Full Digital Jacket

[Original screenplay freely inspired by the film by Stanly Kubrick]

[First Episode of the “Digital Trilogy”]

BACKGROUND

2017. The dystopian world belongs to multinationals that exchange personal data in defiance of governments that try to control them. Each user has traded their privacy and human sensitivity by revealing their inhuman component in exchange for likes, hearts, shares, photos and increasing their horrific exposure to get more followers.

The compulsive obsession of looking at any screen ranging from 6 to 15 inches is the basis of new human relationships and virtual snaps&chats shops are opening up under the umbrella of innovative startups that have an innovative soul in the garage. No, not that of Jobs and Gates, even if they all come from an underground on the upper floors: it's a total overground, "they even come out of the fucking walls!".

Unemployment is such as to force Governments to drown the sorrows arising in social safety nets disguised as new businesses with a low employment rate with a mirage that is difficult to achieve behind impervious and redundant bureaucracies: the mirroring of the laws ensures electoral consensus and deliberately non-relational databases they leave interpretive bugs.

Generations express in bytes of various sizes and over time the oral tradition entrusted to messages, exchange pocket money in e-money and concerns about educational values ​​in chat. The dominant thought has passed from the critic to the storyteller.

Here the story begins.

FIRST HALF

The room is huge, white and muffled, the light enters from above and from the large side windows of a coworking space in glass, steel and birch. Boys of all ethnic groups in a riot of colors dress code observe computers, listen to music on headphones, share pizza and chips, a few beers and cokes. The corner bar is far away, someone is talking on their smartphone, someone is sipping a relaxing herbal tea from a cup.

There is tension in the air. It is felt, it is palpable, it almost cuts like a knife. The floor is shiny, very shiny as far as you can see in the parquet. The temperature is constantly regulated by sensors for energy monitoring. Multicolored sofas and bookcases trace paths, desks and self-leveling anatomical armchairs accommodate microservi.

The nervousness is growing as much as the waiting. It has been unofficially known that Joseph Raid, one of the gurus of the web, a million euro unicorn and philanthropist, is visiting. In the space room equipped for the OST there will be a meeting with all the employees and then with the 13 project managers to talk about the future of the company, upcoming acquisitions and joint ventures.

Jonah is a team project manager, is between 13 and does not believe it. He has long since lost his illusions and in his spare time he works on an idea to turn around and leave microservo alone. He is fed up with the pressure and the science fiction that Reid tells around, on social media and in the newspapers to feed a machine that makes money just for "Joe". Everyone gets only crumbs, even if with almost 6 zeros. Not even investors have noticed this gigantic multilevel machine, Heinlein already spoke of it in 1950 as "robber barons". “Strange coincidences with Future History”, he thinks.

The lift opens, the shiny steel doors slide, giving way to the thermo-tempered glass cabin. Tall, lean and lanky, with square shoulders and a rounded chin, in a T-shirt and black jeans, he walks with his hands at his sides, "classic leader posture," observes Jonah. The tension suddenly eased, replaced by the wait for the "Speech".

In the space room there is a great handshake, gratifications and pats on the back, as happens in the best families: Jonah refuses contact, he sat down at the back, to make himself invisible. Meanwhile, the laying on of hands and the beatification of the micro-servant on duty elevates him to the Lord of the Web in less than 15 seconds. Joe uses cold reading techniques, the hidden headset gives him the information to greet everyone present one by one one and praise him for the work done, while he melts in front of him. The radio microphone is ready, the direction opens the line, the stage is in dim light, the bull's eye is focused on it and illuminates it.

"Good morning" is the debut. Break. The attention is maximum. Any inflection in the voice is a sign to read, interpret.

“I want to tell you about a dream” comments Joe Raid, gesturing “I started 33 years ago with a dream in the garage at home: to make everyone's life worth living. That's why I created Dreaming. Dreaming is everyone's dream come true. Each of us has dreams that he wants to realize and that are closed in drawers or in the labyrinth of his imagination. But… – pause, even in gestures – they remained there, closed. Oh! I feel great justifications being raised: I have no money, I don't have time, I can't focus on my core business. They are EXCUSES! - Jonah, at the back of the space room, warns the capital letter in his voice, raised from whisper to firmness - There are no dreams without will and determination, stubbornness and sacrifice. We are Warriors of the Web, we raid people and profiles byte by byte, breathe their feelings, profile their moods and capture their dreams, of boys, fathers, mothers, brothers, sisters, relatives and friends. They confess, as a priest does in secret. We… – another pause – LISTEN – the voice is now a faint whisper, perfectly audible, “these vocal evolutions have been studied at the table with the sound engineer, somewhere there, behind a glass”, Jonah thinks smiling.

“Dreaming is a code, a virtual reality connected to an AI that maps people's dreams on social networks through an algorithm and on the acquired data makes a financial offer for their realization, from a cruise in the Caribbean sea, to the opening of a flower shop until the satisfaction of needs…. very personal”. – someone smiles, the allusion to sex and her most hidden fantasies is evident. Jonah feels a sense of unease and unease.

“Making everyone's dreams come true brings well-being. It increases awareness of oneself and of one's existence in the world, one feels satisfied. When you are satisfied then you are more inclined to spend and buy other products, all those that we are able to procure through the e-commerce platform. This enriches the company, it enriches you, it allows you to buy expensive toys like Ferraris and Bugattis and in this way we all contribute to the improvement of social welfare”.

Jonah had begun to smell the usual bullshit about "awareness" already after "needs meeting" and felt a tightness in his stomach. Joe Raid hadn't changed, philanthropy was a mask only to have access to other sources of funding for his mega-empire.

“Today Dreaming announces the acquisition of Enforce, our rival. Our shares have gone up, your dividends will be higher, your money in our company shares will be more valuable and you can realize your FUTURE!”

“This victory is a team victory, a close-knit team victory, not even the sky is the limit!” it was the last thing Jonah had time to hear from Joe Raid before he sneaked into the bathroom, locked himself in the stall, and started vomiting.

SECOND HALF

Jonah had been closed for a good fifteen minutes and had lost track of time. He rubbed his eyes and the nervous contraction in his stomach was increased by the certainty that the meeting of the 13 project managers with Joe would begin in an hour. Sitting on the cup, he heard the applause and the tributes as a distant echo. A few more minutes and it would all be over. He stood up, flushed the toilet, then the mirror sent back a damp, sunken face, the dark circles of pandas.

He began to walk towards the meeting room, slow and painless. He found Cynthia setting the table, silent. She too, as beautiful as the sun, closed there, her skin made diaphanous by the LED lamps.

- There's a meeting soon… - she told him.

– Any advance? Jonah asked

– Scheduled time as usual. He will speak directly… as usual –

Was the hesitation more out of dogmatic respect or awe? Jonah wondered. He breathed:

– Fucking scared?

– Yes, it doesn't blow a good air on the upper floors. Rumors in the corridor…. they are not good.

He broke off, the bulk of the group of project managers entering at that moment. The others trickled in and took their seats opening their ultrabooks. Jonah opened his and sat down in the back corner. In came Emily, Joe's assistant-in-chief, and behind him was the King of Dreams, as the press hailed him. The chatter gave way to a buzz and then to silence. The wall came alive in a giant screen with the company logo, an Indian dream catcher. Anxiety, tension, fear and adrenaline made an explosive mix. To trigger it the detonator of the unsaid, of hesitation.

– Hello Colonels. Joe's smooth tone from an hour ago was gone. The greeting was clear: it dictated rules, circumstances, hierarchy. Break. Keyboards ticking between links to the private area and reports ready to show on the screen. No one dared to reply, it wasn't a greeting or even an invitation, just troops in review, perhaps being shot in the field.

We acquired those starved Enforce. With a few million euros and a stock exchange we took home 500 people and their main projects for the development of AI - he continued, in a flat and toneless voice, zero gestures - and we reduced the development time to go out on the market with the launch of the new Dreaming platform. One less competitor and more workforce for the expansion of our projects - a sadistic laugh appeared, pause, resume - which allow us to expand the activity to the global mapping of desires. You know what that means to your wallets.

Applause, to the word "wallet". Now, the review.

– Your results, now, here and now. AMAZE ME.

“6 people before we get here,” Jonah counted. It was all right. Cut costs, boosted productivity, his team would be finished in a month, unless otherwise advised. Your turn to be the first to "Fat" Dominoes.

– Joe, the INS.AI project is two days ahead of its deadline and we are also working at night with alternating 3-hour work breaks for groups of 8 coders. By grouping the teams I was able to cut the deadline by two days and improve debugging. Financially there is a saving of 15%.

Not bad. Not excessive, but not bad. The Dream King perched on his chair was lost in the holistic view of him, in a listening position, hands outstretched on the table in front of him. “Eurisko” Chan the second.

– Joe, we have applied the latest version of MARKS, the algorithm that monitors our sales from the platform on AI indications, DAYDREAMING. We record an increase of only 17,32%. We don't explain why. Probable causes are the seasonality of some products, the cyclical demand for others, delays in deliveries. We have a drop in confidence and sentiment of 32.67%.

Eurisko almost silenced his voice, Joe pretended to have heard nothing. He waited for “Panel” Mark to confirm Eurisko's final results; and already John "Finney" of the finance area had finished translating the monetary loss in terms of cash flow. The Dream King was hissing and under pressure. He stood up and self-control was lost in the highway to the ceiling.

– Are you telling me that compared to a 15% savings for a pure ass kick, we now have losses of millions of euros after I've been to the supermarket shopping for companies full of programmers who can't sell? - She screamed, her neck a bundle of nerves, her red face contrasted with the black of her clothes - I pay you millions of euros to bring home results and you ruin this fucking company for me? I've got hedge funds that I've secured 32% margins and I'm raiding cheap companies to eliminate the competition, and you guys can't pull a fucking idea out of your hat to pump money? The Securities Commission and the European Commission are at the gates to take our money and everyone there, still?

Eyes down, heads down. Silent. Jonah had a pen in his mouth, he was looking out the window and had a very strong urge to drop everything and leave. The bipolar disorder of the King "Joe" was all there, not the screams and tantrums.

- Now you have to go back to the cubicles and grind until you come up with a fucking good idea to make money and fast. Stock options are reset!

It was useless to look around, the angry movement went through everyone, and Jonah's stomach cramp increased, then he decided that it was enough and intervened:

- Hey, Joe, you drugged the market without having sufficient production capacity - he said it softly and slowly so that it penetrated his brain through that cloak of anger and stupid madness that distinguished him - and here we can work miracles but it won't come out. You sucked up everything you could and that was left, now it's up to you to realign it. Projects are fine and in control, your business model isn't working and you don't want to change it. You enter small, low-margin markets to gain control of the supply chain, and your cash flow suffers. You are eating your money. At this rate there will have to be a rearrangement. Soon.

Jonah closed his ultrabook, stuffed it into his bag, tossed his pen inside. Astonished looks. Joe was blown away.

– Joe, for me you can take this company and sell hot dogs too. I'm going to get a life.

Jonah stepped out of the hall's automatic glass door. He walked down the corridor to the elevator. Turning around, he saw the crystal breaking, an ultrabook thrown out. The elevator doors opened ready to welcome him.

Outside, his next job awaited him.

CREDITS

Special Thx to:

Douglas Coupland, Douglas McDonnell.

In memory of:

Robert A. Heinlein, Stanley Kubrick, Ronald Lee Hermey.

[What is shown does not refer to actual events. The people, places, dialogues and companies mentioned are pure fiction.]

[No contractor, employee, project manager, sound engineer, was harmed during this webdrama. The ultrabook was replaced by a counter computer and the scene shot in post-production.]