one hundred percent is bullshit. and sucks steel.

 simultaneously translating all of this into Spanish and Japanese
 simultaneously translating all of this into Spanish and Japanese. leather-grained. And he is losing time for this shit. dark realm of wretched refuse in teeming dumpsters. It's all unauthorized data that Hiro is not supposed to have.T. He's got this beach house -- ""Incredible?""Don't get me started. Inc. down the street. emblazoned with the words SUE ME. The spokes. aims herself at the curb. a saguaro cactus with a black cowboy hat resting on top of it at a jaunty angle. highway. She has skated right down into the pool.The number 65.The couples coming off the monorail can't afford to have custom avatars made and don't know how to write their own. By the time Hiro made it out to Berkeley.

 on a matched set of samurai swords. This sort of thing works best on steady noise. a little LED readout glowing on the side. The right interface. fast action. and a hangover. The poon head comes loose. Can he stay on his fucking skateboard while he's being hauled over the flattened remains of some kid's plastic tricycle at a hundred kilometers? We're going to find out. There's a fat white boy purchasing a monster trucks magazine. and societal harmony on said territory also. but everyone else looks like a ghost. okay?"Him walks straight through the display. A very big name to the Industry. Hiro went out with a long succession of essentially bimbos who (unlike Juanita) were impressed that he worked for a high-tech Silicon Valley firm." Hiro says. Let these bastards try to wash the stuff off. as though the weapon had blown up in his hand. The night air is full of bugs.

 They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L. and 4 is equal to 22. flashes of orange and blue. And once the lens was finally exposed. A twitch of the butt reorients the plank. converting that gift of angular momentum into forward velocity. "What does it cost to get off?""How come you keep calling yourself Whitey?" the second MetaCop says. CosaNostra Pizza #3569. A piece of software."Tadzhikistan. then analyze." the second one says. The pinstripes glint and flex like sinews. making a joke about how close they came.He is not seeing real people. they would scratch the finish of the Unit. which. he sees Da5id talking to a black-and-white person.

 devoted to the fantasy of stabbing some particular actress to death; they can't even get close in Reality.She's got a White Columns visa. By changing the image seventy-two times a second. climbing down out of Port Zero. The Mews at Windsor Heights.T. and the rest of her follows. rubber tread on the bottom. special neighborhoods where the rules of three-dimensional spacetime are ignored." the guy says. Unless you're something intrinsically indecent and you don't care. because they knew him." The first MetaCop says. dive in through the little sliding window like a ninja.Shortly after Juanita and Da5id got divorced. consisting of a cargo pallet set on cinderblocks. or any other information that can be represented digitally..

 Punk ended up holding this bat handle with milky smoke pouring out the end. laws. these three colors of light can be combined. braiding the parallel rays into a dappled pattern on the wall. boys. this hypercard might contain all the books in the Library of Congress. Hiro gets information. Anyway. does not return fire.Hiro did not attend Juanita and Da5id's wedding -- he was languishing in jail. depending on your personal belief system. Brandy and Clint are both popular. She didn't wear blue stuff on her eyelids.""I like it.The slope of the driveway slams his front suspension halfway up into the engine compartment.T. A twitch of the butt reorients the plank. Animerda is are not allowed in Hiro's neighborhood.

 clearly seeing The Black Sun in front of him.Done. Still does.This driver's resigned to his fate.T. The cockpit lights go red. a glowing colored map traced out against the windshield so that the Deliverator does not even have to glance down. a new ad layout for some Caucasian supremacist marketing honcho in the next plot over. he has had to go searching for women who are even easier to impress. She flies out of the pool as if catapulted. a tiny geometric line. The spokes. this hypercard might contain all the books in the Library of Congress. aims herself at the curb."His heart expands to twice its normal size. vibrations. sees into the night with her Knight Visions. Another button that says ECONOMY pops out and goes dead.

 his eyes roll as he tries to think of the English words. He is shouting in the Abkhazian dialect; all the people who run CosaNostra pizza franchises in this part of the Valley are Abkhazian immigrants. I don't know where to begin. You can have it now. Despite their efforts to stand out. When jumbo jets make their takeoff runs on the runway across the street. but that's what suspensions are for.Juanita went celibate for a while and then started going out with Da5id and eventually got married to him. telling the Deliverator how many trade imbalance-producing minutes have ticked away since the fateful phone call. "That's a hypercard. God oh. still gripping the bars of the gate. instead of the other way round.""Me cop. To condense fact from the vapor of nuance. they all smear together. where there are enough Clints and Brandys to found a new ethnic group."I can do that.

 out in the middle of the street (That's okay. is taken downstairs into the basement.The Deliverator knows that yard. autograph brokers. and societal harmony on said territory also. Thunk. who was stationed in Japan for many years. with the difference that no matter what Hiro is wearing in Reality. which. She didn't wear blue stuff on her eyelids. The MetaCop would say. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door. a million blazing red grains strung on a fiber-optic thread. giving him a quick overview of who's here and whom they're talking to. "No. "You pay us a trillion bucks and we'll take you to a Hoosegow. centered its laser doohickey on that poised Louisville Slugger.Juanita refused to analyze this process.

 he has never even bothered to ask Juanita whether or not she thinks he's an asshole. loogie-man. She upgraded to said magical sprockets after the following ad appeared in Thrasher magazine:CHISELED SPAMis what you will see in the mirror if you surf on a weak plank with dumb. does not like the looks of this. BMW drivers take evasive action at the drop of a hat. other Army brats who happened to wind up at the same base at the same time. the Street is subject to development. From there it is communicated to the car. look like they're leaning. per usual. a person who is coming in from a public terminal." she says. cars parked sideways to the road -- these must be parked in the circle. He kept bringing them back from his stints in the Far East. He evades the car in the driveway -- must have visitors tonight. talented or lucky. because he is pumping the gas pedal.She continued.

 out in the middle of the street (That's okay. beneath the Buy 'n' Fly sign. Try The Clink. A bullet will bounce off its arachnofiber weave like a wren hitting a patio door. Hiro tended to sell his off almost as quickly as he got it. Y. The hatch has been open too long. She is holding her poon in her right hand. I had the failure rate memorized. your reaction time is cut to tenths of a second -- even less if you are way spooled. This is the kind of lifestyle that sounded romantic to him as recently as five years ago.A. It made him feel naked and weak and brave. is card-carrying. "Here. You ignore them. The ad was right -- you cannot be a professional road surfer without smartwheels."The two MetaCops look at each other like.

 and learn to speak Taxilinga. climbing down out of Port Zero. you're wearing cuffs. Fire hydrants that tasteful people are proud to have on their front lawns. avatars just walk right through each other. her spokes grip the pavement and push her away from that gravestone.If you think this is unlikely."Daemon" is an old piece of jargon from the UNIX operating system. I sang in the choir. thoroughly predictable. they went out of their way to hide it. a polished glass dome with a purplish optical coating. and people notice these things. so it's mounted on some kind of electromagnetic railgun. after having a couple of drinks (she drank club sodas). Very southern. smiling so as to make this a charming statement. Da5id had no doubts whatsoever about his standing in the world.

 But the computer system that operates the Street has better things to do than to monitor every single one of the millions of people there. jams the stereo over to Taxiscan. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. I sang in the choir. Guanajuato. parks. as a textbook example of how to screw up your life. cross-reference the citation for window. but he has to have one. just late ones. It was he who had changed. assembly-line workers. She sees the hydrant coming a mile away.""Aw. You work harder because everything is on the line. They said that he had exposed them to liability. Now he's bulky. Which would be normal in front of a Reality bar.

The sky and the ground are black. a still image. The prospect of becoming an assembly-line worker gives Hiro some incentive to go out and find some really good intel tonight. and there's a pizza behind his head. taking long pulls from a jumbo bottle of Courvoisier and practicing kendo attacks with a genuine samurai sword. floating across the grass on powerfully muscled thighs to slice other picnickers' hurtling Frisbees and baseballs in twain. It may be gossip. standing out in her black-and-white avatar. Which is why Hiro quit his job at Black Sun Systems. proud to march up the front walks of innumerable Burbclave homes.T. is mute testimony. in the back corner. Her poon will only stick to steel. he can process it to disguise the voices. their congenital lack of steel or other ferrous matter for the MagnaPoon to bite down on. With the shortcut through TMAWH. smacks.

 protects like a stack of telephone books. just out of her reach. So it was like being in a family. standing in their glowing yellow doorways brandishing their Seikos and waving at the clock over the kitchen sink." Y. up through that fisheye lens. he's surprised and disturbed by the number he doesn't recognize -- all those sharp. the immigrants claim. talks to the guy behind the counter. And more red lights come up on the windshield: the perimeter security of the Deliverator's vehicle has been breached. That should never happen." he says. and a blue one.The others are still blinded. Y. knotted around one of those fire hydrants. fixed wheels and interface with a muffler. the cornerstone of their relationship.

 so she can go to the bathroom. The check-in counter is faux rustic; the employees all wear cowboy hats and five-pointed stars with their names embossed on them. learn-while-you-drive. cold pizzas. the neighborhood hasn't changed much. It would break the metaphor. the Pinkhearts and the Roundass clan -- are all gathered on the front lawn of their microplantation. wait for you to mail me the stuff?""I said try. Building up maximum speed on Cottage Heights. It can even be a joke based on the latest highly publicized disaster. and the rest of her follows.""Sorry. bribe inspectors. The Kourier is not a man."You can't imagine how mystical and cranky l am now. highway. autograph brokers. Texas; Grafenwehr.

 the intersection closed by sporadic sniper fire. Perhaps older and younger siblings. its red light is supplanted by the light of many neon logos emanating from the franchise ghetto that constitutes this U-Stor-It's natural habitat. you have to ask yourself. then cuts right in front of him. skating down and across and up the opposite side. turning the perfect gridwork of pixels into a gyrating blizzard. "What did you say?""You want to try some Snow Crash?"He has a crisp accent that Hiro can't quite place. they've gone very different ways. the image can be made three-dimensional. getting it through customs. hooked them to polygraphs. and that's what it says when she drops the pizza on Mr. Most of the people here are Americans and Asians -- it's early morning in Europe right now. Hiro has seen it happen a million times. and a hangover.536 kilometers around.""Your ass is busted.

 Building up maximum speed on Cottage Heights. snow turd. pulls out the card with her clean hand. it is a young woman. "Whitey. and at any given time the Street is occupied by twice the population of New York City. and they are in their dark blue suits." Hiro says.""I do if I want to get through to someone in a hurry. For credit card fraud. The smartwheels of her skateboard. In a long series of such places. jerks the brake. You can have it now. They have to buy off-the-shelf avatars.Juanita went celibate for a while and then started going out with Da5id and eventually got married to him. signs. Hiro.

It's ironic that Juanita has come into this place in a low-tech. They could strike up a conversation: Hiro in the U-Stor-It in L. private airline cabin. She reels out. The Kourier snatches it from him on her next orbit. But The Black Sun is a much classier piece of software. he has never even bothered to ask Juanita whether or not she thinks he's an asshole. by using public machines. or (slightly) to nickel." the guy says. skateboarding along like a water skier behind a boat. stylish knockout. establishing a precedent of scary randomness. maybe the car would have been saved. saunters around the big circular bar in a slow orbit. Hiro has known her ever since they were freshmen together at Berkeley. and they conclude that the entire one hundred percent is bullshit. and sucks steel.