neometropolis-0x03

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John
Jacobs
Digitally signed by John
Jacobs
DN: CN = John Jacobs, C
= US, O = Neometropolis,
OU = Magazine
Reason: I am the author
of this document
Date: 2004.12.06
19:05:13 -06'00'
Contents
Inane Ramblings
1
Ian Creasey
Cut and Pastiche 4
Greg Beatty
(For People Only) 21
Andrew Gudgel
Night Shift in the Automart, the
Goddess Dancing 23
Jerry J. Davis
Resurrection of Broken Dreams 28
About Neometropolis…
43
Neometropolis is:
John Jacobs, Editor, Webmaster, Megalomaniac
Tim Knodel, Assistant Editor, Chatboard Moderator
Peter Mondlock, Assistant Editor, Chatboard Moderator
Holly Truong, Chatboard Moderator
Copyright 2004, John Jacobs. All rights reserved. No part of this
publication may be retransmitted or redistributed, electronically or
otherwise, without the express consent of its respective author.
NEOMETROPOLIS
INANE RAMBLINGS
Well friends, here we are in the last month of 2004. The bleak cyberpunk future
predicted by Saint Gibson in the 80’s, which was then scoffed at by the kind-
hearted folks at Salon.com in the 90’s, is finally coming to pass. Well, it’s coming
to pass in a slightly different way. When Y2K came around I never did get a
chance to ride around in a post-apocalyptic deathmobile wearing an umpire outfit
with spiked shoulder pads and waving around a pike with doll heads impaled on
it. I did, however, witness something almost as interesting—the fabled dot com
crash and the death of the so-called “New Economy.” While not as exhilarating
as fighting mutant zombies with a sawed off shotgun, our present scenario is the
end result of the same herd mentality that could have brought about the
aforementioned dystopia. In other words, we got lucky. We pulled the trigger
and the chamber was empty.
Are we out of the woods just yet? Not in my opinion. The global economy is
becoming more and more unstable, the greenback is falling like a brick of lead,
and the probability of another market crash is higher than it was in the past.
Toss in a fundamentalist ideal-driven proto World War III and you have the
ingredients for a good old-fashioned dystopia.
Is this a cause for concern for me? No, not really. Even if California drops into
the ocean, polar bears become extinct, and I can no longer walk the streets of
Chicago without a badge that says I’m not a terrorist, life will go on. We are, after
all, a very versatile species of ape. As a matter of fact, the microcosm of my own
life right now could not be better. I’m no longer waking in the middle of the night
every night having a panic attack, I’m gainfully employed at a company that kind
of treats me like a human being, and I have you guys… my dear, deceived (I
mean devoted) followers.
Issue # 0X03, 12/2004 -1- http://www.neometropolis.com
NEOMETROPOLIS
In fact, I’m fucking elated that we’ve made it to issue #3, seeing as how every
week I drop everything I’m doing in my life to go chasing after some other shiny
object. And this magazine has given me a chance to communicate with people
all over the world and understand where they are coming from. For example, I
found that we are all united in our loathing of Redneck Fatballs (I mean President
Bush). Oh well, I guess I can’t be too hard on the guy for stealing money from
the poor and giving it to the rich, just as long as he keeps the country free from
terrorists and our civil liberties safe and locked away from us.
So what to do and what to say? For one thing, keep sending me your stories and
articles! I don’t care if it’s “cyberpunk” or not. Some day maybe I’ll run into you
on the Chicago-Milwaukee mag-lev train and we’ll have a good discussion about
how a small group of brilliant minds in the late 20th century had a vision of a
future where humanity and technology blended past the point of discernability,
and then some marketing douche bag had to come along and give it a label,
make it into something that can be sold. Names are names; ideas, visions—
these are something holy, unsoiled by words. To label an idea/vision is to grab
an archangel from the clouds and chain him to the earth.
Or maybe I’m wrong. Perhaps this is unavoidable. After all, that may be the real
intent of all writing/art—to grab a hold of something divine and bring it down to
earth like Prometheus bringing the fire of the gods down from the mountain to the
people. Speaking of which, this reminds me of a conversation I had on an
Internet messageboard with a hack writer named Steve Miller. When I put forth
the proposition that writing is an art he had the audacity to call me an amateur. I
was about to tell the dildo to change his goddamn name so that I could stop
confusing him with the band but then I realized it would just be wasted
keystrokes. I came to understand that clowns like him are necessary in this
industry, because they are the backdrop against which real creativity shines.
Don’t get me wrong, I see writing as an industry and a profession as well, and if
you can make money off of it then God bless. But writing is first and foremost an
abstract form of expression, and that, to me, is art.
But I’m getting critical and off-topic again. The point is that this great medium—
the Internet—has changed everything. For the up and coming writer the problem
is no longer getting your work “out there,” it’s getting your masterpiece to stand
out from the unfathomable volume of other media that’s already out there. The
Internet, it seems, is acting like some kind of wide scale decommercializing
agent, spreading ideas and copyrighted media alike with amoral abandon. Just
look at the shit fit the movie and music industries are throwing over it! Anything
you want, be it a film or rare album, is free if you know where to find it. Sure,
they can label you a “pirate,” trace your IP address, and toss you in the slammer
with a bunch of violent criminals. After all, isn’t it just as bad to steal a movie
that’s overpriced by about $20 as it is to kill someone? Come on people, this is
capitalism, not a democracy!
Issue # 0X03, 12/2004 -2- http://www.neometropolis.com
NEOMETROPOLIS
Then again you can be crafty about it and steal bandwidth from the café down
the street using your trusty cantenna, in which case the feds will come and
apprehend the poor guy that’s selling lattés behind the counter. You’ll be okay,
they won’t be able to pin anything on the guy selling lattés, and everyone is
happy except for the MPAA/RIA, who can at last know for themselves what it’s
like to get fucked in the pooper.
It’s like the whole wireless craze is an egalitarian force, a vehicle of power in the
hands of the meek and proletariat. With the ability to link up from any place on
the globe we all are equal, we are all connected. Like in John Shirley’s short
story “Wolves of the Plateau,” a new vista is opening up to us, and the existing
powers are frightened because they know that their time is coming to an end.
I think I’ve rambled enough for this issue, and Overmind knows I’ve stepped on
enough toes. In leaving you, I tell you all to be good little postmodern citizens.
Take your Soma (I mean Prozac/Ritalin/Aderol) every day. Put all of your 401k
savings into your company’s stock, because that is what good workers do, and
undying loyalty to your company will be equally repaid. Watch the Republican
Channel (I mean Fox News) so you can get a clear and unbiased view of the
world around you. And always, always have your Little Red Book (I mean
Neometropolis Magazine) on hand, because without it you are just another lost,
hapless 21st century refugee, asleep/awake in a world whose paradigms are
about to come into question, and what we perceive as ‘real’ is finally put on trial.
Issue # 0X03, 12/2004 -3- http://www.neometropolis.com
摘要:

ContentsInaneRamblings1IanCreaseyCutandPastiche4GregBeatty(ForPeopleOnly)21AndrewGudgelNightShiftintheAutomart,theGoddessDancing23JerryJ.DavisResurrectionofBrokenDreams28AboutNeometropolis…43Neometropolisis:JohnJacobs,Editor,Webmaster,MegalomaniacTimKnodel,AssistantEditor,ChatboardModeratorPeterMond...

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