Lightpaths by Howard V. Hendrix

The blurb on the back cover says "if Heinlein had grown up reading William Gibson, this is the sort of thing he would have written..." I beg your humble pardon, but Heinlein was a master of his craft, not to be dragged down by comparison with a newly emerged garnet-in-the-rough author who took seven years to complete his first novel. Hendrix begins philosophical maunderings and political digressions within the first twenty pages, long before we've gotten a chance to empathize or identify with his characters, much less have a clue where this senseless display of vain erudition is going.


Finally gave up, only slightly confused and demoralized.