"Una foresta di neon, la pioggia che sfrigolava sul marciapiede arroventato. L’odore del cibo che friggeva. Le mani di una ragazza rinserrate dietro il fondo della sua schiena, nell’oscurità torpida di una bara sul lato del porto. Ma tutto ciò si allontanava, come si allontana il panorama di una città: una città come Chiba, come i dati allineati della Tessier-Ashpool S.A., come le strade e gli incroci inscritti sulla faccia di un microchip, il disegno creato dalle macchie di sudore su una sciarpa piegata e annodata…"
it doesn’t even matter what he writes about
William Gibson is the fucking god of going into detail and making you understand exactly the scenario he is presenting you with. guy could write cookbooks for all I care, he’d still be a hero to me
"She missed it by a fraction. She nearly cut it, but not quite. She went in just right, Case thought. The right attitude; it was something he could sense, something he could have have seen in the posture of another cowboy leaning into a deck, fingers flying across the board. She had it; the thing, the moves, and the she pull it all together for her entrance, pulled it together around the pain of in her leg and marched down 3Jane’s stairs like she owned the place, elbow of her gun arm at her hip, forearm up, wrist relaxed, swaying the muzzle of the fletcher with the studied nonchalance of a Regency duelist. It was a performance. It was like the culmination of a life-time’s observation of martial art tapes, cheap ones, for a few second, he knew, she was every bad-ass hero, Sonny Mao in the old Shaw videos, Mickey Chiba, the whole lineage to lee and Eastwood. She was walking it the way she talked it."
William gibson,neuromancer (via foxhole143)
So basically, I read Neuromancer when I was about sixteen. The consequence of this is that I immediately began dressing in all black and wearing mirrored sunglasses all the time. I also started drinking my coffee black, not because it tasted good (it didn’t), but because MOLLY DRANK BLACK COFFEE OMG and therefore I had to as well.
I never even attempted to visually recreate Molly’s nails, though, because I played guitar so I couldn’t have long and/or fake nails. I had fake nails for prom in 11th grade and I ripped them off the next day.
This is beautiful
These augmented contact lenses could give you a real-life HUD
Researchers are readying augmented contact lenses that project images before your eyes—Adam Jensen style. While potentially not as cool looking as the Deus Ex hero’s Oakley-esque implants, at least people won’t wonder why you are wearing sunglasses indoors.
The technology could allow wearers to read floating texts and emails or augment their sight with computer-generated images, Terminator-syle.
For example, drivers could wear them to see journey directions or their vehicle’s speed projected onto the windscreen.
Similarly, the lenses could take the virtual world of video gaming to a new level.
Early tests show the device is safe and feasible, says the University of Washington in Seattle. But there are still wrinkles to iron out, like finding a good power source. Currently, their crude prototype device can only work if it is within centimetres of the wireless battery. And its microcircuitry is only enough for one light-emitting diode, reports the Journal of Micromechanics and Microengineering.
Image: Brian Taylor
Where can I steal a pair of these motherfuckers?
Street Samurai and Razor Girls
I am an occupant of the Sprawl, a console cowboy who revels in neon and vice.
Tuesday, August 29, 2006
MOLLY’S MIRRORSHADES; ZEISS-IKON EYES
posted 12:27 PM
Readers, recently, ask: What are these things “really” like?
Well, really, you the reader are expected to do a bit of imagining on your own; you see black marks on white paper, interpret them, and form an image. Part of the writer’s task is in judging whether you’re being given too much information or too little. As a reader of sf, I often felt I was being given too little, and that the writer probably wasn’t bothering to form that detailed an image in her own mind. Part of my initial urge to write sf grew out of a frustration with that, leading to what Bruce Sterling (I believe) deemed “the hyperspecificity of the cyberpunk style”. With Molly Millions’ “implanted” glasses, though, I could never dream up a sufficiently convincing way to imagine them being attached. Were they “implanted” in skin, muscle, bone, all of these? How would any of these impact on the mobility of her features? What would the seam between skin and mirror look like? The character having emerged, very handily, in an early short story, when I hadn’t been much concerned with this particular detail, and not having expected to see her again, I found myself, as more Molly narratives emerged, concerned by my inability to satisfactorily envision the way in which the damned things were attached. My solution to this, ongoing, was to keep the “camera” off that troubling little detail. To blur around it with language. The “mirrored implants” worked wonders for the character, in fact largely *were* the character, but there was never, really, any “really” there. With the “Zeiss-Ikon eyes”, from “Burning Chrome”, which some readers evidently invision as (gack) German camera lenses, there was a “really”. I assumed they were vat-grown, genetically optically perfect organs, perhaps further tweaked to maximize them as, in effect, video cameras. The name of the company would be subtly worked into the patterning around each iris, and wouldn’t be very obvious at all, or readable, unless you were extremely close to the wearer (recipient? owner?) And this post has left me so otaku-OD’d that I wish I could retire for a coffee, to one of those joints in Akihabara where the waitresses wear Minnie Mouse shoes and bulbous three-fingered gloves!"