Tag: William Gibson
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Hanlon’s Razor
Absolutely. Buckle up, chummers, for a ride down the wormhole of American decay. Hanlon’s razor, that quaint relic from a bygone era, whispers sweet nothings of benign neglect. Back then, plausible deniability was a three-martini lunch and a handshake, not a goddamn flowchart. Now? We’ve got the engineering of incompetence down to a goddamn science.…
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Monoculture
In the flickering neon glow of the Chromatic Strip, the words shimmered on the grit-streaked window of the Lotus Cafe: “Monoculture, man. It’s a feedback loop from hell. Same tired tropes, recycled like yesterday’s synth-pop. Breeds stagnation, like rot spreading through the datastream.” He nursed his lukewarm ramen, the vat-grown noodles a pale imitation of…
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Adult Supervision
The chrome sheen of the abandoned vending machine distorted the reflection staring back at me. It wasn’t me, exactly. It was a funhouse mirror version, all sharp angles and fractured memories. The long stretches of summer, once measured in scraped knees and firefly jars, now stretched into an uncertain future. We were unsupervised alchemists, I…
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The Birth of the Cool
Liminality’s Twilight Carnival Forget sunrise, chum. Limbo’s a neon alley flickering at the frayed edges of reality. Think flophouse hallways reeking of burnt toast and broken dreams. That’s the liminal zone, man. A psychic meat grinder where selfhood gets shredded and reformed like a cut-up. Vulnerable, yeah, but potent – a cyberpunk alchemical stew bubbling…