fine whine

Here it is the year 2004 already, and dammit, where are the flying cars? This is the future, isn't it? Evidently I need to resort to science fiction to get my future fix, as I have recently read Norman Spinrad's Little heroes and the first story arc of Warren Ellis's Transmetropolitan series of comics. Each is a vision of the not-too-distant future and each presents a vision of the streets of New York. That's just a setting, though; one's about rock and roll and the other about freedom, truth and violence. Sort of.

What's funny to me is that it is the novelist, not the comic book guy, who is all hung up on sex (particularly its oral variants). Then again, the mantra is sex, drugs and rock and roll, so I suppose it goes with the territory.