RND/ consider a gallery of Dead Cyberpunk Kitsch (the best of the worst of the long forgotten and also-rans) all officially (subculturally) approved by Lord Edge, bless. Images freely available via The Interblack.
Oh Lord Edge, oh Eternally Mirror-Shaded One
We thank thee for more hot Post Cyberpunk Flavor
You who finally brought CP’s eternal undeath to ‘Lite’
You of the anti-ironic, sweaty summer leather jacket wearing masses
You who stands alone, rock hard, forever poised
On the hard, brittle precipice, and is only mildly afraid
Who willingly looses his shape forever Trying To Act Kasual
Just so we may bare the Neon Hyperreality Flesh raw:
“Neuropink is an amusing headshot [to Cyberpunk]”
– Prayer to Lord Edge (common, circa 2077)
RND/ to cybernetically control one’s breathing and heart rate, and consider the oh-so default (normalized) deadpan Hyper-Capitalist Cyberpunk irony of 2077’s raw videogame pre-order hype (already for purchase on Steam, 10 months before release!)
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Featuring the two dimensional action figure V – as in Vanity – the main pasty ideological front n’ centre face of the franchise, obviously mirroring CD Projekt Red’s hardcore marketing demographic: eternally adolescent whiteboyz, howling for pathological, dickgun-toting cybernetic retro 80’s jerkoff power phantasy in a laughably Dark™, neon-tinged urban setting. Why.. that’s like William Gibson on bad Chinese dog fighting steroids, man – that kinda Super Generic shit sure gets yer’ smart-plastic nads pumped for intense, hot nanomachine style action. Super maximum “New Void Amerika” fuck yeah!
In which ‘the real you’ isn’t enough, apparently – astoundingly non-astoundingly ordinary, mostly apathetic or just plain scared, largely powerless, stuck in some shit dead end job (for some, eg. evil Videogamedev Megacorporation) barely making rent; in Cyberpunk 2077’s toothless ray traced nightmare however you can over ever be entirely Hyperreal – instagib whoever you want without consequence, without mommy telling you off or demanding you come (/evolve!) out of the Gaming Culture basement, living forever through permanently plugging into the undead global System of will-to-domination.
Like a pack of spanner dumb ‘Youtube Influencers’, what’s incredible (and entirely non surprising) is the blind degree to which all relevant protagonists in Cyberpunk 2077 have already completely and uncritically assimilated themselves into the MegaBorg that is modern technological society. Like they were born to be true ‘winners’. (Shame there’s no instantly pluggable, fetishizable biosoft that makes one critically philosophical about one’s world andor worldview. “I’d buy that for a dollar!”, etc.)
Just like GTA V, the mere notion that this game or others like it somehow examine ‘just what it means’ to exist in its cardboard thin universe of casual headshots and smart drugs for storefront dummies – that it’s somehow anything more than an empty corporate ‘commentary’ on.. whatever, seems little but a self-serving, bald faced myth. Like so many others, this game’s rapidly looking to be as nuanced as a ‘second hand cyber-orgasm’. Boys and their toys; high tech, and low brow.
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You’re elevated power and position within such a sick society already and inherently make you a bullying, smug asshole – little more than a soulless walking credit card with legs, and razor arms.. and now you also get to exist as an astoundingly obnoxious dickhead for a thousand Roman Techno-Fascist years as well? Wow, can’t wait for that particular super-banal, doomed future to fully destiny-manifest. GOTY: pre-order today.
Noddin’ heads too hollow, forgotten tomorrow
Swallowing all that shit that’s shallow
Give the baby anything the baby wants
But that’s how them bastards get us up in them caskets
[..] If it ain’t right I don’t give a damn if it’s sellin’
– Public Enemy, Crayola (Atomic Pop Records, 1999)
Utterly hypocritical B.S disclaimer: if freelance theorist Robert What could remotely afford RTX 2080ti in SLI, he’d straight up pre-order this shit for some sweet, 4K 120hz widescreen raytraced cyberpunk consumer vibes.
P.S In which by now you’re basically sick of hearing the word “Cyberpunk.” Basta! What should be just a bad cheesy joke bursting with genuine kitschy potential still seems a perfectly deadly-serious proposition taken entirely at face value by edge-lordy Captain Tryhards who got permanent irony-gland removal surgery at vat-birth.