Sinister: "virtual realities and nanotechnological macguffins"

[Cairns, Joe]

A lapse back into schoodentsville imminent, we took it upon ourselves to
actually buy some books, and sauntered into A Very Large Bookstore, where
the regulation Lovely Kooky Bird in Black Specs was on duty. Only this week
it was a different Kooky Bird, and she looked a lot like that Kooky Yank
Bird off the Kooky Computer Show on channel 4. Mmmmm... Kooky Birds in
bookshops.

Like David Attenborough in one of those pervy films, we pretended to look at
books whilst hanging about the counter to get a better look. But what to
select to impress an (obviously savvy and refined) Kooky Bird? Mailer? - too
macho. Burchill? - too pulp. Your Comprehensive Nude Video Guide?

Desperate for kudos, we grabbed a shiny hardback of 'All Tomorrow's
Parties'. A Billy Name memoir, perhaps, or some PopArt collection? No!!! How
she giggled as we realised it was the new cyberpunker from Billy Idol's
favourite author, William Gibson. As she turned away in scornful laughter,
we took a sneaky peak before scurrying back onto Deansgate.

Well, it's a 400-page airport-buster about a strange, millennial cult, who
communicate via an immense web of intertwining fibreoptics, and decide to
convene in a barren, remote, possibly contaminated location to listen to
low, Caledonian mumblings and apparently random belching noises. The jacket
promised long, convoluted, plot twists and PR gaffes, before an eventual
climax involving gratuitous trouser fumblings and Special Guest Appearances.

OK, it's not. It's actually about computers and swords and crap, like all
his other books, but some things never change. Which reminds me of my point.
Ages ago, when we went to college still, all the kids who were Picked On At
School crowded round outside the library and enthused about William Gibson.
And Pearl Jam. And Winnie the Pooh. Whilst the friendly, successful,
popular, Townie kids got laid and went clubbing, the Alternative Kids
huddled in a corner, wearing badly-applied mascara. Yes, they whispered, we
like music and we are Special. They were very boring indeed.

Have you noticed how this was written in the third person? Just like the
NME!

Say something pretty if you can,
Joex

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