The heart is a muscle. You 'know' in your limbic system. The seat of instinct. The mammalian brain. Deeper, wider, beyond logic. That is where advertising works, not in the upstart cortex. What we thi...
Mary Shelley may well have invented science fiction. I think she did! But after that it seemed to be a boys' game.
When you want to know how things really work, study them when they're coming apart.
Don't let the little fuckers generation gap you.
Time moves in one direction, memory in another.
What you need to remember, with these guys, is that they don't know they're con men. They're wildly overconfident. Omnipotence, omniscience--that's part of the mythology that surrounds the Special For...
Cyberspace. A consensual hallucination experienced daily by billions of legitimate operators, in every nation, by children being taught mathematical concepts... A graphic representation of data abstra...
The future is already here - it's just not evenly distributed.
Our best analyst thinks it's not a tactical design. Something for mall ninjas....Young men who dress to feel they'll be mistaken for having special capability. A species of cosplay, really. Endemic. L...
The box was a universe, a poem, frozen on the boundaries of human experience.
Lost, so small amid that dark, hands grown cold, body image fading down corridors of television sky.
His smile was the nightmare in my back pocket.(Speaking about Ronald Reagan)
It is a way now, approximately, of being at home. The forum has become one of the most consistent places of her life, like a familiar cafe that exists someone outside geography and beyond time zones....
The 'Net is a waste of time, and that's exactly what's right about it.
Some very considerable part of the gestural language of public places that had once belonged to cigarettes now belonged to phones.
If you knew enough Greek, she thought, you could assemble a word that meant divination via the pattern of grease left on a paper plate by broasted potatoes. But it would be a long word.
I did not come to this country for the terror from paramilitary, declared Voytek, hoarsely. I did not come to this country for . But motherfucker is . Is carceral state, surveillance state. Orwell. Yo...
Five hours' New York jet lag and Cayce Pollard wakes in Camden Town to the dire and ever-circling wolves of disrupted circadian rhythm.
And the Flatline aligned the nose of Kuang's sting with the center of the dark below. And dove. Case's sensory input warped with their velocity. His mouth filled with an aching taste of blue. His eyes...
Farber says (in my recollection, anyway) the European (or classical) art, including film, is culturally assumed to be a monumental slab. It's about that slab, and how it's been shaped, or what's been...