1. hangingfire:

These super-mirrored Mykita + Maison Martin Margiela sunglasses are a look I’ve been wanting since I read Neuromancer over 20 years ago, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Too bad they cost the proverbial limbs.

From Neuromancer:


  She shook her head. He realized that the glasses were surgically inset, sealing her sockets. The silver lenses seemed to grow from smooth pale skin above her cheekbones, framed by dark hair cut in a rough shag. The fingers curled around the fletcher were slender, white, tipped with polished burgundy. The nails looked artificial. “I think you screwed up, Case. I showed up and you just fit me right into your reality picture.”


* * *


  "We must, as you say in Ingiliz, take this one very easy.” [Terzibashjian] seemed to stare pointedly at Molly, but at last he removed the silver glasses. His eyes were a dark brown that matched the shade of his very short military-cut hair. He smiled. “It is better, this way, yes? Else we make the tunel infinity, mirror into mirror…. You particularly,” he said to her, “must take care. In Turkey there is disapproval of women who sport such modifications.”
  
  Molly bit one of the pastries in half. “It’s my show, Jack,” she said, her mouth full. She chewed, swallowed, and licked her lips. “I know about you. Stool for the military, right?” Her hand slid lazily into the front of her jacket and came out with the fletcher. Case hadn’t known she had it.
  
  "Very easy, please," Terzibashjian said, his white china thimble frozen centimeters from his lips.
  
  She extended the gun. “Maybe you get the explosives, lots of them, or maybe you get a cancer. One dart, shitface. You won’t feel it for months.”
  
  "Please. You call this in Ingiliz making me very tight….”
  
  "I call it a bad morning. Now tell us about your man and get your ass out of here." She put the gun away.

    hangingfire:

    These super-mirrored Mykita + Maison Martin Margiela sunglasses are a look I’ve been wanting since I read Neuromancer over 20 years ago, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Too bad they cost the proverbial limbs.

    From Neuromancer:

    She shook her head. He realized that the glasses were surgically inset, sealing her sockets. The silver lenses seemed to grow from smooth pale skin above her cheekbones, framed by dark hair cut in a rough shag. The fingers curled around the fletcher were slender, white, tipped with polished burgundy. The nails looked artificial. “I think you screwed up, Case. I showed up and you just fit me right into your reality picture.”

    * * *

    "We must, as you say in Ingiliz, take this one very easy.” [Terzibashjian] seemed to stare pointedly at Molly, but at last he removed the silver glasses. His eyes were a dark brown that matched the shade of his very short military-cut hair. He smiled. “It is better, this way, yes? Else we make the tunel infinity, mirror into mirror…. You particularly,” he said to her, “must take care. In Turkey there is disapproval of women who sport such modifications.”

    Molly bit one of the pastries in half. “It’s my show, Jack,” she said, her mouth full. She chewed, swallowed, and licked her lips. “I know about you. Stool for the military, right?” Her hand slid lazily into the front of her jacket and came out with the fletcher. Case hadn’t known she had it.

    "Very easy, please," Terzibashjian said, his white china thimble frozen centimeters from his lips.

    She extended the gun. “Maybe you get the explosives, lots of them, or maybe you get a cancer. One dart, shitface. You won’t feel it for months.”

    "Please. You call this in Ingiliz making me very tight….”

    "I call it a bad morning. Now tell us about your man and get your ass out of here." She put the gun away.

  2. npr:

Long Awaited Lab-Grown Burger Is Unveiled In London

After three months, $330,000 and a high-profile media blitz, the world’s first hamburger grown in a lab made its worldwide debut Monday.
The unveiling of “cultured beef,” as the burger is branded, was a production worthy of the Food Network era, complete with chatty host, live-streamed video, hand-picked taste testers, a top London chef and an eager audience (made up mostly of journalists). Rarely has a single food gotten such star treatment.
But this was no ordinary food launch, of course. The burger, which began as just a few stem cells extracted from a cow’s shoulder, represents a technology potentially so disruptive that it has attracted the support of Google co-founder Sergei Brin.
"Sometimes a new technology comes along and it has the capability to transform how we view the world," Brin says in a promotional video released Monday, the same day he was unmasked as the anonymous donor who ponied up money to grow the burger.

Read the rest on NPR’s The Salt blog.
(Photo: iStockPhoto)
Would you try a lab-grown hamburger if you could?

From Neuromancer:

Molly and Armitage ate in silence, while Case sawed shakily at his steak, reducing it to uneaten bite-sized fragments, which he pushed around in the rich sauce, finally abandoning the whole thing.
"Jesus," Molly said, her own plate empty, "gimme that. You know what this costs?" She took his plate. ‘They gotta raise a whole animal for years and then they kill it. This isn’t vat stuff." She forked a mouthful up and chewed.

    npr:

    Long Awaited Lab-Grown Burger Is Unveiled In London

    After three months, $330,000 and a high-profile media blitz, the world’s first hamburger grown in a lab made its worldwide debut Monday.

    The unveiling of “cultured beef,” as the burger is branded, was a production worthy of the Food Network era, complete with chatty host, live-streamed video, hand-picked taste testers, a top London chef and an eager audience (made up mostly of journalists). Rarely has a single food gotten such star treatment.

    But this was no ordinary food launch, of course. The burger, which began as just a few stem cells extracted from a cow’s shoulder, represents a technology potentially so disruptive that it has attracted the support of Google co-founder Sergei Brin.

    "Sometimes a new technology comes along and it has the capability to transform how we view the world," Brin says in a promotional video released Monday, the same day he was unmasked as the anonymous donor who ponied up money to grow the burger.

    Read the rest on NPR’s The Salt blog.

    (Photo: iStockPhoto)

    Would you try a lab-grown hamburger if you could?

    From Neuromancer:

    Molly and Armitage ate in silence, while Case sawed shakily at his steak, reducing it to uneaten bite-sized fragments, which he pushed around in the rich sauce, finally abandoning the whole thing.

    "Jesus," Molly said, her own plate empty, "gimme that. You know what this costs?" She took his plate. ‘They gotta raise a whole animal for years and then they kill it. This isn’t vat stuff." She forked a mouthful up and chewed.

  3. Social Dead Zone: "Better than a frozen head": The Social Uncanny →

    socialdead:

    The Social Uncanny describes the narcissistic void of social technology that reflects us back to ourselves, familiar yet strange. It is the rush we feel at the sight of ourselves in recursion throughout the eternal reflected worlds of social media. Like mirrors facing each other in perfect parallel, each online profile generates a new subset, a new reflection, more distorted than the last, until our faces are shapeless blurs spiralling off into the Nth dimension.

    The Social Uncanny is also our disgust at the sight of those multiplying nested images which we are now unable to control or cull. We delete one profile only to find another that has slipped the noose, gone missing in the wild before returning to public life with wildly inappropriate personal information broadcast to the world at the times we never want it to. The return of the repressed: everything you say or do online archived forever, even the ultra embarrassing stuff from your early digital life, stored somewhere where you’ll never get to it even if you wanted to hide it from someone. Backups, caches and archives working silently in the background to ensure you can never hunt down and kill the original (a term now meaningless), never completely eliminate your shame.

    The Social Uncanny infests a new Twitter app, LivesOn. This app, which is really a bot automagically “powered by algorithims”, analyses your online habits and learns your tweeting “voice”. Assign it certain rights and when you die it keeps tweeting for you  as you  forever.

    From Neuromancer:

    "Had me this buddy in the Russian camp, Siberia, his thumb was frostbit. Medics came by and they cut it off. Month later he’s tossin; all night. Elroy, I said, what’s eatin’ you? Goddam thumb’s itchin’, he says. So I told him, scratch it. McCoy, he says, it’s the other goddam thumb." When the construct laughed, it came through as something else, not laughter, but a stab of cold down Case’s spine. "Do me a favor, boy."

    "What’s that, Dix?"

    "This scam of yours, when it’s over, you erase this goddam thing."

  4. rocketsandrayguns:

    pureaesthetic:

    retro: video: cybrpnk: promotional video for the ill fated 1986 neuromancer film adaptation.

    What the?

    This is a deeply odd little cultural artifact, but the thing that struck me at 1:20 in is Deborah Rosenberg’s comment about how “when one reads between the lines, it’s a panacea … you can see [Gibson’s] own very personal rainbow.” Which is echoed in this excerpt from the Paris Review interview:

    INTERVIEWER: Why did you set the novel in the aftermath of a war?

    GIBSON: In 1981, it was pretty much every intelligent person’s assumption that on any given day the world could end horribly and pretty well permanently. There was this vast, all-consuming, taken-for-granted, even boring end-of-the-world anxiety that had been around since I was a little kid. So one of the things I wanted to do with Neuromancer was to write a novel in which the world didn’t end in a nuclear war. In Neuromancer, the war starts, they lose a few cities, then it stops when multinational corporations essentially take the United States apart so that can never happen again. There’s deliberately no textual evidence that the United States exists as a political entity in Neuromancer. On the evidence of the text America seems to be a sort of federation of city-states connected to a military-industrial complex that may not have any government controlling it. That was my wanting to get away from the future-is-America thing. The irony, of course, is how the world a­ctually went. If somebody had been able to sit me down in 1981 and say, You know how you wrote that the United States is gone and the Soviet Union is looming in the background like a huge piece of immobile slag? Well, you got it kind of backward.

    (Also, that’s one hell of a jacket Gibson is wearing.)

  5. Stem Cells Take Root in Koreatown →

    One step closer to the clinics of Chiba City and the underground doctors of the Sprawl? From the LA Business Journal:

    Patients seeking one of the most complicated and experimental therapies in medicine have been descending not on UCLA or Cedars-Sinai but on a small corner storefront in the Koreatown Galleria.

    There, upstairs from a grocery and alongside stores selling handbags and Hello Kitty dolls, sufferers of arthritis, Parkinson’s, Alzheimer’s and other hard-to-treat diseases have been seeking relief.

    In this most unlikely place, one of the world’s largest stem cell clinics, a South Korean company called RNL Bio Co. Ltd., has established its American headquarters. Looking to attract a foothold in the U.S. market, it is tapping into L.A.’s sizable Korean community – even as two patient deaths in Asia have incited criticism of the company back home.

    From Neuromancer:

    The medical team Molly employed occupied two floors of an anonymous condo-rack near the old hub of Baltimore. The building was modular, like some giant version of Cheap Hotel, each coffin forty meters long. Case met Molly as she emerged from one that wore the elaborately worked logo of one GERALD CHIN, DENTIST. She was limping.

    "He says if I kick anything, it’ll fall off."

  6. Still from Inception, dir. Christopher Nolan, 2010.
The Gibsonian Institute is interested as well in works inspired by Gibson’s—an inspiration that he, disarmingly, doesn’t necessarily see himself, at least initially. At his booksigning in Austin, he said that he’d assumed that Inception's filmmakers had been influenced by the same things he had—J.G. Ballard, Giorgio de Chirico, and so on.
And they certainly may have, although on at least one count, VFX supervisor Paul Franklin (interviewed here in Wired) freely acknowledged his debt to Gibson on Twitter:

@GreatDismal #Inception folding city owes something to the description of the TA Spindle in Neuromancer. It was in my thoughts as we made it

From Neuromancer:

"Welcome to the Rue Jules Verne," Molly said. "If you have trouble walking, just look at your feet. The perspective’s a bitch, if you’re not used to it."
They were standing in a broad street that seemed to be the floor of a deep slot or canyon, its either end concealed by subtle angles in the shops and buildings that formed its walls. The light, here, was filtered through the fresh green masses of vegetation tumbling from overhanging tiers and balconies that rose above them. The sun…
There was a brilliant slash of white somewhere above them, too bright, and the recorded blue of a Cannes sky. He knew that sunlight was pumped in through a Lado-Acheson system whose two-millimeter armature ran the length of the spindle, that they generated a rotating library of sky effects around it, that if the sky were turned off, he’d stare up past the armature of light to the curves of lakes, rooftops of casinos, other streets… But it made no sense to his body.
"Jesus," he said. "I like this less than SAS."

    Still from Inception, dir. Christopher Nolan, 2010.

    The Gibsonian Institute is interested as well in works inspired by Gibson’s—an inspiration that he, disarmingly, doesn’t necessarily see himself, at least initially. At his booksigning in Austin, he said that he’d assumed that Inception's filmmakers had been influenced by the same things he had—J.G. Ballard, Giorgio de Chirico, and so on.

    And they certainly may have, although on at least one count, VFX supervisor Paul Franklin (interviewed here in Wired) freely acknowledged his debt to Gibson on Twitter:

    @GreatDismal #Inception folding city owes something to the description of the TA Spindle in Neuromancer. It was in my thoughts as we made it

    From Neuromancer:

    "Welcome to the Rue Jules Verne," Molly said. "If you have trouble walking, just look at your feet. The perspective’s a bitch, if you’re not used to it."

    They were standing in a broad street that seemed to be the floor of a deep slot or canyon, its either end concealed by subtle angles in the shops and buildings that formed its walls. The light, here, was filtered through the fresh green masses of vegetation tumbling from overhanging tiers and balconies that rose above them. The sun…

    There was a brilliant slash of white somewhere above them, too bright, and the recorded blue of a Cannes sky. He knew that sunlight was pumped in through a Lado-Acheson system whose two-millimeter armature ran the length of the spindle, that they generated a rotating library of sky effects around it, that if the sky were turned off, he’d stare up past the armature of light to the curves of lakes, rooftops of casinos, other streets… But it made no sense to his body.

    "Jesus," he said. "I like this less than SAS."

  7. Stuxnet worm heralds new era of global cyberwar →

    Guardian article on the Stuxnet worm, which in 2008 found its way onto US systems via infected USB drives, and which recently attacked an Iranian nuclear plant. Not quite the Kuang Grade Mark Eleven, but…

    From Neuromancer:

    Maelcum produced a white lump of foam slightly smaller than Case’s head, fished a pearl-handled switchblade on a green nylon lanyard out of the hip pocket of his tattered shorts, and carefully slit the plastic. He extracted a rectangular object and passed it to Case. “Thas part some gun, mon?”

    "No," Case said, turning it over, "but it’s a weapon. It’s a virus."

    "Not on this boy tug, mon," Maelcum said firmly, reaching for the steel cassette.

    "A program. Virus program. Can’t get into you, can’t even get into your software. I’ve got to interface it through the deck, before it can work on anything."

    "Well, Japan-mon, he says Hosaka here’ll tell you every what an’ wherefore, you wanna know."

    "Okay. Well, you leave me to it, okay?"

    Maelcum kicked off and drifted past the pilot console, busying himself with a caulk gun. Case hastily looked away from the waving fronds of transparent caulk. He wasn’t sure why, but something about them brought back the nausea of SAS.

    "What is this thing?" he asked the Hosaka. "Parcel for me."

    "Data transfer from Bockris Systems GmbH, Frankfurt, advises, under coded transmission, that content of shipment is Kuang Grade Mark Eleven penetration program. Bockris further advises that interface with Ono-Sendai Cyberspace 7 is entirely compatible and yields optimal penetration capabilities, particularly with regard to existing military systems…"

    "How about an AI?"

    "Existing military systems and artificial intelligences."

    "Jesus Christ. What did you call it?"

    "Kuang Grade Mark Eleven."

    "It’s Chinese?"

    "Yes."