a man loses his way in the vast black waste of his own small room; the Eiffel Tower runs amok; a kind soul dreams of selling “everything you need for suicide”; an absentminded passenger boards the wrong train, winding up in a place where night is day, nightmares are the reality, and the backs of all facts have been broken; a man out looking for work comes across a line for logic but doesn’t join it as there’s no guarantee the logic will last; a sociable corpse misses his own funeral; an inventor gets a glimpse of the far-from-radiant communist future.
Or Moby Donk, Simon Reynolds would enjoy that.
Blindsight and echopraxia by Peter Watts - snowcrash level sci-fi infodump set about 100 years in the future ostensibly about alien contact but primarily concerned with potential biological and neurological futures of humanity with a surprisingly thorough subtext touching on consciousness theory, philosophy of the mind and brain hacking.
I could not remain isolated from the rest of the world. I was involved in the fate of the planet, I had to take an active part in whatever was going on. The endless celebrations here seemed both boring and sinister, reminiscent of the orgies of the plague years. Now, as then, people were deluding themselves; they induced a false sense of security by means of self-indulgence and wishful thinking.I did not beleive for one moment that they had really escaped.
I observed the weather carefully; it was fine and warm, but not warm enough.I noticed particularly how the temperature fell after sunset, producing a definite chill. It was a bad sign.