#Cyberpunk is a sub-genre of science fiction literature, and burst forth from the jaded ideologies of foreseeing literati predecessors. Philip K. Dick, afflicted and penniless Gnostic that he was, is accredited with the most adaptations to major films including Minority Report, A Scanner Darkly, two versions of Total Recall based loosely on a short story entitled “We Can Remember It For You Wholesale,” and Blade Runner transposed from the novel “Do Androids Dream Of Electric Sheep.” For this reason, PKD can be ascribed the honorary title of “grandfather of cyberpunk.”
WIlliam Gibson is thereby accredited with the subsequent title of “father of cyberpunk” for such literary masterpieces as “Neuromancer” and “Burning Chrome” from which Hollywood extrapolated enough material for Johnny Mnemonic.
The vision was one of cyber-jockies cruising the datastream and plugging viscerally into a neural network of bits and bytes, going on milkruns for other data or the dead ghost of hackers uploaded into a digital artifact. Corporations overrun the planet and the police are instruments of corruption for the king dollar, or credits, as the money is converted in the near-future. Drugs, crime, prostitution, and violence are regularities on the ground-level, where the accumulate filth of pollution and villainy piles up to form a sort of crust illuminated by the myriad neon lights that line the bustling, dirty streets. Vid-screens ubiquitously whisper promises from the corporations and off-world travel agencies, offering some sort of reprieve from the doomed existence of surface life. Meanwhile, great power is held in the lofty skyscrapers by businessmen and crimelords alike who do their best to protect their assets from the hacker who thwarts their empire from some lonely terminal cursor blinking–blinking into dilated pupils.