What the fuck happened to my rebelliousness? I remember my first approaches to this literary genre from the pen of Bruce Sterling and his work Cismatrix, always accompanied by the old and beat up cassette of the Black Flags. I didn’t know English, but the rhythm was consistent with the reading.
It was the mid-80s and I went from reading Jules Verne’s science fiction in an encyclopedia of selections from my dad’s Reader’s Digest to getting to know this dystopian view of society that seemed most entertaining to me at 9 years old.
What could be more punk than demanding “land, shelter, food, independence, freedom and justice” from the south of the country?
Years later, my perspective was diluted towards a punk rock scene that, although it showed the same disillusionment in society and fight against alienation, focused more on the social marginalization of the weird kids in the neighborhood.
And although most of my anger with society was still there, every day it became more political, or politically correct to the point of considering the First Declaration of the Lacandon Jungle, in that distant 1994, as the most challenging action to the system. What could be more punk than demanding “land, shelter, food, independence, freedom and justice” from the south of the country?
Today, the most cyberpunk I have left is to report posts on Twitter for their obscene content or never like those videos of kittens that everyone loves on Facebook; but always accompanied by my Dr. Martens boots.
Beyond posters in “Chispas” (video game venues in the neighborhoods) Where were those images of the cinema where, hand in hand with films like Blade Runner, Videodrome or Hardware, hypertechnological societies constantly fought in search of a break with the system?
After a few years, the world exploded with the film Matrix, by the brothers, now Wachowski sisters, where a part of that cyberpunk world that attracted me so much was shown, although very much in the “gringo” style. Simply “palomera” or popcorn movie.
Gone are the years where my fight against that fucking shitty society would take place from some space outside this planet, between dark walls, dusty streets, between badly faced hackers, artificial intelligence and cyborgs.
Today, the most cyberpunk I have left is to report posts on Twitter for their obscene content or never like those videos of kittens that everyone loves on Facebook; but always accompanied by my Dr. Martens boots.
“I came to Mexico City because they told me that my father, a certain Juan Vaca, lived here. My mother Teresa García told me”.
I am a Chilango grateful for public education. I graduated from Journalism at National Autonomous University of Mexico (UNAM) and since 1998, I decided to stop living in error, although with brief lapses in the written press and radio.
I have always voted for the left politics, and no, I have not been disenchanted with AMLO.
