Black Book

Jolted awake by the feeling of falling into one of the manny cracks in this current reality, be it COVID-19, the fall of western civilization, a glitch in the simulation, or the loss of what little hope there is to hold onto in humanity today he reluctantly makes his way out of bed.

After catching his breath, checking his temperature, and test-smelling cologne and mouthwash to make sure he doesn’t have the virus, he slowly overcomes his crippling anxiety to go outside and face the world with a splash of cold water and a good, swift self-administered smack in the face. A quick session with the man in the mirror whom he barely recognizes. As he stares into the mirror it starts glitching and slowly fills with green 0’s and 1’s. Then the camera zooms into his pupils quickly dilating as he stares through the fourth wall coming out the other side riding on his long board listening to Fleetwood Mac’s “Dreams” while drinking cran-raspberry juice and filming it all through his phone on a selfie stick sharing it all on a live stream. Social media seems to be his only connection to the world reinforcing the simulation theory. As thumbs up and love emojis fill his peripherals he smiles and keeps pushing his board on down the Oceanfront walkway. The camera rises through drone eyes to a bird’s eye view with the ocean and the walkway split by the jagged rocks of the shore.

The tone changes as he turns into the city with empty streets, paper tumbleweeds, and the stagnant air of hopelessness. He passes the long forgotten homeless along with the hazmat suit-wearing observers. He passes the rich people who are taking cell phone pictures of the “Real World” and pretending to help for their insta-blog channels in their Gucci hazmat suits. He cruises past the respirator-wearing ladies of the night congregated under the giant digital billboard tallying the number of COVID infections and deaths in “real time” imposingly displayed in between flashing clips of protest, war, and corruption. With a shiver and a shake of the head he pushes his longboard on down the road, with Lupe Fiasco’s “Kick Push” playing in his ear now. The camera rises to bird’s eye view but is quickly shot out of the sky by a patrolling CDC COVID hazmat unit then falls to the ground in static.

The static clears and he is standing on the other side of a plastic screen in full hazmat garment while serving plates of food to wealthy people as their laughing and conversation faintly drones in the background behind the sound of his breath in the suit. They shew him away from their table with hand motions while never so much as a look in his direction. He follows the barrier tube back to the kitchen where everyone is literally only wearing masks, and everything seems way more normal... another illusory facade is exposed.

He is now sitting outside on a small area near the trash dumpster and the grease pit under strict instruction to not be seen by the customers. Seemingly playing a game on his phone as a co-worker comes up and asks:

“What are you doing, playing a game?”

“No, I’m working on my stocks. This is gonna get me and my family out of here... I’m gonna be on a yacht one day watching my money grow on this phone,” he replied.

“Everyone gets a car when I get rich on the stock market,”

he added.

“Psssht, keep dreaming buddy,” his co-worker replied.

“Success is a mind frame, my friend” he snapped back.

He checks in with his video boss at the time clock who gives him some generic inspiration like:

“Good job out there today,”

“keep up the good work,” and “you’re the backbone of this company.”

He is starting to wonder if the boss is even a real person. He clocks out with a retinal scan. He collects his pay via a usb stick. He preps his bag making sure he has his revolver, his hand sanitizer, and his COVID mask... for protection.

As he pushes his board on down the road. He hears distant coughs and sees the flicker of fire down the back alleys. With dogs barking and gunfire in the distance he rides past a CDC COVID SWAT unit pulling people out of their house. He rides on. Following the oceanfront walkway he encounters some drones that demand a virus and temperature scan. He passes and pushes his board on down the walkway.

He pulls up to his family’s small basement apartment under an empty highway. He goes to the door but it’s locked due to late rent. He plugs his memory stick into the screen that projects the rent in real-time updates based on the “Market” that is located by the door as the rent is taken from his card.

“Oh wow, really high today” he observes.

He proceeds to go inside, give the rest of his pay to his mom and greet his sisters. The apartment is a small basement unit with a combined living room and kitchen thick basement block windows that twist the light and sometimes rainbow it, but you can’t really see anything through them. He goes into his room and you see stock research on the desk and on the walls. He sits down and proceeded to open his tablet and go to work trying to crack the “wealth code”as he calls it. His mom comes to the door to say good night:

“You still pissing with that stock market stuff?” She asks.

“This is going to take us out of here one day,” he says.

“That’s for the rich people, the elites, the chosen ones... there is no way out for us honey,” she scoffs.

“Well, it’s good to have dreams,” he replies.

“Good night,” he says.

A knock at the door interrupts their conversation. He opens the door to see a COVID CDC inspection crew, they forcibly enter to snoop around, take temperatures, and ask some questions with impunity and abuse of power. He gets mad and yells at them to leave and then he is sternly reminded that they are “just doing their job” The crew leaves just as everybody starts feeling violated.

Later that night he is jolted awake by lightening and thunder illuminating the apartment through the twisted glass block windows. He tries to look outside but can’t really tell what’s going on. He goes into the kitchen/living room for a glass of water as the power goes out... “fifth time this week” he says as he tries to go back to sleep amongst the lightning and thunder.

The next morning, he is sitting in front of the tv eating a bowl of cereal flipping through the channels:

“There was an attempted take over of the capitol building yesterday... along with riots in the streets” the newscaster said

“Ice storms in Canada and Fire tornadoes in California” the newscaster continues.

He changes the channel

“There’s more billionaires than ever now, the pandemic has created a more than favorable economy for them. It seems many millionaires have profited off of the virus and social restrictions forcing people to stay home. That along with questionable stock market moves they have turned their already ridiculous incomes into multibillion-dollar stock endeavors consuming more than ninety eight percent of the worlds money.”

“How much do you need?” He questions. Then proceeds to change the channel.

“In local news today, an EF 5 tornado has devastated the shore and miles inland due to a freak giant tornado that barreled in from the ocean. There is five dead and millions of property damage”

“Well that explains last night” he says

On his way to work as he skates down the ocean walkway he sees a giant yacht has crashed ashore upon the jagged rocks. He walks toward it, yelling out for survivors

“Hello, is there anybody in there?” He yells

He approaches slowly to find the wreckage of an opulent yacht with fancy wood and gold chandeliers.

“This is clearly a billion dollar yacht” he says.

He looks around the yacht more, once again yelling out for survivors. Walking around some more he sees a little black book floating in the water. He ventures out into the break to grab it. It’s a nice leather bound book. He shakes it off then opens it. He sees stock market info with notes and symbols.

“It has to be old, they quit printing books decades ago.” He says.

There is also a memory stick that looks like a key in a clear compartment on the inside of the cover of the book. He looks around then places the book in his hoodie pocket and precedes to skate past the dystopian streets pushing his board increasingly faster past the bleak dystopian streets and its inhabitants.

Back at work he’s going through the same familiar motions as things seem to rush past him in an almost fast forward glitching time-lapse. He can’t stop thinking about the book and the memory key. Back in the break area amongst the trash and grease pits he once again looks around making sure there is nobody around then pulls out the book and starts to read a bit...

“It’s all fake?” he questions.

The door to the outside break area quickly bursts open and his co-worker comes out. He quickly hides the book.

Back home in his room he opens the book and starts reading and referencing his notes with the book excitedly. The symbols and charts are still not very familiar, but the words are. He reads on getting more excited as he flips through the pages. He goes over to his tablet and just as he goes to put in the USB key in, a sharp knock at the door startles him.

“Come in,” he says

His sisters enter and they ask “watcha doing?”

“Sit down,” he says.

“What if I told you that the stock market and modern currency is a made-up construct of this simulated reality we are in, it’s not an actual computer simulation, but through the use of symbols, media, fear, and the manipulation of energy… the rich and powerful elites control our reality and economic status. They understand that everything is energy and humans can control it and influence it. The stock market and currency are all made up. The real power is in the manipulation of the energy that pulses through everything.... through the universe, through us, through everything! It’s all made up constructs of reality made to keep us in perceived inescapable prisons also known as our minds.”

“You see, by making us believe there is no way out and being afraid of the world, they control us to stay where we are, it’s The Matrix... (Quoting the movie)…

“The trick is not to try to bend the spoon, but to realize there is no spoon” ...Don’t try to think outside the box but realize... there is no box! there is no limitation but the ones the are created by ourselves and outside forces! The lie is clear on the first page of every economics 101 book. Scarcity, the theory of Scarcity is a lie!... They make us believe there isn’t enough for everyone, so we fight over what little we believe is available.... while they take it all! It’s all symbols and energy used by the elites to keep the money and power in the hands of the few. Do you think it’s an accident that one percent of the population controls 99 percent of the currency? It’s also no coincidence that most of the money stays in families forever... it’s this! This book is the key!” He proclaims

“Ok, this is crazy” his sister says while making the mind blown hand symbol.

She looks at the USB key in his hand and asks “What’s that?”

“We’re about to find out,” he says.

He places the USB key in his computer he clicks the mouse a few times and then the screen flickers and glitches, a bunch of symbols, zeros, and ones come flashing across the screen, then suddenly the screen goes black and restarts. He opens up his stock application clicks on a few things.

“It’s working, look! It’s working,” he says as he points toward the screen.

The stock line continues to go straight up 10,000, 15,000.

“Oh my god 50,000 dollars!” He screams as he shuts the computer down.

“Why’d you do that?” she asks

“If I make too much, they’ll find us,” he says.

“Matter of fact we need to go. Get mom, now!”

Just as they’re about to leave they hear a knock at the door. He peers out the window and sees a CDC COVID SWAT truck with soldiers at the door.

“We have to go out the back” he whispers.

Just as they escape out the back door the front door bursts open and the COVID CDC team enters with guns drawn.

They narrowly escape in the neighbor’s ancient mini-van and drive away.

He is now in an underground computer hacker strong hold.

“You must be the protagonist. The names Bishop, why have you come to us?” Asks a man whose entire face is tattooed to look like a chess board….

“I think you need to see this” he says as he hands the tattooed man the USB key

The tattooed man places the key in his computer. Clicks somethings and then says, “Holly shit!” And looks at the protagonist.

“I know” he uncomfortably laughs.

“This changes everything, man” says Bishop.

“No, I don’t think you get it, watch. pick a company” says Bishop.

“I don’t know, uhh, I used to get video games from a store called Gamey-O” Protagonist shakily says.

“Dude, who didn’t love Gamey-O, alright let’s do it,” says the tattooed man.

“Do what?” The Protagonist asks.

“Change the world!” Bishop proclaims.

They both look at the screen as the Game-O stock skyrockets. Bishop looks at our Protagonist and says:

“You just started a revolution; this is only the beginning... the world needs to know about this.”

The camera zooms into our protagonist’s eyes as his pupils dilate with 1’s and 0’s glitching out.

Rage against the machine “Wake Up” is now playing as chaotic news clips about the stock market start playing. The elite are angry and yelling “We need to put a stop to this, there needs to be restrictions I’ve lost billions” playing overtop the music.