It is 2014. Scottish writer Cara Ellison offers to pay me $100 to drive down to Los Angeles to write an essay about the Electronic Entertainment Expo. Having little or no money in my pockets, and nothing particular to interest me on shore, I get in my decommissioned police car and rip down there at a hundred miles an hour with a bag of Adderall and mushrooms. I sleep in the trunk of my car in Silver Lake. In the morning I head to the LA Convention Center to bear witness to it all. I am denied entry into the building. I spend the next twenty-four hours in a nightmarish haze, meeting strangers and getting mixed up in some bad psychic craziness. As the fever breaks and the sun rises again over the City of Angels, I retreat back to Oakland to write twenty-five thousand words of absolute nonsense about not getting into E3. I call it ELECTRIC HEART, NEON NIGHTMARE.

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