# play together nicely now logging onto zombie survival post cyberpunk sci fi via fellow researcher henry swanson lab door pseudocode keys: counter strike / deaders / zombie survival / online electronic entertrainment intro to being undead the following describes experiences of logging on one day in may to take part in a hardcore urban zombie survival classic psycho playspace modification one begins by describing the time spent with the plain vanilla electrotainment space before jumping right in to the repo intense undead action adventure that is huzs hardcore urban zombie survival 1/ a couch potato with a nine you'd played an unmodded version of this several years before a fascinating infectious digital microcosm for rapid growth of all kinds of offbeat mass minded behaviors that writer and visionary jg ballard terms recreational psychopathology while major kusanagi prefers to call them a stand alone complex playspaces which often feel as much a mass scale scientific simulation as tactical first person zombie survival shooter another odd new social networking tool used by a large dysfunctional pink skinned new clear family from the future yet we play real rough and in such vacuous non places are almost always horrid little rat holes to one another where what little fair play exists is only ever temporary and highly provisional you'd already seen the interview with the developer who'd created the original modification one was reminded of a younger version of classic action movie director john woo sitting there talking quietly to the cameras like nobody would never suspect what they did for a living such a quiet person said the neighbors it's like they lived within their computers and it was as though they didn't believe the outside world even existed that there was never once any real attempt to touch gr/ass now it seemed all wars were turning virtual graphical scenes of wholesale digitally mediated slaughter all instantly downloadable as a channel zero style turkey shoot 2/ we'd only just met it was first time shooting at another virtual being stopped the existence of a random digital for intense bioelectronic fun logging onto a playspace server you gotta wonder who all this tech more truly serves the match begins and there's only two of you on the entire map you spent too much time messing with the bmd/tm buy manly duck tools menu your opponent was already half way around the map headed in your direction before you even start moving into strategic dis position a credibly complex dystopian grocery list for the global gunheaded shopper to consider so much choice at a price that's right too maximum amerika mode now let's see what do we need today large can o cheez wee / three tins of extra chunky no brand meat flavor chilli magic 8 ball / giant glow in dark carrot / waterproof sticking plasters sweet packet of thick purple crayons / high automatic deff tool non proof vest and several micro black hole grenades all anyone needs to get a party started right and away we go go go you run up a flight of stairs and around the corner uh oh there they are you startle one another and for a split second there's a pause full of unspoken potential meaning neither of you moving a pixel a single silent blip of digital indecision and electronic doubt you don't have long to not think cyberpunk as a good head click as they say in 4th sector downtown a single index mouse trigger finger twitch and kapow a single echoing crack of heavy recoil their lifeless virtual body ragdolls to the cold stone castle rampart floor with mild splatter then nothing as they immediately log off first cursing you out over the cracking voice comms channel an odd hot whistling sound as though they were a steel yard construction worker called biff who discovered their pastrami and rye stolen from the collective office shed fridge for the third time that week you laugh nervously and after minute or so alone on server reach down to to pull the plug on the machine you walk downstairs to make cup of coffee and skim eclipse by john shirley unsure how you should feel about this whole playspace shard you sit there in the kitchen alone staring out over endless url eye morning suburban rooftops eventually you try to state out loud what you'd done: holy synthetic birth vat nightmares flatman we blasted a random virtual face willfully iced them for porpoises of quality online electrotrainment despite the cheap dopamine rush still coursing through veins one still feels kinda blank inside empty of clearly recognizable humalien emotion a couple of days later one is playing the exact same scenario for several hours non stop the only times one gets up now are to go to the toilet make cups of rollins strength coffee downstairs andor eat large volumes of cheesy snacklets from oversized silver space packets seriously addicted to full time online deff in name of metadigital recreation this videographic playspace rules that is over you for the first week half after one's gory intro one adores playing out this new role of hot digital thriller with a bunch of other deliriously happy random researchers surfing around online with desperate casualness to find anything fun to do one begins however to notice a change in or rather natural synthetic evolution of online personality one starts to immediately get angry at the virtual enemy for winning and often feels the existential blood pressure rising nobody wants to be the wet behind ears scrub noob looser only a super sweaty tryhard a real quote winner so one persists with misplaced efforts and after five weeks gets pretty good ratios as they say in the military post industrial scientific entertainment hyper control complex all is good and right with the little biowired world when a win's a win and that's all that counts baby even though nobody in the real world server gives a shed and the other two players are currently jebus posing and seem continually away from keyboard // [[republic of bob contents | imaginary pastime republic of bob]]