Snow Crash is the story of samurai programmer Hiro Protagonist and of youthful skateboard courier Y. T. The two live in a dystopian hyper-corporate future with a rich but commercial simulated online world underlying most of society. Partnering to go into the intelligence business, Hiro and Y. T. run afoul of a scheme to use mind control to reshape society through applications of an ancient language that speaks directly to the human brainstem.
movies
microcode (software)
high-speed pizza delivery
Greatest sword fighter in the world
Stringer, Central Intelligence Corporation
Specializing in software-related intel
(music, moviesµcode)
On the back is gibberish explaining how he may be reached: a telephone number. A universal voice phone locator code. A P.O. box. His address on half a dozen electronic communications nets. And an address in the Metaverse.
"And you wrote the software."
"Yeah. That, too," Hiro says.
"Shut up. For the rest of this conversation, you don't say anything. When I tell you what you did wrong, you don't say you're sorry, because I already know you're sorry. And when you drive outta here alive, you don't thank me for being alive. And you don't even say goodbye to me."
Jason nods.
"I don't even want you to nod, that's how much you annoy me. Just freeze and shut up."
They have parallel-parked their bimbo boxes in identical computer-designed Burbclave street patterns and secreted themselves in symmetrical sheetrock shitholes with vinyl floors and ill-fitting woodwork and no sidewalks….
The only ones left in the city are street people…immigrants…young bohos; and the technomedia priesthood….
Young, smart people like Da5id and Hiro, who take the risk of living in the city because they like stimulation and they know they can handle it.
"Do you believe in Jesus?"
"Yes. But not in the physical, bodily resurrection of Jesus."
"How can you be a Christian without believing in that?"
"I would say," Juanita says, "how can you be a Christian with it? Anyone who takes the trouble to study the gospels can see that the bodily resurrection is a myth that was tacked onto the real story several years after the real histories were written. It's so National Enquirer -esque, don't you think?"
"I thought the Hebrews were monotheists…."
"Monolatrists. They did not deny the existence of other gods.... Asherah was venerated as the consort of Yahweh."
"I don't remember anything about God having a wife in the Bible."
"The Bible didn't exist at that point. Judaism was just a loose collection of Yahwistic cults, each with different shrines and practices."
this area to be a National Sacrifice Zone.
The Sacrifice Zone Program was developed to manage
parcels of land whose clean-up cost exceeds
their total future economic value.
And like all Sacrifice Zone fences, this one has holes in it and is partially torn down in places.
Young men blasted out of their minds on natural and artificial male hormones must have some place to do their idiotic coming-of-age rituals.
Boom. "Correction. They're not headed our way anymore."
Boom. A fireball erupts from the ocean two hundred feet away. "Correction. No boat."
"Whom are you with?"
"You name it, I'm with them."
"I'm sorry?" Like human receptionists, the daemon is especially bad at handling irony.
"At the moment, I think I'm working for the Central Intelligence Corporation, the Mafia, and Mr. Lee's Greater Hong Kong."
"I see," says the receptionist, making a note. Also like a human receptionist, it is not possible to impress her.
"Who are you?" Tony says.
The new guy looks crestfallen. "Greg Ritchie," he says.
Then, when no one seems to react, he jogs their memory. "President of the United States."
"Oh! Sorry. Nice to meet you, Mr. President," Tony says, extending his hand....
"Frank Frost," Frank says, extending his hand and looking bored.
"Don't mind me," Y.T. says, when Ritchie looks her way. "I'm a hostage."
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