
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