Don’t Be Evil

A Journey into “Sustainable Malevolence”

It all started innocently enough, the way all these mind-numbing corporate revolutions do. A few high-functioning sociopaths in hoodies decided that the future of the world rested in the ability to “disrupt” industries at the speed of a startup burn rate. It started as a cute, nerdy motto on some engineer’s whiteboard—Don’t be evil. The whole place reeked of Mountain Dew and nacho crumbs, buzzing with caffeine-soaked zealots who thought they’d solve the human condition if they could just code fast enough. At first, it was all about changing the world. A noble mission. They slapped “Don’t be evil” on a mission statement like it was a badge of honor, a hollow signpost on the road to Silicon Valley’s self-congratulatory utopia.

But the wheels of ambition grind quickly, and Don’t be evil? That was just a vestigial relic from the halcyon days of self-righteousness, a bumper sticker slogan for naive dreamers who hadn’t yet tasted the bitter, blood-soaked honey of venture capital. Enter Be Slightly Evil, the inevitable evolution. A delicate balance of cynicism and just enough decency to stave off a full-scale revolt from the employees who had no idea what they’d signed up for. Be Slightly Evil—you know, just enough to squeeze out the competition without anyone noticing. After all, if you’re not pushing the moral envelope a little, are you really innovating?

Sure, they’d still slap you with a high five and quote some Gandhi, but only after they’ve sold your personal data to the highest bidder. The only thing more brittle than their “moral framework” was the endless stack of cash they were all swimming in.

Soon, that wasn’t enough. Break things, then sell people glue. It’s the Silicon Valley method—smash the system, then reassemble the shattered pieces with duct tape and bad algorithms, charging people a premium for the privilege. You launch a product, let it implode, then watch as the public scrambles to “fix” it while you rake in a windfall of investor dollars. Why bother with the pretense of ethics when you can manipulate the very essence of human nature to create insatiable demand for the broken fragments of society you’ve casually destroyed? Think it’s too cynical? Not in the world of venture capital, where broken things are merely future profits waiting to be monetized.

And when the cracks in the empire begin to show—when the cracks in your conscience begin to show—you don’t backpedal. No, you launch a new slogan: Be Evil on alternate Thursdays. This isn’t your grandfather’s evil. This is the sophisticated kind, the kind with a schedule, the kind that knows when to hide behind regulatory loopholes and when to send in the lawyers.

And of course, by “evil,” we mean anything you want it to mean: it’s a gray area, a malleable concept that exists in a vacuum, waiting to be molded by the whims of capital and then profit off the ambiguity. Define evil as a gray area, and suddenly the theft of personal data, surveillance capitalism, and the complete obliteration of privacy are just market forces. And if anyone dares point out the ethical quagmire, they’re just too simplistic, too binary.

Then came the grandiose excuse: Woke made me do it. The ultimate get-out-of-jail card. You didn’t screw over your users, mislead investors, or bankrupt small businesses in the name of profit—no, you did it because cause social justice warriors. Sure, you’re fueling the existential crisis of millions, but at least you were force into it. The woke wave was surfed, the words tossed out like the latest trending hashtag, just another weapon in the arsenal for controlling the narrative. It’s not lying; it’s reframing—taking a reality that’s uncomfortable and smoothing out the rough edges for the masses.

But it doesn’t stop there. Enter Evil Premium, the gilded ticket to access the high life of corporate malevolence. For just $14.99 a month, you can get exclusive access to an app that tracks your every move, or opt for “ad-free” villainy, where your digital footprints are archived for a higher bidder. Want to feel really nasty? Upgrade to our Enhanced Villainy package, which unlocks the deepest data reservoirs, gives you premium access to psychological profiling tools, and, if you’re lucky, a special invite to the annual “Corruption Gala” in Monaco, where they hand out awards for the most creative misuse of algorithms. It’s like a subscription service for your darkest impulses—a cult-like marketplace where moral ambiguity is the product, and every transaction is a step deeper into the rabbit hole of modern exploitation.

But the real money-maker? Weapons & Widgets, baby. A seamless integration of hardware, software, and pure, unadulterated greed. You don’t just sell people a phone anymore—you sell them the means to enslave themselves with a microsecond of gratification.

why sell glue when you can patent the entire adhesive industry? It’s innovation through monopoly, a corporate synergy where every unit is optimized for “value delivery” and every resource is mined for market control.

Maybe it’s a new gadget that can track your every move or a “smart” watch that tells you when you’re going to die. Everything’s a product, from oppression to surveillance, from addiction to submission. It’s not about selling you a better life; it’s about selling you the idea that life without the right product is meaningless.

And why stop there? Expand the evil empire with corporate synergy—the holy grail of modern capitalism. Launch “Weapons & Widgets” as a corporate synergy, and suddenly, your entire revenue model is built on the back of fear and greed. Think of it as a one-stop shop for every devious tool in the digital toolbox. If you can’t kill them with kindness, you kill them with precision data—because why settle for an army of drones when you can have an army of algorithms, all finely tuned to profit from the very algorithms that serve you?

Finally, the pièce de résistance: Sustainable Malevolence. Nothing says forward-thinking quite like a slick, marketing-driven commitment to continuing the cycle of destruction, but with a “green” spin. Instead of just spewing the usual PR vomit about “corporate responsibility,” you start pushing legislation that actively incentivizes sustainable damage. Who cares if the planet’s crumbling as long as you can profit off it? Co-host a legislation effort for “Sustainable Malevolence,” ensuring that environmental collapse and social destruction are not just consequences but business opportunities. In this brave new world, you don’t destroy just for the sake of profit; you destroy with a plan. You ensure that the ruins of the old world are carefully mined, repurposed, and recycled into the shiny new world you’ve created. A world where everyone is locked in a contract for eternity, and the only thing more toxic than the environment is the corporate bottom line.

There it is, in all its glory. The Silicon Valley blueprint for modern evil: An ecosystem of buzzwords, broken promises, and data-driven exploitation, all wrapped in a thin layer of technocratic jargon that would make George Orwell choke on his own cigarettes. Welcome to the future. It’s slightly evil, and it’s coming for you whether you’re ready or not.

The Interzone of Access

The state of democratized access

Smartphones – IPhone 🧌

Internet – Google search ☠️

Laptops and Computers- Apple

Open Source Software

Streaming Services ☠️

E-readers 🪦

Platforms Twitter 🐸 ☠️

Renewables – No killer product

3D Printing – No killer product

Blockchain – No killer product

Smartphones: The iPhallus, a chrome totem pulsating with logos, a Skinner box in your pocket. It whispers promises of connection, but delivers a cage of curated reality. Information streams, a digitized jungle, eat your time, leaving a hollow satisfaction.

A million apps, a million distractions, a million tiny Skinner boxes conditioning the neuro-meat. Candy-coated slavery in the palm of your hand. iSlabs, gleaming black mirrors of narcissus, portals to a curated chaos. Everyman a kingpin, a producer, a pornographer, all in their pocket. Yet the signal flickers, the battery drains, a phantom limb lost in the subway dead zone.

Internet: The Vast Sprawl, a digital Moloch devouring time and attention. The Great Search, a labyrinthine web woven by spiders of code. Google, the all-seeing eye, indexes your desires, feeding you a manufactured reality. data graveyard haunted by ghosts of information. Google, the all-seeing eye, harvesting your clicks, feeding your fears, shaping your reality byte by byte. Information overload, a digital deluge threatening to drown us in a sea of irrelevance. Google, the one-eyed oracle, its algorithms whispering desires before they’re even thoughts. Information, a firehose of data, flooding the circuits, leaving users thirsting for truth in a desert of clickbait. Information overload, a firehose of data drowning critical thought.

Laptops & Computers: Apple, the forbidden fruit of knowledge gleaming with bitten chrome, gleaming and expensive. Gates of silicon paradise guarded by proprietary code. The illusion of freedom, the reality of control. A cold metal womb birthing the digital simulacrum. Walls of text rise in the flickering glow, a self-imposed prison of information. The Apple, a seductive serpent, coils around your creativity, whispering of pre-programmed potential. Applechrome fortresses, walled gardens of control. The keyboard, a weaponized typewriter, spewing forth manifestos and memes. The cursor, a blinking eye, judging every keystroke. Screens glow, casting an artificial twilight, users wired to the machine, slaves to the silicon gods.

Open Source Software: A flickering candle in the data darkness. Code shared, a digital commune, a fight against the proprietary gods. Yet, the shadows lurk, vulnerabilities hidden in plain sight, a potential Trojan horse for the unwary hacker. The Bricolage Bazaar, a chaotic marketplace of code. Hackers, the new revolutionaries, wielding screwdrivers and compilers, building free alternatives in the shadows. But the corporations loom large, casting their proprietary nets, ever ready to co-opt and commercialize the commons. A rebellion against the code lords. Free and open, a chaotic symphony of programmers, a glimpse of a decentralized future. But can the open web survive the vultures of the corporate machine?

Streaming Services: The Cathedral of Distraction, a never-ending cacophony of content. Binge-watching our way to oblivion, passive consumers hypnotized by the flickering glow. A million shows, a million voices, but nothing to say. The opiate of the masses. Flickering cat videos and endless content loops lull the mind into a mindless stupor. A dopamine drip, a manufactured dream state, a society plugged into the matrix of entertainment. Attention spans wither, dopamine drips, a generation raised on the flickering teat of the algorithm.

E-readers: The Gutenberg Graveyard, mausoleums of digitized ink. The weight of the book, the rustle of turning pages, the scent of aged paper – all sacrificed on the altar of convenience. Are we trading the soul of the book for the cold efficiency of the screen? The tomb of the bound word. Text trapped in silicon purgatory, devoid of the tactile symphony of turning pages. The scent of aged paper replaced by the sterile hum of electronics. A library of Alexandria burning in the palm of your hand. Can words on a screen ever truly replace the weight of a book, the scent of aged pages?

Platforms: Twitter, the digital coliseum, a gladiatorial arena of 280-character insults. Bots and trolls, the new bread and circuses, keeping the masses entertained while the real games are played in the shadows. A breeding ground for echo chambers and outrage, a weaponized hivemind. Tweetstorms of rage, a cacophony of disembodied voices. Echo chambers amplify, dissenting voices drowned out in the cacophony. Is this the agora of democracy, or a breeding ground for fascism?

Renewables: The Mirage of Sustainability, a shimmering oasis in the digital desert. Wind turbines, like skeletal giants, promise clean energy. Yet the corporations exploit the land, leaving scars on the earth in their quest for profit. Can technology truly save us from the destruction it has wrought?  The elusive dream, a shimmering mirage in the desert of fossil fuels. The technology dances on the horizon, just out of reach, a promise of clean energy held hostage by corporate greed. The elusive Holy Grail, a shimmering mirage in the energy desert. Technology fragmented, potential unrealized. Can we harness the wind and sun before the oil barons suck the earth dry?

3D Printing: The Plasticine Playground, a child’s dream, an engineer’s folly. The promise of a maker revolution, limited by cost and complexity. Can we print a new world, or are we destined to drown in a sea of cheap trinkets? A plastic ouroboros, devouring itself in a cycle of endless creation. It promises democratized manufacturing, but delivers trinkets and toys, a future filled with mountains of discarded plastic dreams. The Flesh Fair, a macabre carnival of possibility. Organs printed to order, bespoke bodies sculpted from plasticine. Is this the dawn of a new era of transhumanism, or a descent into a narcissistic funhouse of self-replication?

Blockchain: The Invisible Labyrinth, a tangled web of encrypted transactions. The phantom currency, a ghost in the machine. The dream of a decentralized utopia, free from the control of banks and governments. But in the shadows lurk criminals, peddling darkness on the dark web. Is this the future of finance, or a haven for the lawless? Anarchic utopia or criminal playground? A technology ripe for both liberation and exploitation.

The Cut-Up Machine sputters and coughs, spewing forth this fragmented vision. Democratized access, a double-edged sword. Freedom and control, creation and consumption, all tangled in the wires of the digital age. Can we navigate this labyrinth, or are we destined to be devoured by the very tools that empower us?

This is the Interzone of Access, a cut-up of our digital landscape. Here, progress rubs shoulders with peril, and the line between freedom and control blurs into a hazy dream. We stand at a crossroads, a stark reminder of the choices we face in shaping the future of access.