion created by trying to contemplate how it could possible work without completely discombobulating the framework of linear time is generally too much. After all, how are we supposed to apply logic to the cyclical argument in the Terminator universe? The last way of seeing time is not all that different from the second, except it touches upon the idea of the real and the unreal in relation to the truth. If time can be distorted from the truth, if it can be manipulated in such a way that it no longer represents our understanding of what it is, then it also ceases to exist altogether. Time is constant. Einstein made it clear that we can’t fiddle with it. Time is always moving at the same speed, always moving forward. For one to actually make time no longer itself would be breaking boundaries, much like in the novel. Applebaum is in two places at once, except he’s not. The one going to Whale’s Mouth is a future Applebaum going back in time, while the one on the Omphalos is the present Applebaum, who falls off the map for a short while as we learn about the exploits of Future Applebaum. This is a problem because it simply goes against the truth of things. Future Applebaum isn’t exactly unknown to the folks of Whale’s Mouth, or the Hoffman folks either. In fact, they are well aware that he is going to Whale’s Mouth to stir things up. Yet they also are fully aware that he is supposed to be on the Omphalos. Trying to think about this is simply staggering. He’s in two places at once, manipulating time in one existence while being unaware of it in another, or seemingly unaware. This is why very few people argue with the inherent problem of the Terminator Paradox. To do so spells certain mental breakdown. Perhaps this is why man created religion: it’s a way of forgetting that we don’t know anything at all about the universe and by creating a God that simply exists we don’t, in theory, have to make the inference that there has to have been something that created God, the Universe, and Everything. Certainly the number forty-two fills this same void. Moving beyond the time paradox we get an even stranger taste of reality. Applebaum’s LSD-induced psychotic hallucinations bring out the question of whether or not his trip (no pun intended) was real at all. If his influence there was nonexistent to the Present Applebaum, then it might be possible to assume that he may never have gone there at all. The Telpor could very