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When it gets down to it—talking trade balances here—once we’ve brain-drained all our technology into other countries, once things have evened out, they’re making cars in Bolivia and microwave ovens in Tadzhikistan and selling them here—once our edge in natural resources has been made irrelevant by giant Hong Kong ships and dirigibles that can ship North Dakota all the way to New Zealand for a nickel—once the Invisible Hand has taken all those historical inequities and smeared them out into a broad global layer of what a Pakistani brickmaker would consider to be prosperity—y’know what? There’s
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High speed pizza delivery, peak humanity ❤️🔥
Vitaly owns half a carton of Lucky Strikes, an electric guitar, and a hangover.
It’s not Mom at the wheel. It’s young Studley, the teenaged boy, who like every other boy in this Burbclave has been taking intravenous shots of horse testosterone every afternoon in the high school locker room since he was fourteen years old. Now he’s bulky, stupid, thoroughly predictable.
As a compromise, he hits the button that says POWER. Another button that says ECONOMY pops out and goes dead, reminding him, like an educational demonstration, that the two are mutually exclusive.
The world is full of power and energy and a person can go far by just skimming off a tiny bit of it.
It takes half a second. They are scanning the many bar codes mounted on her chest. They are finding out who she is. The Mafia now knows everything about Y.T.—where she lives, what she does, her eye color, credit record, ancestry, and blood
Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L.A. and the four teenagers probably on a couch in a suburb of Chicago, each with their own laptop. But they probably won’t talk to each other, any more than they would in Reality.
MetaCops’ main competitor, WorldBeat Security, handles all roads belonging to Cruiseways,
Condense fact from the vapor of nuance.
Four more jeeks run up to join them. Y.T. counts two more revolvers and a pump shotgun. Any more of these guys and they’ll be able to form a government.
Cheap, nasty franchises all tend to adopt logos with a lot of bright, hideous yellow in them,
