Is a local politician in front of the family home, the bodies are being removed, the man carried out, ditto the wife, and the politician—camera pans to the residents of the housing estate; they look like zombies, impassively aiming their mobile phone cameras at the goings-on, a few stones fly, probably from the civil task force that is positioned between the residents—the politician is appalled, at least he looks appalled, and he says: “The welfare state means that the laws of the market supersede mob rule.” They’ve all gone crazy.

In the city. And on the outskirts, there where it’s calm. Out at

THE FRIENDS

Excitement is in the air, there’s an atmosphere like a crappy old American TV series, where everyone talks hysterically to project a crazy performance. The young people jump around inside the factory hall, they’re incredibly excited. They’re doing some hacker shit. “We should do it with spoofing.” “Bullshit. I’m for row hammer,” says Ben toward the sofa where Hannah, Don, and Peter are lying half asleep. “Yeah, sure,” says Don to nobody. The hackers don’t even listen to themselves; they talk like they’re on drugs, so fast, the same way code is generated on computers, always new synapses that, in their brains, connect the same theories, all having to do with the online world, as if the real world no longer existed. Where it has become strangely empty. Everyone somewhere else, nobody here. Nobody is in touch with themselves anymore, or with anyone else, everyone alone with their feelings, which involve sex. And insecurity.

The lightheartedness of the group is gone. Same goes for the fun. They feel awkward confronted with their own helplessness. As if children who up to now have always bathed together naked suddenly hop in the tub in bikinis. All unsettled by their own bodies, which are getting stranger by the day.

Now they sit around here and listen to the others breathing in an oversize room. They drink yerba mate and

BEN

Gives one of his long explanatory lectures in the dark. Nobody listens to him.