Meta Gibson: Include words from works based on the work of William Gibson.

Hack the planet!

Congratulations on hacking the Gibson.

I love the idea, but I wish the sentences were capitalized and the dashes were fixed. I think the spaces between dashed elements need to be removed. Right now, I see things like "cyber- neon" or "bomb- ware".

In a similar vein, there's DeLorean Ipsum, which I often use for fake text when mocking up UI: https://satoristudio.net/delorean-ipsum/

Fun idea, but I was hoping it would actually form grammatically correct sentences. Also proper capitalization wouldn't be that hard to implement.

BASE jump

What a coincidence, I just saw Lorem Gibson referenced yesterday. OP did you just read https://mbh4h.substack.com/p/neuromancer-2025-review-william... ?

Lorem Bel-airum - Lyrics of Fresh Prince of Bel-Air _but in Latin_

Cute idea, although I might have gone with Henrik Ibsen.

This here is a real stepping razor

This is great. I will definitely be using this in my next product demo. Chapeau on the idea.

I just tried asking GPT to generate some Gibsonesque filler text, I'll same you the slop reading the slop but I think it did a pretty good job.

What surprised me is that I can kind of guess which novels various words and ideas came from.

I wonder what authors think of things like this.

Where are the verbs?

LLM's have us spoiled. I'd like to see the ouput of something like nanogpt [1] trained on a Gibson corpus. Seems like a lot better looking result should be easy to achieve today.

[1] https://github.com/eniompw/nanoGPTshakespeare

Lorem gypsum dolor sit cement

Love the idea, I immediately went to grok (testing for work) and asked it to give me a few placeholder paragraphs in WG's style:

"The street pulsed with a neon hum, data streams threading through the air like ghost veins in a concrete jungle. Holographic hawkers flickered at the edges of vision, their pitches fragmented by the static of black-market neural rigs. She moved through the crowd, her optic implants slicing through the visual noise, parsing faces for tells of corporate loyalty or freelance desperation. Every step was a negotiation with the city's rhythm, a dance of survival where the wrong move could flatline you in a datastream dead-end.

In the shadow of a megacorp tower, its glass skin reflecting a fractured sky, the air smelled of ozone and recycled dreams. He jacked into a public terminal, his fingers dancing over a haptic deck scarred with use, pulling fragments of encrypted chatter from the dark pools of the net. The data was alive, slippery, coded in dialects of machine and man, whispering secrets of a deal gone sour in some offshore server farm. Trust was a currency nobody carried anymore, not when every connection could be a trojan horse.

She crouched in the alley, her smartcoat shimmering to match the graffiti-smeared wall behind her. The drone overhead was a cheap model, its sensors blind to her cloaking, but she didn’t trust it to stay that way. Tech evolved fast here, and yesterday’s edge was tomorrow’s obsolescence. Her neural feed buzzed with alerts—proximity warnings, encrypted pings from a contact she hadn’t seen since the Osaka run. The city didn’t sleep, and neither did its ghosts, their voices woven into the code that kept this sprawl alive."