My dad was a petty thief. Never could hold down a job. So he just robbed. Convenience stores, shops. Small-time stuff. One time, he sat me down. He told me something I never forgot. He said, "Everyone steals. That's how it works. You think people out there are getting exactly what they deserve? No. They're getting paid over or under, but someone in the chain always gets bamboozled. I steal, son. But I don't get caught. That's my contract with society. Now, if you can catch me stealing, then I'll go to jail. But if you can't then I've earned the money." I respected that man. I thought that shit was cool, as a little kid. A few years after that, they finally caught him. Sent him to jail. He dies five years later. My respect goes with him. I thought he was free doing what he did, but he wasn't. He was in prison. Just like you are now, Elliot. But I'm gonna break you out.
You don't take down a conglomerate by shooting them in the heart. That's the thing about conglomerates, they don't have hearts. You take them down limb by limb. And as they unravel, their illusion of control unravels.
Is any of it real? I mean, look at this, look at it! A world built on fantasy! Synthetic emotions in the form of pills! Psychological warfare in the form of advertising! Mind altering chemicals in the form of food! Brainwashing seminars in the form of media! Controlled isolated bubbles in the form of social networks. Real? You want to talk about reality? We haven't lived in anything remotely close to it since the turn of the century! We turned it off, took out the batteries, snacked on a bag of GMOs, while we tossed the remnants into the ever expanding dumpster of the human condition. We live in branded houses, trademarked by corporations, built on bipolar numbers, jumping up and down on digital displays, hypnotizing us into the biggest slumber mankind has ever seen. You'd have to dig pretty deep, kiddo, before you can find anything real. We live in a kingdom of bullshit, that even you have lived in for far too long. So don't tell me about not being real: I'm no less real than the fucking beef patty in your big mac. As far as you are concerned, Elliot, I am very real. We are all together now, whether you like it or not.
I know we don't usually do this, but I have to fill you in if he won't. That's why you're back, isn't it? To help? You gotta be noticing it, then, too. That he isn't talking to you. He doesn't talk to me that much, either, not since Angela died. Darlene's right. He's shutting down, compartmentalizing the pain, living in the distraction, just like the holidays: the plastic trees, the annoying Christmas carols.
[Cut to a group of carolers singing "O Come, All Ye Faithful]
Mr. Robot
One big song-and-dance production to sell ourselves the theater that everything's jolly, at least for a moment. But when it's all over, Santa's gone back to his shitty day job. The trees get disassembled and thrown in a closet. The music's faded away. What then? That's why you can't go anywhere. I know he's keeping you away, but I'll let you in. Don't think I'm doing it for you, though. Let's be clear. I still don't give a shit about you, but he does. This does not feel right to me. E Corp owns the building. They own half of Manhattan. We stick to the plan. And right now, Elliot needs you more than he lets on, because when that cold, brutal reality closes in on us, we're gonna need a friend, and that's still what you are, right?
Seems like we're always thinking of ourselves when looking for something that's lost, but we never think much about the lost, whatever, whoever is unable to be found, whether it's a set of keys left somewhere and forgotten, a couple of guys wandering aimlessly in the woods, or someone who's disappeared inside himself. What if that's what they wanted all along? Not to be found.
There it is. That sense of dread. It only happens when you cross a line you didn’t even know existed. Maybe that dread is a good thing. After all, when you realize you’ve crossed a line… that means you still had one. When those crossed lines are all behind you, up ahead is only darkness.
Here we go again, off to play the hero. But is that even who we are anymore? You saw what we did back there. We just watched him destroy someone's life and none of us did a thing about it. Rules, morals, parameters they only break if you're broken to begin with. Did we change under pressure, or did this only reveal who we really are? I don't know anymore.
So let me see if I got this. You wanna get into real estate. Is that it? Is that what all this is about? Is that really your groundbreaking epiphany here? No. That can’t really be it, is it? In your word salad, I heard something about drug dealing. Thing is, Pfizer and Eli are a few billion ahead of you, and they can buy your death with the same half-cent it costs them to make a pill. You wanna get into billboards? Download Photoshop. Make yourself a cute portfolio. Stores, with the debt everyone’s in, I’m sure they’ll gladly give them to you, in which case, you’ll just be owned by their banks. Trains are even more bankrupt and don’t even get me started on the NYPD. Even that blunt you wanna roll is gonna be marked up by Big Tobacco itself. Point is, this city is one big, fat credit card bill, and you wanna pay it, all so you can, what, be another suit with a mortgage?
Behind every great fortune, there lies a great crime. That is the corporate motto of these United States. You wanna oink-oink with all the other capitalist pigs? It’s not about how much money. It’s about robbing money itself.
Mr. Robot · 191 quotes
Mr. Robot
