Today’s Silicon Valley billionaires grew up reading classic American science fiction. Now they’re trying to make it come true, embodying a dangerous political outlook
The metaverse is a joke Neal Stephenson told. Zuck didn’t get it. A lot of people didn’t get it. Modern audiences might not even recognize it as satire, because first-wave cyberpunk is so dated, we’re now seeing a thirty-year revival.
“Cyberspace” in the 1980s meant Lawnmower Man, Johnny Mnemonic, ReBoot nonsense. Flying around a neon CGI clusterfuck. Floating math equations. Giant skeumorphic padlocks over locked doors that are, themselves, questionable metaphors. That was their best-effort visualization of the realms of pure thought that hackers’ minds would interface with. The book True Names just barely predates Neuromancer, and it referred to people using the virtual world as “warlocks” on “the other plane.” All of this is as high-minded and mystical as the first VR systems being called “vision quests” where users’ bodies were named after the physical manifestation of a god.
The metaverse is a joke Neal Stephenson told. Zuck didn’t get it. A lot of people didn’t get it. Modern audiences might not even recognize it as satire, because first-wave cyberpunk is so dated, we’re now seeing a thirty-year revival.
“Cyberspace” in the 1980s meant Lawnmower Man, Johnny Mnemonic, ReBoot nonsense. Flying around a neon CGI clusterfuck. Floating math equations. Giant skeumorphic padlocks over locked doors that are, themselves, questionable metaphors. That was their best-effort visualization of the realms of pure thought that hackers’ minds would interface with. The book True Names just barely predates Neuromancer, and it referred to people using the virtual world as “warlocks” on “the other plane.” All of this is as high-minded and mystical as the first VR systems being called “vision quests” where users’ bodies were named after the physical manifestation of a god.
Snow Crash turned that into a mall.