Chrome the fuck up!

 I have seen the Netflix show Cyberpunk runners three or four times to completion. The star crossed lovers fate is felt even harder in a dystopia.

That thing about hope is know tells you how much it hurts. You just kind of have to figure it out before it’s too late.

Why am I rewatching it a fourth or fifth time in a couple of years? Mostly because I am about to start a game of Kill. Sample. Process.

I am trying to get in the headspace of noir medieval futurism and the thesis I am coming to is Grim Dark is essentially Cyberpunk from the perspective of the establishment.

I mean in a lot of ways out there neon soaked lights is a crude wisdom and street weary aphorism and slogans galore. Desperate looks ugly and chrome the fuck up. Are a nice noir combo.

But then again maybe the Grim Dark is what happens after the twilight of cyber punk. The hope is the difference. The efficiency with which fascism strips us of our hope is the grim we experience in the dark of the future.

A post apocalypse so layered and distorted by tragedy it’s only from the outside we see how hopeless the circumstances truly are. A nightmare of associations clinging to the will we call consciousness. Billions and potentially trillions of apposing perspectives all fighting for the binary state where they feel they can know they are at the top and feel the influence of what that means. A hope so isolated it exists beyond our comprehension… yet it still exists. As the cheese on the spiritual mousetrap. 

Yet we’re unsure which which is worse the quick break of a neck trying to get the cheese in a leap of faith of painful longing of hunger, of staring at the trap and knowing one day we may yet succeed, with a conviction that the pain is worth it.

The trap is always set. The prize always out of reach. Only the psychological hunger and longing haunts and distorts our consistent relationships.

If you’re still reading this you have not made that magnificent leap yet and maybe one day you will make it. You will get the most magnificent object in the world (what is it if not always out of reach). But until then you’re left staring at the cheese on the trap… with people like me and the thoughts we share as an our only common thread of humanity.