I'm still finishing Philip K. Dick's "Valis" (having started it on vacation), which frequently tries to throw me like a prize bronco. I couldn't make it three chapters in the last time I attempted reading it, back in '92, which was probably five or six years too early for me to be making the attempt. By '98, I was tossing back acid and reading books on gnosticism for fun. Too bad I didn't take the advice of friends and read it then.
Now it's a decade since those days and my jaded interest in Christianity has largely faded away, so I'm probably just as out of touch with the subject matter as I was when I first tried. Still, while I'm not enjoying it as much as "The Transmigration of Timothy Archer" or "Radio Free Albemuth," I am liking some of it, particularly the Roeg-esque sci-fi movie they go to see in the middle. I just wish (as I always do when reading Dick) that he wasn't so down on rock music.