I've been listening to the audiobook for Neuromancer (read by Gibson himself), for like the 40th time and starting to notice that we're already in the dystopian cyberpunk future. It' s just not so flashy, neon and chrome.
Streaming audio from my cloud storage, to wireless earbuds, I order my breakfast from a terminal, pay with an embedded RFid/NFC chip, and wait for my food to be produced. While looking around at the mix of people, languages and ages, one menu board starts to flicker. The images overlaid with transparent rainbow bars, glitching back and forth. My phone vibrates with an update. It's work, due to all my hard effort in starting an emergent triage call center for the latest plague; I've won a Bronze level recognition. "Bronze?" I think to myself, "fucking Bronze? For all that hard work and on the fly programming changes. FFS.
Then, I drive back to my office, scan my badge and hoof it up the stairs. Case is slotting military grade ICE, Quwang Grade Mark 11, sneaky stuff. Slides right up to the Black ICE and bores on in. I sit down at my desk, key in my credentials and wait for an auth code from our security software. *CODE ACCEPTED* My 4 monitors come to life, remote sessions with streaming data, lines of code, flow charts routing calls to remote call centers and tab after tab of phone configs. The cyberpunk future is here. It's just been a subtle change and I didn't realize it. We may not have neural implants, nerve jobs and a full blown wireless consensual hallucination of the grid but we've got our own version.
Proud Survivor From Thread Hole 64 Campaign
1987 CBR600F Hurricane Sprawl Bike
-=High Tech / Low Life=-