I do not wish to "rule the streets" of Megacity West, dear creators of Airframe Ultra. I wish to be ravished by them, rubbing my face against the rusty corrugated metal of the shipping containers, and savouring the acid blue waters of the bay. I do not want to "become the one thing with freedom in a city of billions: A racer." I want to become the other thing with freedom in a city of billions: a person who slowly drives or – whisper it - walks around just looking at stuff, because gadzooks, this is one of the prettiest PS1 cyberpunk burgs I've laid eyes on.
Those eroded pastel chevrons. Those seductively wobbling vertices. That electric reef of a downtown backdrop, murderously luring your gaze from the on-coming trucks. That layer of invigorating crackle over everything. Every moment or so, I dismount from my hoverbike to inspect some concrete ruin I could swear I last saw in G-Police, or ponder the resemblance between a subway tunnel and WipEout 2097's Gare d'Europa. Then, somebody waps me in the skull with a stop sign at 300 kilometres an hour. But I was already stopped, frantic stranger! Your brutal poetic ironies are wasted on me.