I just saw the video for Alejandro by Lady Gaga, and I couldn’t believe how much it reminded me of an Alastair Reynolds book.
The world Alastair paints for his readers is far-future: humans can live for centuries and are able to genetically modify themselves, yet the world they live in is still very full of pain and suffering, much of it self-inflicted. The awe of long-distance star travel is coupled with dangerous and painful conditions for travellers that make it possible.
There’s this overwhelming sense of discomfort and unease in the books, like something terrible is going to happen. Most of humanity lives in an asteroid belt called The Glimmer Band, and it is full of remnants of previous advanced technology that has been rendered unusable by an alien threat. Constant reminders of that pervade that remind the reader that not everything is alright in this future, and while its unspoken much of the population seems to think the same. This has given way to bizarre decadence by some, and masochistic religious cults in others in the world of The Glimmer Band.
I liked the books, yet I have a hard time reading them: none of the main characters are likable, and terrible things happen to people. Everyone is uncomfortable, sleep-deprived, on-edge, going crazy or all of the above.
Like I said, I got pretty much the same feeling when I watched the video for Alejandro.
The Panther Moderns were a sort of youth terrorism organization in the book Neuromancer by William Gibson:
“Panther Moderns,” he said to the Hosaka, removing the trodes. “Five minute precis.”
“Ready,” the computer said.
It wasn’t a name he knew. Something new, something that had come in since he’d
been in Chiba. Fads swept the youth of the Sprawl at the speed of light; entire subcultures
could rise overnight, thrive for a dozen weeks, and then vanish utterly. “Go,” he said. The
Hosaka had accessed its array of libraries, journals, and news services.
The precis began with a long hold on a color still that Case at first assumed was a
collage of some kind, a boy’s face snipped from another image and glued to a photograph
of a paint-scrawled wall. Dark eyes, epicanthic folds obviously the result of surgery, an
angry dusting of acne across pale narrow cheeks. The Hosaka released the freeze; the boy
moved, flowing with the sinister grace of a mime pretending to be a jungle predator. His
body was nearly invisible, an abstract pattern approximating the scribbled brickwork
sliding smoothly across his tight one piece. Mimetic polycarbon.
Cut to Dr. Virginia Rambali, Sociology, NYU, her name, faculty, and school pulsing
across the screen in pink alphanumerics.
“Given their penchant for these random acts of surreal violence,” someone said, “it
may be difficult for our viewers to understand why you continue to insist that this
phenomenon isn’t a form of terrorism.”
Dr. Rambali smiled. “There is always a point at which the terrorist ceases to
manipulate the media gestalt. A point at which the violence may well escalate, but beyond
which the terrorist has become symptomatic of the media gestalt itself. Terrorism as we
ordinarily understand it is inately media-related. The Panther Moderns differ from other
terrorists precisely in their degree of self-consciousness, in their awareness of the extent
to which media divorce the act of terrorism from the original sociopolitical intent….”
In the book, the “random acts of surreal violence” described above take the form of the Panther Moderns facilitating a raid on an office building by hacking into the building’s computer network to basically hypnotize everyone inside into thinking they’ve been poisoned. At the same time, some of the Moderns called the police to tell them that:
“an obscure sub sect of militant Christian fundamentalists had just taken credit for having introduced clinical levels of an outlawed psychoactive agent known as Blue Nine into the ventilation system of the Sense/Net Pyramid. Blue Nine, known in California as Grievous Angel, had been shown to produce acute paranoia and homicidal psychosis in eighty-five percent of experimental subjects.”
Throughout the raid, the Panther Moderns refer to themselves as ‘Brood’ and another character as Cat Mother.
Since Neuromancer is pretty 80s, here are some synthed-out tracks to get you thinking about the original cyberpunks:
Part of me wants to think that those tracks are what the Panther Moderns would be jamming to if they were actually around today. A bigger part of me knows that they’d probably be fucking around on 4chan instead.
I don’t know what is more awesome about that panel - the fact that Dracula has a castle on the moon, or that he also appears to be in fairly regular contact with Dr. Doom.
The panel is from an issue of Captain Britain where the two super villains team up to take over Britain. I’m sure good eventually triumphs, but Victor and Vlad make for a pretty dangerous combo.
You know what kind of music goes with Vampiric Moon Castles? Fake Blood. And it’s even better mixed with sugary female electro vocals.
That’s why I love these track that Its Overture and Brand X dropped me last week.
“Back in the 1900s, it was a wonderful experience for a boy to discover H.G. Wells. There you were, in a world of pedants, clergymen and golfers…and here was this wonderful man who could tell you about the inhabitants of the sea, and who knew that the future was not going to be what respectable people imagined.“
Its a wonderful quote, and I completely agree with the commenter that shirts should be made, so I’m offering my design above, paraphrased from that quote (clicking on the image will give you the layered, PSD file should you wish to use it - I can’t remember where I got the template).
I’m certainly not a graphic designer, so if you make your own version, let me know in the comments or via email. It’ll probably be better than what I’ve come up with.
Keep the sci-fi dream alive, my friends…and while you’re at it, grok these future tracks:
Its the beginning of March here in Toronto (actually, its probably the beginning of March in the whole world) and the weather is unseasonably warm. To celebrate, I ate lunch on a patio.
Is this the beginning of summer? I hope so, and to get in the mood I’ve been listening to these smart Beach Boys remixes.
A few years ago, no one even knew about Deadmau5. Now, he’s everywhere and its like people can’t get enough of him, and a friend of mine even claims they went to highschool together.
Ghosts’n'Stuff is almost a classic these days, but his remixes are also definitely worth a listen.
Also check out this video of him playing a club in Ibiza. Like DJ Cal, I also lost my shit around the 2:17 mark. The ‘mau5 also gets a ton of cred from me for calling his tour “For Lack Of A Better Name” and his album “Random Album Title” like he just don’t give a fuck.
Anna Karina was Jean-Luc Godard’s muse, his starlett and his wife. She was the main actress in most of the films he directed and this includes a couple of my favorites: Pierrot Le Fou and Alphaville.
I always thought she was hot, but I also always thought that it must have been weird for Godard to watch Jean-Paul Belmondo (possibly the coolest guy in the world) always play the romantic lead across from her.
Anyways, here are some tracks for the francophile in you:
I’ve been looking for an excuse to post this shirt for a while, and IllStM gave me that excuse when he sent me an email with the “Do You Want To Splash Your Blog with Some Fresh Norvegian Blood?” as the subject and a couple of bangin’ tracks attached. “Fitte Prins” is the Norwegian phrase that translates roughly as Playboy - the kind of gadabout ladies man that we can all admire.
Since we’re talking about fitteprinsen here, it also felt appropriate to post this other track courtesy of The Hood Internet.
Also, just because 199x loves the Disco Villains right now, here’s their little treatment of N*E*R*D’s Rock Star. I thought it went well with the Subdelux track. You know, thematically.
