Just finished a fairly literary book by someone highly influenced by William Gibson. I am generally ambivalent to his trend-spotter’s enthusiasm for the weird future, but to get it in an emulated form is worse, it’s like enthusiasm about enthusiasm. It helps me realize I am very suspicious of enthusiasm generally. And I particularly don’t think it’s a great impulse to start from in a work of art.
Livid misanthropy and world-darkening pessimism just feels more true than a gee-whiz attitude about how weird and portentous the signs are becoming, and what kinds of cool ramifications that might have.