"What was telling was how quickly my preference in science fiction revealed the displacement: I preferred narratives that obsessed on the fatal hubris of space travel, like Barry Malzberg and J.G. Ballard and Brian Aldiss, or like Philip K. Dick’s story 'A Little Something For Us Tempunauts,' often uncovering a nightmare of eternal return, of Lovecraftian cosmic engulfment and devouring, or personal-identity fragmentation or dissolution. Above all, Philip K. Dick, many of whose key images and narrative modes, in stories like 'The Father Thing' or 'Faith of Our Fathers' (telling titles!) and in The Three Stigmata of Palmer Eldritch, Ubik, Eye In The Sky, Martian Time-Slip, Time Out of Joint and Do Androids Dream of Electric Sheep? were fundamentally those of horror rather than SF. Meanwhile, my favorite filmmaker was Hitchcock, who hid my appetite for horror from me in plain sight by dressing it in the elegant term 'suspense.' My favorites were Notorious, Vertigo, Psycho, The Birds and Frenzy—all horror films, it seems to me now. Elsewhere I fetishized Poe, The Twilight Zone, Truffaut’s The Bride Wore Black, Kubrick’s The Shining, Powell’s Peeping Tom, and so forth. So I had the cake I claimed not to eat. Having disguised the genre from myself, I was forced to invent it by proxy, and by putting on airs: I didn’t care for slasher films, I was committed to 'the gothic mode.' Even Carpenter and Cronenberg slid under my radar by making satirical SF gestures in the films that were becoming essential to me: Videodrome and Scanners, The Thing and They Live. Horror lurked in my sensibility like Werner Von Braun in a Walt Disney promotional film for rocket science, or the tumor in an outwardly healthy body."