Emlyn wrote:
>
> ...who wants to be stuck with the neuro-jack equivalent of Betamax?
"His mother would be back from Boston by now, had to be, or else
she'd miss one of her favorite soaps. New hole in her head. She
was crazy anyway, nothing wrong with the socket she'd had
since before he was born, but she'd been whining for years
about static and resolution and sensory bleedover, so she'd
finally swung the credit to go to Boston for some cheapass
replacement. Kind of place where you don't even get an
appointment for an operation. Walk in and they just slap it in
your head. . . . He knew her, yeah, how she'd come through
the door with a wrapped bottle under her arm, not even take
her coat off, just go straight over and jack into the Hitachi,
soap her brains out good for six solid hours. Her eyes would
unfocus, and sometimes, if it was a really good episode
she'd drool a little."
-- William Gibson, _Count Zero_
Jim F.
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