Netflix‘s anthology sci-fi thriller Black Mirror dropped its third season last week and is essentially a modern rendition of The Twilight Zone.
Black Mirror season 4 has been confirmed.
Michael Callow is the Prime Minister of Great Britain when Princess Susannah, the Duchess of Beaumont, is kidnapped by an unknown group of hackers making an unscrupulous demand of him, personally.
For her safe return, Callow must engage in live sexual intercourse with a suidae mammal of the genus Sus scrofa, a.k.a. a swine, or a pig, on national television, with a list of technical specifications designed to make it impossible for him to counterfeit.
The public’s response is initially one of sympathy towards Callow, and the majority of citizens do not expect him to go through with such a ridiculous demand. Twitter tags christen the incident with a hashtag #Snoutrage.
Callow’s head of PR has a blunder involving a video with a fake Prime Minister and the hackers send in a severed finger of the princess. Public opinion quickly goes south; with the majority now demanding that he promptly follow through with the kidnapper’s demand, for the sake of the princess’ safety.
After being informed that his political party, the general public, and even the royal family are demanding he fulfills the ransom or neither he nor his family can be guaranteed safety if he continues to refuse, Callow acquiesces the terrorists request and performs the act in front of a live global audience.
The Princess is discovered unharmed in the streets, the spare appendage having belonged to the kidnapper, who committed suicide. The princess had been released, and was roaming the streets sometime significantly before the deadline, but had gone undiscovered, because everyone was so overly distracted with the P.M.’s broadcast.
Mi5 have got a name. They’re surrounding the place now. — Michael Callow
“Truro.” — Michael Callow
“I don’t want you worrying.” — Michael Callow
“Whoever this is, is insane.” — Michael Callow
“Who’ll get through this.” — Michael Callow
“I won’t have to do anything.” — Michael Callow
Nothing is going to happen. — Michael Callow
“There must be something.” — Michael Callow
“There’ll be a clue, some evidence.” — Michael Callow
You sent in a strike team to rescue a manikin. — Michael Callow
“He won’t even release her anyway. She’s probably already dead.” — Michael Callow
“I trust this will bring about the safe return of Princess Susannah.” — Michael Callow
I love my wife. May God forgive me. — Michael Callow
Complacent, concerned, and acquiescent Michael Callow is a Guardian.
Martha’s husband Ash is obsessed with social media. He spends most of his time on his mobile, accessing social media accounts. Tragically he passes.
Martha is consulted about a new online service that aggregates all of Ash’s social media behaviors, and uses that information to generate and render a digital ‘person,’ who mimics those behaviors, helping the mourning party cope with their recent loss.
Ultimately she buys into the web service and starts communicating with her spurious husband online via instant messaging.
The program even calls her on the phone and communicates verbally with her in Ash’s replicated voice. She develops a rapport over time with this phone communication service.
She even uploads his program onto a body of synthetic flesh, but becomes discontent with its lack of humanity/authenticity and locks it in the attic.
She allows her daughter to see Ash’s clone on weekends.
“Ten years, you haven’t played them once.” — Martha
“Come on then, what’s your favorite Bee Gees track.” — Martha
“You do not like “How deep is your love!” — Martha
It’s just… It’s not very you. — Martha
“Just checking if you’re still solid. You keep vanishing.” — Martha
“It’s a thief, that thing. What are you doing?” — Martha
“It’s not funny. It’s sweet.” — Martha
“Job’s just come in. Needs to be done by the end of play today.” — Martha
“I don’t care what it is! I don’t want it! It’s obscene to use his name! His name, for God’s sake! It hurts! You know it hurts…” — Martha
“You talk to it?” — Martha
“‘He,’ is dead.” — Martha
“It’s sick. It’s sick.” — Martha
“It won’t be…” — Martha
“Yeah! Yeah, I’m fine, I just, I just, I had a bad one, earlier.” — Martha
“No, it’s okay, really, I’m…” — Martha
No, it’s okay, really, I’m… No, no. Don’t. I’m okay. I promise you I’m okay. — Martha
“You always said that I looked weird when I cried.” — Martha
“Yeah, you were.” — Martha
“Yeah, in a good way.” — Martha
“Ash, look sorry… It’s just… a bit odd. I just need a bit of, just getting used to it.” — Martha
Just get out! Get out! Get out! Go on! You’re not enough of him. You are nothing. You’re nothing! — Martha
“Get out of his house.” — Martha
“Yeah well, you aren’t you, are you?” — Martha
You’re just a few ripples of you. There’s no history to you. — Martha
“You’re just a performance of stuff that he performed without thinking, and it’s not enough.” — Martha
Sentimental, emotional, concerned with authenticity Martha is an Idealist.
Lacie Pound lives in a world where everyone is prefaced by their popularity score, a numerical value out of five maximum stars. Anyone can rate your popularity, and everyone wears smart lenses that display your name and current popularity rating. Obsessed with being received well, she has a current approval rating of roughly 4.2.
She learns that in order to be able to live in an exclusive estate community, she must acquire a popularity rating of 4.5 or above, and is advised that the best way to improve her own rating is to socialize with highly-ranked individuals as their ratings carry more weight.
Coincidentally, her socially prestigious old friend Naomi asks her to be maid of honour at her wedding. Naomi has many upper-crust acquaintances and lives on an exclusive idyllic and picturesque private-island, where the wedding will be held.
Lacie postulates that if she crushes a maid of honour speech, she will garner the positive attention from socialites that she needs to succeed in life.
At the airport on the way to the wedding, she is told her original flight has been cancelled, and she needs at least a 4.2 pop rating to get a seat on another.
However, due to series of extremely misfortunate events, her rating tanks to a 2.8, and she is disinvited to Naomi’s lavish wedding.
She gatecrashes the wedding regardless and gives a drunken and borderline delusional speech. After picking up a butcher’s knife, she is detained.
“Landlord is sending buyers over today so… put your pants on.” — Lacie Pound
“Not an option, Ryan. Lease is up in four weeks.” — Lacie Pound
“I’m… seeing some places over lunch, catch you later.” — Lacie Pound
Sounds awesome. — Lacie Pound
“Oh, I saw your boy in the fire hat just now! So cute!!” — Lacie Pound
3.1? What happened? — Lacie Pound
“Sure! Obviously.” — Lacie Pound
“A lifestyle community.” — Lacie Pound
“Well, I bet you work…. good there.” — Lacie Pound
“Topenade, want some?” — Lacie Pound
“Are you kidding? Of course!” — Lacie Pound
I mean, you’ve got such cool friends now, Are you sure? — Lacie Pound
“Nay-nay, I will not let you down.” — Lacie Pound
“You too, Nay-nay!” — Lacie Pound
In this world, we’re all so caught up in our own heads. It’s easy to lose sight of what’s real. What matters. — Lacie Pound
“I just want to make her happy on her wedding day.” — Lacie Pound
Naomi and I were best friends. I wish her well and want to express it the best I can. And, yeah, if I nail a speech and get five-starred by hundreds of primes, so what? It’s a win-win. — Lacie Pound
“What’s wrong with Pelican Cove? They are great apartments.” — Lacie Pound
“Do you know why I never brought any guys back here? Because I didn’t want them to know I was sharing a skanky-ass cave with Mr. Three Point Fuck.” — Lacie Pound
Teardrop. Crowd goes wild. You can do this. — Lacie Pound
“Well, I got marked down at the airport for yelling, and they put me on double damage.” — Lacie Pound
But as long as I get to the wedding, do the speech, they’ll overlook the 2.8. I’m with the bride. And if I do well, well, they’re all high fours so that velocitates my arc. And once they lift the point penalty, well, my average goes way up, and, yeah, it’s gonna be okay. — Lacie Pound
“But I don’t even have the something worth losing, not yet. You know, I mean, I’m still fighting for that.” — Lacie Pound
I don’t know. Enough. To be content? Like, to look around and think, well, I guess I’m okay. — Lacie Pound
“Just to be able to breathe out, not feeling like… like… Like just… and that is way off, like, way, way off. And until I get there, I have to play the numbers game. We all do, that’s what we’re in. That’s how the fucking world works.” — Lacie Pound
In this world, we’re all so caught up… … in our own dramas. It’s easy to forget what matters. — Lacie Pound
“So it was just about numbers for you?” — Lacie Pound
“Thank you for that, Naomi. I always wished I was you. And… I guess that’s why you kept me around so long? Until you got your new job, and your fancy new friends. And that…. fucking…. jackhole. And you didn’t need me. You probably got another me. Guess there’s some other ‘yeth Beth’ you moved on to like a succubus.” — Lacie Pound
Ingrained, practical, always a realist Lacie Pound is an Artisan.