NewsBang!

Promises of a better, exhilarating life drew me away from my contented, peaceful existence in the countryside and towards the irregular, pulsating heartbeat of metropolitan Centrale Grand.

That’s why I found myself, one day, pulling up to a lavish, postmodern castle, hidden away in the wealth-ridden suburbs, driving a black sedan.

Only it wasn’t my house and it wasn’t my car.

“Sorry I’m late.” Ducking down, a tall man with swishy hair got into the back of the car and shut the door behind him. “I’m Jerry Fitzgerald.”

“Jack Lewis.” I turned and he clasped my hand with his spindly fingers. “Any stops before the office?”

“Coffee.”

“Mountain Café?” I asked as I started up the GPS, pulling away from the house.

“Sounds good.” He nodded and buckled himself in. “Coffee is coffee.”

“True, but their coffee’s some of the best.”

“Better be.” He sat back in his seat and took out his phone. I glanced at him occasionally, but his sharp blue eyes remained locked onto the glowing screen throughout the drive.

As soon as we reached the coffee shop, he got out of the vehicle. I quickly threw it into park and got out, opening the doors to the café for him.

I followed him inside and watched as he marched to the counter, where the barista took his order. I stood away from the counter, keeping an eye on some of the people staring at him.

Then in walked a girl with baggy faded jeans, rolled up to her knees, and a hole-ridden sweater. When she saw Jerry, her make-up splattered face lit up. She started to shake a bit. I moved a bit closer to Jerry, as he leaned against the counter, swiping at his phone.

Suddenly, she sprang towards him. “You’re the guy who’s running for mayor! You know, I’m so glad that we have someone running who cares about helping refugees and migrants—”.

Despite a warm smile, he looked over at me. “Oh yes, thank you. It’s very important.” He stepped away from the girl and I gently stepped in-between them, saying that he was very busy. With a confused look, she stepped back.

Jerry continued to poke at his phone, only looking up when his order was called. “Thanks.” He nodded at the girl and led us out of the café.

He turned to me when we reached the car. “They can be rather irritating.” I got the door for him and he dipped inside. Sipping his coffee and swiping at his phone, he glanced up at me. “What?”

I shuffled away from the door, studying him. “You don’t want to talk to your constituents?”

At this Jerry chuckled. “Don’t get me wrong, the attention’s nice, but I don’t know the first thing about ‘migrants or refugees’. That’s why I hired you to keep them away from me. Nicely, of course.”

I frowned, but nodded my head. Getting into the driver’s seat, I drove us towards the downtown area. “I’m sorry, I’m a bit confused. I thought I was protecting you from harm, not voters. Shouldn’t you want to talk to them?” 

He looked at me in the rear-view mirror, his smile faltering. “You know the reason why I chose you as my bodyguard? You’re nonpartisan – or at least as nonpartisan as they come. Unbiased – you didn’t grow up in this city.” With a sigh, he ran his fingers through his hair and glanced out the window. “It’ll all make sense when we get to my office, there I can show you my website: NewsBang!. Then perhaps you’ll understand.”

We entered a sea of cars, taxis, and pedestrians. For an hour we crawled into the interior of the city, where skyscrapers accumulated into a swamp of metal, glass, and lights. The GPS led us to a parkade underneath the office building where he worked.

“Thanks.” Jerry stepped out of the car and shut the door behind him. Stretching, he waited until I got out of the vehicle and locked it. “Follow me. Our offices are on the fifty-fourth floor.”

With a nod I followed his lead through the elevators and corridors that made up the skyscraper.

I hadn’t heard of NewsBang! before I got the job. Jerry Fitzgerald was the co-founder of NewsBang! but was now running for mayor of Centrale Grand. When I did some light research on my old, slow computer back in my apartment, I saw that gaining access to the website required a profile on Social Feed. I made one and was instantly flooded by requests and advertisements. An article by NewsBang! quickly popped up, I pressed the link and stumbled down the rabbit hole. It was a website filled with articles on every subject imaginable. Pictures and snazzy designs had me overwhelmed and I clicked off, my eyes and brain hurting.

“Welcome to NewsBang!.” Jerry announced as we stepped through two clear, glass doors and into a marsh of desks and people. “It’s an open office, a place where we mine and refine labels. Each and every political, religious, and social label has its own department. Simplified labels, of course. That’s really the heart of this company – oversimplification. No nuance allowed.” He raised his head, looking over his empire of sweaty, haggard writers.

I glanced around, catching a few disinterested stares before he started down the hall. “Is this where your campaign office is also?”

“NewsBang! is my campaign. I mean, on paper, my campaign office is located elsewhere. But that’s not your concern. Besides, the real campaign is in the hearts and minds of the voters. I’m essentially a clean slate on which the voter paints what she thinks my campaign is about, which invariably is whatever her own bias or prejudice prefers. Let me show you how it works.” He led me to the only walled off area in the large room. “My office.” He opened the door and I walked into the marvelously decorated chamber.

I blinked a few times, my mouth slightly ajar. “It’s very nice.”

He chuckled. “It’s top of the line.” He went over to his desk and offered me a seat beside him. “Here, take a look.” A large console slid up and out of the desk, its screen glowing with the homepage of NewsBang!.  

I took a seat and squinted. “That’s your site.”

“It used to be. Technically, I don’t work here anymore.” He swiped at the screen and a long list of articles appeared on it. “Here is NewsBang! from an administrative position. I can see every article ever posted on the site. You see, we scour the internet for all the news stories on the web. We have programs that continuously take content from personal blogs, major news companies, political organizations, and business conglomerates from around the world and we make them our own.”

I hesitated. “You, uh, steal content?”

“Steal? No! I mean we don’t technically steal. We rejuvenate. We take those old, stale news stories and give them a spin. Here, I’ll show you what I mean,” he found an article on the murder of a politician that was featured on a respected news website and clicked on it. A white page with text appeared on the screen. “Not even a single picture. Boring, right? It’s just the facts. No one wants facts, Jack. Facts don’t get views. And without views, we don’t get advertisers, and without advertisers, we don’t get money.”

“Makes sense.”

“I mean the news media has always depended on ad revenue – that’s no secret. We’ve just taken it a step farther.” He swiped the screen and returned to NewsBang!. “Now on our website that same article becomes transformed. We then post that transformed and rejuvenated news story onto everyone’s Social Feed.” He looked over at me.

“Transformed into what?” I felt a bit uneasy, but also terribly curious.

 “Good question. This is where things get interesting. On NewsBang! we change the original story into one that conforms to the reader’s bias. Every single reader will get a different version of the article, depending on what they currently believe. And how do we know that? We have access to their Social Feed activity and the algorithms do the rest. Check it out – we have this story written from the standpoint of feminists, socialists, capitalists, spiritualists, nationalists, conspiracy-theorists, climate-change deniers, centrists, globalists, geriatrics, racists, pediatricians, Christians, Muslims, Hindus, Mormons, Atheists, Conservatives, Liberals, Libertarians, Criminals, Hipsters, Communists, the far-right, the far-left, the far-north, the far-out, bigots, anti-bigots, anti-anti-bigots and so on, so forth. Everyone is pandered to.” He sat back in his seat, a subtle grin on his face.

“Impressive.” I scratched my chin, unsure of what to make of it.

“And the only reason we’re not drowning in lawsuits, is because each news story that we take is spliced up into its individual sentences, with a few crucial words added or subtracted. Then we give each new sentence of the article its own page and lace it with advertisements and unrelated videos of animals being cute or people falling over. This way, the original content is changed just enough to avoid copyright infringement. Not that I’m worried. Everyone in this town’s already a loyal reader of NewsBang!.”

I leaned forward, my brow furrowed. “Still a bit dubious.”

“Obviously! But that is the future, Jack. No one’s interested in reading some dry, boring article or something they disagree with. They want their biases confirmed. They want to feel comfortable. No one wants to deal with contrary opinions.”

“You don’t have any qualms about this?”

“Not at all.” Jerry laughed mirthlessly and got up, moving towards the door. “Everyone already thinks they’re a genius and expert on what they read, we’re just here to confirm that. The best part of this, of course, is my campaign. You see, I control what people read. In this town, everyone, and I mean everyone, reads NewsBang! So who am I to them? Who is Jerry Fitzgerald? Whoever NewsBang! tells them that I am. Everyone votes for me because everyone thinks that I agree with their bias. I’m whoever they want me to be. Almost every article is written to implicitly promote me and at the same time agree with the preference of the reader.”

He opened the door and I started to walk out. Before I did, I frowned and asked, “How come people don’t know this? How could NewsBang! be saying different things without people realizing?”

“Indeed. That’s the beauty of our metropolis, Jack. No one communicates with people on the ‘other side’. Just imagine if you had to talk with someone who disagreed with you? Absolutely dreadful.” With that subtle smile, he closed the door behind me.

I wandered the halls until lunchtime, when he went out with a group of guys and girls. I walked with them to a nearby restaurant, over-crowded with people donning suits and dresses. Jerry paid the waiter and he led us to a table in the back. As we were weaving in and around tables, a man stood up. His face was almost as white as his glistening, combed back hair. He pounded the table and I turned, ready to apprehend him. However, the man didn’t move towards us. Instead, he waited until Jerry and the others faced him.

“Jerry Fitzgerald! Thanks for promising to keep those refugees out of our country and keeping our citizens safe. You have my vote!” He sat back down, and Jerry gave him a smile and wave before leaving.

When he was out of sight, they all broke out into laughter. “That never gets old.” Jerry looked at me and his smile disappeared. “It’s okay. A little praise now and again doesn’t hurt.” He took a seat, gesturing me to sit down also.

I took a breath and tried to smile despite my growing concern. The others started to talk, but Jerry remained on his phone throughout the lunch.

At the end of the day, I drove him home. I got back to my apartment, ruminating over what I’d learned, my spirit slightly crushed.

The next several months of working for Jerry only deepened my unease. Not that anyone else seemed to care – they simply hunkered behind their consoles and hammered out story after story.

Eventually the allure of metropolitan life dissipated and my roiling inner conflict became too much to bear.

One night, I got on my computer. Without knowing who to contact, I opened up a writing program and put together a document. I titled it: “NewsBang! Exposed.” I wrote throughout the night and then, after a few nervous breaths, I posted it on my Social Feed.

During the next several days, nothing appeared out of the ordinary. I continued to pick up Jerry and drive him to the office. He ordered, and I obeyed. I carried out my duties and got him home safely at the end of each day. This went on for nearly a week before I found a short email in my inbox. It simply read: “Fired.” There were some forms attached, and a number to call.

Early the next morning, I woke up to an even bigger shock.

My Social Feed and inbox were littered with posts and messages from complete strangers calling me ‘misogynistic, racist, sexist, a terrorist, a criminal, or even a pedophile.’ None of them allowed a response.

I saw a second email from NewsBang! which contained an endless list of articles, most of which consisted of variants of the headline: “Ex-Bodyguard at NewsBang! Terrorist Sympathizer or White Nationalist?” I balked.

I found the number that Jerry had put in the first email and called it.

“Jerry!” I shouted into the phone after several rings.

“Sorry?” The voice sounded tired and I realized it was only five in the morning. “Sorry, who is this?”

Gathering up my resolve, I cleared my throat and proceeded. “This is Jack. Your old bodyguard.”

“Oh right. How are you, Jack?”

“I got your emails.” 

There was a pause, and then a sigh. “Well I didn’t start it, Jack. You did. You wrote that little ‘expose’. Clearly, you weren’t listening when I told you about NewsBang!. It’s all anyone reads. Your ‘story’ probably didn’t even get a single view. It’s a lesson, Jack. I hope you remember it well.”

At this I felt my face flush, and my hands began to shake. “I want you to remove those articles.”

There was a slight pause. “I won’t. Even if I could, I can’t. It’s in the hands of the public now. But I wouldn’t worry too much, Jack. People get bored, and something else will grab their attention. Give it several days. A week at most. Soon enough you’ll just be a forgotten little uptick in views at NewsBang!.”

I trembled, my hands growing slick with sweat. “You’re disgusting. What do you even believe in? What do you even stand for?” My voice rose and I could hear Jerry’s breathing slow, and then quicken again.

“You tell me, Jack.”