Nursing his fractured coccyx, Dirk rues his momentary impulse to blade down the stairs.

"The Architect" from Matrix Reloaded actually was an architect in his past. This example of his work explains a lot about his abilities and attitude.

“So, what’s this?”
”Some sort of social experiment. Think it was called Earth”
”Interesting?”
”Nah. Only if you like watching six billion simulations fucking and killing each other. It's all they do, really. You know, seemed to be a good idea at the time, but then everybody got bored with it.”
”No shit. Who’s the artist?”
”Local girl. Last I’ve heard, she went to Law School.”
”But if nobody’s watching, why is it still on?”
”Dunno. It has a kind of... monumental value, I guess. Waste of space, if you ask me.”
”Then why are you watching this?”
”I'm not. Was going to grab a beer on my way home, actually. Wanna come?”
”You know, I’m kinda tired. Maybe I’ll just sit here and watch it for a while.”

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Florida. 3020. Old people still think they can drive.

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Fighting causes injury

'Ladies and Gentlemen, this is your captain speaking. I'm rather sorry to report that our final destination, Betelgeuse C14, has just exploded.'

I should note that the following image affords one a unique opportunity to scribe something truly prosaic and Gibsonian.

Any caption at all will be appropriate to the thread's title, though.

If JB's reading this: continue coming in here and posting your posts, I love them all. My comments up there weren't meant to be exclusive. Forgive me.



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Arthur loved his limited-edition Syd Mead VL glasses.

the human mesh --

spires of steel and glass, cathedrals, celebrating commerical empires whose foundations lay long-since buried in the impenetrable bedrock of time.

this is haydlon, city of industry. maglev transports float on thin strings of information; old, weary. polylinear superstructure, born through nanological command.

echoing the earth.

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For the city/zeppelin-picture:

The Gibson Continuum

It was then that he realized that, like his father before him, he too was haunted by his own semiotic ghosts.

Terminus, Trantor. circa 2110. Pic from the Galactic Archives showing the re-development of Terminus' pre-Hydrogen Era petrochemical refining infrastructure into commercial space. Middle structure is now the Sub-7 Quadrant-147 (level 10) Non-affiliated Maintenance Systems Integrators Department of the Ministry of Air and Water.

Sorry, I forgot Terminus and Trantor are two different planets. Substitute "Terminus" with the name of a city on Trantor and you get the general idea. Anyone? Great pictures, btw.

I'm surprised no one posted for the last pic, it being so cyberpunk and all.

Alright:



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Ladies and Gentlemen, welcome to the Salvador Dali Memorial Planetarium!

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Who said I couldn't play?

out of interest Metro, do you get paid for your work in looking after the world's biggest collection of insipid cover art for bad SF Novels or is it more of a hobby?

they have the internet on computers now?

. . . A startling silence descends, the crickets begin to sing.

Chatsubo's attempt at wittiness, forever lost in the sea of time.

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