Otherwise just a, go ahead, say it,

Child

It has limbs that seem to move independently of each other. So, wow. A child, a little person, a replica made from his DNA.

Thinks the

BANKER

Cool. His wife. Yeah, well, that’s another story. His wife must work, otherwise it wouldn’t be possible to pay for the child to have its own room in High Holborn. The child needs its own room. It has its own room, the child, crazy, an entire room, when 80 percent of the people in the city have just eight square meters to themselves, this child writhes around in a tidy fourteen square meters. It needs a room. That can be locked when the parents go to work. When they both still worked. A device handled supervision. The device filmed the child through its eyes, recording every movement. The absence of the parents, that is, the mother, worked marvelously for a couple hours. In the child’s room are dispensers with fluids and food. The child, the banker has forgotten its name, had developed a strong relationship with the device. In the evenings it didn’t want to hear its parents hold forth, it wanted to be told stories by the device. Bedtime stories.

“Anyone can make it to the top. That is the blessing of our economic system.”

“What is ‘blessing’?” asks the child.

“Blessing,” says the device, “comes from God. He protects good people, does Lord God. Everything will come to the industrious. If you study hard, respect money, eat healthily, and exercise, if you don’t loaf and take a nap in your scarce free time, then you will achieve all that you want in life.”

“Like toys and sweets?” asks the child.

“Correct,” says the Robi.

Right, yeah, and so on and so forth,

THE PROGRAMMER

We know him, he has his own ideas, which now reverberate in millions of children’s rooms like an elegy for neoliberal thought. What he’s trying to do at the moment is memory hacking. You repeat false stories for so long and in such detail that everyone believes them. Millions of children grow up with Ritalin and the lore of a technocratic programmer in their synapses. They will be complete idiots who will be useful in their composure and unambitiousness, who will believe in capitalism and follow with empty stares commands from machines. While the new generation of humans is assembled from better construction kits.

And

THOME’S FATHER