“As I phased into mode, they accelerated gradually until their Day-Glo-feathered crowns became solid arcs of color. The LEDS that told seconds on the plastic wall clock had become meaningless pulsing grids, and Molly and the Mao-faced boy grew hazy, their arms blurring occasionally in insect-quick ghosts of gesture. And then it all faded to cool gray static and an endless tone poem in an artificial language.”

Johnny’s description of entering the subliminal delta state exemplifies Gibson’s depiction of the interface between humans and technology. The advanced nature of the technology is efficiently suggested through neologisms and jargon, like “phased into mode” and “pulsing grids.” At the same time, Gibson attunes the reader to the aesthetic experience of this interface by using figurative language, from calling movements “insect-quick ghosts of gesture” to calling the static a “tone poem,” a genre term ordinarily used in the realm of classical music.

“The mall runs forty kilometers from end to end, a ragged overlap of Fuller domes roofing what was once a suburban artery. If they turn off the arcs on a clear day, a gray approximation of sunlight filters through layers of acrylic, a view like the prison sketches of Giovanni Piranesi. The three southernmost kilometers roof Nighttown.”

“Johnny Mnemonic” gives readers a vivid sense of the landscape of the Sprawl, which is the story’s backdrop (as well as other stories, like “Burning Chrome”). The mention that a shopping area alone extends 40 kilometers provides a sense of the enormous scale of the Sprawl without directly stating how large it is. Likewise, details like the mention of the “approximation of sunlight” filtering through domes that cover the city suggest that the urban setting of “Johnny Mnemonic” is dark, dirty, and artificial.