DARKMATTERS - The Mind of Matt

You met me at a very strange time in my life...

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Wednesday, August 12, 2026

T R Napper Interview


Matt Adcock (@cleric20)

meets T R Napper (@TRNapper)

With his latest book 'This Machine Kills Billionaires' hot off the press, I got to ask the man himself some questions... Check my review of the book here

Matt: Was This Machine Kills Billionaires born from righteous political anger or ???

T R: Strangely enough I don’t think it was anger, although I can see how a reader might wonder. Obviously, the seed of the story came from current events – oligarchy, dizzying technological progress, and the fusion of the two. But this duo are also core concerns of cyberpunk, and in that way, something I’ve written about throughout my career. 


Matt: Huldo is being taught ethics by people who ultimately want to own, regulate and monetise it. How should / can we control something potentially godlike?


T R: Well we can’t. That’s the whole problem. 


Matt: The book commits the dangerous act of making the reader occasionally think, “Well, perhaps the murder machine has a point.” How much fun was it pushing us across that moral line before making us realise where we were standing?


T R: I’m glad that was your reaction, and I’m glad it made you think. While I have very strong political and ethical convictions, I’m not much interested in beating the reader over the head with them. The most engaging stories, for me, have a certain ambiguity at their heart, and force the reader to think for themselves. 

The thing is, I was pushing myself across that line. I was taking a certain type of moral imperative to its limit, and seeing where I ended up. It’s fair to say there was a certain vicarious pleasure in writing the demise of several (fictional) odious billionaires – but by the same token, the story forces you to think about the difficult questions even this poses. Something that seems quite simple is actually fiendishly complex. 


Matt: Cyberpunk has always been suspicious of corporations, but the real world now appears to be competing aggressively with the genre. Is it getting harder to write dystopian satire?


T R: I don’t think it’s harder to be writing dystopias, because the permutations and evolutions of dystopia are myriad, and they are a fascinating territory to explore. We are living in a timeline that sees us slowing sliding into dystopia, where inch by inch day by day we give up more of ourselves and our autonomy. We’re sleep walking into this future, and I think art is one place we can effectively call this out. 

As for satire, this is certainly harder. How many times have you gone onto social media and wondered if a headline is from The Onion, or a deliberate troll, or real life? 

Distinguishing the real, in general, is becoming much more difficult, I should add. Videos, pictures, text – indeed objective reality – has been shattered and so many are living in their own shards. 


Matt: You’re brilliant at showing that technology rarely destroys everybody equally. The wealthy get immortality, optimisation and private bunkers; everyone else gets an app informing them they’ve been replaced. Can cyberpunk represent against the uber rich?


T R: Thank you. I mean William Gibson said it: the future is already here, it’s just not very evenly distributed. One of the things I’ve felt important in cyberpunk is to explore what the future does to us, and how specific groups of people experience the future differently. 


As a character says in one of the bonus short stories contained in the collection: ‘If you were poor, you suffered the future shock. Your whole world turned upside down. But for the rich, the future was just a news item. Never a shock, not even an inconvenience.


Cyberpunk can certainly call this out, and place it in narrative form, so I suppose that in this sense it can represent. But what changes? I’m not sure, mate, but by god we need to maintain our rage. 


Matt: Huldo can examine morality at a scale and speed humans cannot, but it learns its values from humans, which seems less like education and more like deliberately infecting a new intelligence. Did writing it make you more or less hopeful about AGI?


T R: The vision I have here is of the best possible AGI. It would’ve been easy to show a malicious one, or chromium skeletons with glowing red eyes. But I thought it far more interesting to show a new god that is, at its core, a deeply moral being. The book, I hope, shows the flaws in allowing even the most benevolent of tyrants to gain absolute power. No one being should hold this much power, and yet Silicon Valley and its equivalents across the globe are desperately trying to create the singularity. 

The question of god (in the form of an AGI) forces us – among other things – to consider free will, because here is a god that might deny a choice it doesn’t agree with. A new god, any god, that can actively manifest its will in reality, is terrifying. 


LLMs won’t gain these powers. They are a dead end in terms of the development of AGI. I tend to think it is further away than some currently claim (I still believe true AGI is decades away, at minimum, and do not believe such a creation will ever be self-aware). 



Matt: Imagine Huldo has read your complete back catalogue and is now conducting your ethical performance review. Does T. R. Napper survive and what incriminating evidence does the machine find first?


T R: Oh Huldo would barely glance at me. I was a humanitarian aid worker for a decade, and I’ve working in the disability sector for the last seven years, in addition to my writing. I work also work with military personnel suffering PTSD, in an arts therapy program. 

I’m one of those chumps who’s never motivated by money. A fool who’s never sought to enrich himself at the expense of others. Whatever my numerous flaws, none are of the psychopathic CEO/Dictator strain that would draw the attention of Huldo. 

I’m small fry, and Huldo is only interested in the whales. 


Matt: The stories are angry, but they are not nihilistic. Community, loyalty and small acts of care keep surviving in the wreckage. Do you consciously need that thread of humanity in your work, or does it fight its way in despite your best dystopian efforts?


T R: I’ve always argued that cyberpunk is a humanist literature. So I don’t think I have to do it consciously as such, as I always start from the human. I’m always interested in the human cost of this dizzying technological progress, the consequences of the reckless greed of the ruling class.

My approach, in a way, begins from community, dignity, loyalty, and love, and if it’s angry it’s because I’m angry at what is happening to us, and if it is bleak, it is because our most plausible futures are looking quite bleak. 

Our humanity is worth fighting for. That is the essence of cyberpunk. 


Grab your copies of T R Napper's books and find out more about him here




>>> Imagine a cyberpunk world where the Earth is becoming hell? One man with powers and his robot sidekick might be our only hope... This is high tech / low life meeting the forces of hell!?

Click banner below to hear a FREE 5 mins sample of my audiobook which is becoming a graphic novel too)...

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Complete-Darkness-Darkmatters-Matt-Adcock/dp/0957338775

Friday, August 07, 2026

Matt gets The Shards through the heart (review)

 

THE SHARDS (or Everybody’s Gorgeous, Everybody’s Lying and Somebody’s Killing People)…


Reviewed by Matt Adcock (@cleric20)


“It’s getting a little tense in here… maybe we should hot-tub it?”


I absolutely loved The Shards novel, I read it on The Orient Express last year.

It’s an obsessive, queasy love. I’m a Bret Easton Ellis lifer anyway, yes, all of it, even the stuff people like to wave away  but The Shards hit especially hard, this vast sun-drenched paranoid fever memory of being young, rich-adjacent, horny, terrified and convinced that the beautiful new guy at school might actually be a serial killer. Or he might not. Which is worse really because once Bret starts joining the dots you start joining them too and soon everybody is suspect and Los Angeles itself feels like it’s watching you through mirrored Ray-Bans.


it's the '80s bitch...


Ryan Murphy can do immaculate depravity almost better than anyone alive… The Shards needs glamour, obviously, but it needs the rot underneath it even more. Thankfully this feels like Murphy finding exactly the right frequency again. Everything is ridiculously gorgeous: the cars, pools, bodies (both male and female), shirts, impossible California skies, houses nobody I knew at school lived in over here in the UK but there’s a thin smear of dread over absolutely everything. Like Less Than Zero got infected by Michael Mann’s Manhunter.


Igby Rigney makes a convincing young Bret, which is no small thing because he has to be simultaneously arrogant, frightened, observant, manipulative, secretive, horny and probably wrong about half of what he thinks he knows. He’s watching everybody whilst also constantly worrying that somebody is watching him. I really liked that the performance doesn’t try to make him particularly cuddly either. This is Ellis-world, nobody needs redeeming for the audience. People behave badly, have complicated sex, say stupid things, lie to each other, then drive home in magnificent cars.


music videos are going to be big...


And then Robert Mallory arrives. Oh Robert, you magnificent wanker. Homer Gere plays him with that vital quality the book absolutely depends on… you can understand instantly why everyone would want him around whilst simultaneously wanting someone to check his basement. He’s beautiful in a slightly unreal way, like somebody generated the perfect private-school boyfriend minus a soul. Bret’s decision-making throughout the novel ribs the jock itch of the tight-trousered sex gods and the show follows suit admirably!!


The Trawler killings give the series its nasty propulsion and they are grim, think Hannibal tableaus (one corpse has a girl whose breasts have been cut off and replaced with dead cats heads…) but I still don’t really think The Shards is “about” a serial killer. That’s just the lurid hook. What Ellis got me with in the book, and what this unexpectedly gets right too, is the horrible sadness of looking backwards at a time when you didn’t know what was coming. These kids are driving around LA doing drugs, shagging whoever they shouldn’t, worrying about parties and relationships and who likes who, believing this is simply what life is now. Meanwhile we’re watching from the future knowing AIDS is coming, knowing adulthood is coming, knowing that almost none of these friendships will survive in the form they currently imagine. It gives the stupid teenage stuff a ghostly edge that I loved.


That’s where the soundtrack absolutely kills too. Murphy knows what music can do to memory and deploys it shamelessly, sometimes almost ridiculously, but I’m powerless against this sort of thing. The book gives you songs and bands to check out, e.g. I found Icehouse whose ‘Great Southern Land’ cos it’s Bret and Susan’s favourite track and now they are a fav of mine too …


So give me an empty LA road at night, some expensive sadness, a synth line and a beautiful person making an obviously catastrophic emotional decision and it’s like David Lynch is back. There are moments here that feel less like scenes than memories from a life I absolutely did not live, which sounds daft written down but that’s The Shards all over. Ellis somehow makes nostalgia for someone else’s fucked-up adolescence contagious.



Is it exactly the book? No, although he starts line for line but things shift, things compress, Murphy Murphy-fies certain moments and occasionally you can feel him admiring his own gorgeousness for a beat too long. 


The important bits survived: the head fucking uncertainty. Is Robert genuinely dangerous or has Bret turned attraction, jealousy and fear into an enormous private conspiracy? How much of what we’re seeing can we trust? How much does Bret himself believe? The novel leaves those questions buzzing around your skull - like a trapped fly trying to burrow its way out through your eyeballs… and the series manages the same nasty trick.


Also Kaia Gerber is great as Susan, especially because Susan has to represent something almost impossible for Bret, normality, friendship, desire, history, possibly love, possibly just the idea of the life he thinks he should want. The whole friendship group gradually cracking apart feels convincing rather than merely plotty, and once suspicion gets into the bloodstream there’s something grimly enjoyable about watching every tiny interaction become potential evidence.


I know there will be viewers who find it slow. They are not wrong, exactly. It iskinda slow. It likes hanging around. It likes expensive rooms and cigarettes and glances and people saying something ordinary while clearly meaning something else. I happen to love that. I don’t need a body every fifteen minutes. Give me paranoia. Give me unreliable memory. Give me LA looking like heaven whilst somebody screams somewhere just beyond the swimming pool.



I’m admittedly protective of a novel I love and fully prepared to be That Guy muttering “well actually…” at the screen. Instead, somewhere along the way, it got me.

The sunshine, the sex, the dread, the stupid beautiful doomed teenagers, the suspicion that everybody knows something Bret doesn’t.


Ryan Murphy has made The Shards pretty much exactly as it existed in my head, what a tasty bastard!!


Out of a potential 5, you have to go with a Darkmatters:

ööööö

(55 suspiciously perfect Robert Mallory smiles out of 5..)


>>> Imagine a cyberpunk world where the earth is becoming hell? One man with powers and his robot sidekick might be our only hope... This is high tech / low life meeting the forces of hell!?

Click banner below to hear a FREE 5 mins sample of my audiobook which is becoming a graphic novel too)...

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Complete-Darkness-Darkmatters-Matt-Adcock/dp/0957338775

Friday, July 31, 2026

Matt discovers that This Machine Kills Billionaires


Matt discovers that This Machine Kills Billionaires…

and possibly your remaining faith in the future too!?


T. R. Napper (Doctor of Cyberpunk)


Reviewed by Matt Adcock (@Cleric20)


This Machine Kills Billionaires lands with all the subtlety of a cybernetic fist coming through the reinforced window of a private space yacht, and it demands your attention!


As a fan of TR Napper's work including Neon Leviathan, 36 Streets, Ghost of the Neon God, and The Escher Man - I was excited to get my hands on his new work: a collection of cyber tech-revenge fantasy…


This is a book that will burrow into your brain while you are enjoying the story, then start quietly rearranging your synapses.


At the black heart of the collection is The Hidden God, in which philosopher Izanami ‘Izzy’ Jones is employed to teach ethics to Huldo, the world’s first genuine Artificial General Intelligence. Because apparently the ultra-rich have finally decided that creating a digital god capable of transforming civilisation might require somebody to tick the morality box before unleashing it.

Gotta read em all!


Good thinking, lads. Nothing could possibly go wrong.


Izzy approaches the job with the weary resignation of somebody who knows she has largely been hired as intellectual window dressing. Her employer does not really want an ethical machine; he wants his machine officially declared ethical so he can own it, monetise it and presumably stick a subscription tier on human destiny.


So what if removing one person could save thousands? What if that person knowingly profits from suffering? What if the machine can prove not only what they have done, but what they will do next? It’s a fun premise!!


This is where Napper really gets his augmented claws in. The premise could easily have become a cold exercise in cleverness, with Ethicsbot presenting Trolley Problem 2.0 while various humans stroke their chins and look concerned. Instead, it becomes an increasingly tense collision between moral theory and actual blood.


It is exhilarating, horrifying and guiltily satisfying, because Napper knows exactly where the reader’s sympathies are likely to go when the targets are obscenely wealthy men whose fortunes rest on misery. Then, just as you start becoming a little too comfortable with the arrangement, he twists the blade.


Napper writes cyberpunk without treating it like a fancy-dress party. There is no desperate need to keep pointing at the neon, polishing the chrome or announcing that somebody has a cool coat. The punk matters here. The anger matters. This is fiction about who gets crushed beneath technological progress and, more importantly, who owns the machinery doing the crushing.


Highway Requiem takes us onto the Australian roads with a truck driver and his dog, Roxy. It is quiet erosion of somebody’s livelihood, dignity and place in the world. While automation rarely announces itself as an agent of the apocalypse, it’s just replacing us and the road will continue to be travelled without you.


Burned Like Coal is furious and tragic, following young people who have concluded that polite protest is simply another noise the system has learned to ignore. There is an AI, there are explosives, and there are choices being made by people who feel the future has already been stolen from them. This is a future on fire and you’ll be left with scorch marks :).


Then Jack’s Fine Dining delivers something different again: community, hunger and human decency surviving in the cracks of a brutal society. Napper understands that feeding people can become a revolutionary act when the system is designed to let them starve.


That might be what holds the collection together. Not simply artificial intelligence or dystopian technology, but resistance in the classic high tech / low life vibe. Who gets labelled a terrorist while somebody destroying entire communities is described as an entrepreneur? When the existing rules protect only those who wrote them, what exactly does ethical behaviour look like?

Napper does not give easy answers…


The result is compact, angry, thrilling and worryingly plausible. I have been a fan of Napper’s work for some time, and had the joy of chatting to him on Hosts in the Shell recently (which only confirmed that he is indeed the real deal when it comes to cyberpunk!!).


AI evangelists promise liberation while corporations calculate how many humans they can remove from the payroll. Climate catastrophe accelerates while the people profiting from it buy increasingly elaborate bunkers. The people building our future often appear to be precisely those who should not be allowed anywhere near it. Sounds a bit familiar yeah?


This Machine Kills Billionaires is excellent cyberpunk of the highest order… Whip smart without being smug, loaded with political thinking and packing tasty violence too.


Napper has not just built a machine that kills billionaires but one that probably already knows what you are thinking.


COMPLY?

Out of a potential 5, you have to go with a Darkmatters:

ööööö

(5 - Revolutionary cyberpunk that engages the brain, the conscience and more...)


>>> Imagine a cyberpunk world where the earth is becoming hell? One man with powers and his robot sidekick might be our only hope... This is high tech / low life meeting the forces of hell!?

Click banner below to hear a FREE 5 mins sample of my audiobook which is becoming a graphic novel too)...

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Complete-Darkness-Darkmatters-Matt-Adcock/dp/0957338775

Trainspotting: The Musical (review)

Trainspotting: The Musical 

Matt Adcock (@Cleric20)


Choose erm…


Trainspotting is one of my favourite novels. The film sits in my all-time top ten. I wanted this to work far more than I expected. 


And there’s no shortage of talent on stage. The cast absolutely commit, the energy never drops and there are moments when you catch a glimpse of the raw humanity that made Irvine Welsh’s story such a phenomenon.


Unfortunately, it just never really catches fire and even the songs borrowed from the film soundtrack only serve to make you remember how much better that is...


Anyone wanna put T2 on?


Yeah the music. Trainspotting has always had music pumping through its veins, from Welsh’s writing to Boyle’s legendary soundtrack. Here though, the original songs rarely land and even the cover versions feel oddly like karaoke; competent, enthusiastic even, but never dangerous or memorable.


Maybe that’s what I missed most: the sense of danger.


The book feels like the best punch in the mouth you'll ever get. The film practically vibrates with reckless ‘90s energy and even T2: Trainspotting is poignant and heartbreaking as it pours over 'what might have been'. 


This production is much more polite than either. It wants to move you, but too often stops to explain itself when the story was always powerful enough to do that alone. 


The best bits here are when the cast are not singing - which is a problem when it's a musical...


I genuinely admire everyone involved. There’s a huge amount of work, talent and heart on that stage. I just came away wishing they’d trusted Welsh’s story a little more… and the songs a little less.


Choose life?


I’m still choosing the novel & film…


My comic characters in the iconic poses...

Out of a potential 5, you have to go with a Darkmatters:

öö

(2 - lacking a lust for life...)

My review / ranking of Irvine Welsh's:



>>> Imagine a world where the earth is becoming hell? One man with powers and his robot sidekick might be our only hope...

Click banner below to hear a FREE 5 mins sample of my audiobook which is becoming a graphic novel too)...

https://www.amazon.co.uk/Complete-Darkness-Darkmatters-Matt-Adcock/dp/0957338775