(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
[<img src="Imperial Credit_logo copy.jpeg" width=47%>]
(text-style:"fade-in-out")["Welcome. Come in."]
|box>[The year is 2034, you are a migrant and you have recently been granted the right to work under the Immigration Regulation Act 2028. You are now entitled to operate as a free economic agent, however you keep being refused employment when applying for legal jobs. Is it your skills, is it your nationality? We will never know. You are trying to navigate these murky waters, between searching for jobs and claimining government benefits, under the new and improved Imperial Credit system. You start your journey by meeting the owner of a semi-illegal recruitment agency.]
[[Start the game.]]
''Content warning'': mentions of suicide, state violence, criminalisation and incarceration.
(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
I nodded absent-mindedly, looking around the room. The boss was gently tapping the brown pleather couch to a rapid melody playing in his head. I was trying to figure it out, but the (text-style:"blink")[sound of the doorbell] interrupted my focus.
[[Look towards the door.]]
[[Go and answer the door.]]
(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
"I'd like to ask you a question before we go on."
The boss frowned. "Too many questions are a bad omen."
(text-style:"shudder")["Are you sure you want this job?"]
[[Yes.]]
[[No.]]
(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
The receptionist/company administrator/bookkeeper rushed to the door and after a few moments, I could hear her nasal pitch:
"From a local charity? No thank you, our people are very well-looked after."
The boss (text-style:"sway")[waved his hand] a couple of times, as if shooing an invisible fly and then pointed to his head, suddenly stricken by a migraine. I wasn't sure if he was more annoyed about the woman's pitch or the self-righteous charity workers.
[[Continue.]]
But before I could get there, the receptionist/company administrator/bookkeeper rushed to the door. She quickly opened, gestured to me to get back and started in her nasal pitch:
"From a local charity? No thank you, our people are very well-looked after."
The boss (text-style:"sway")[waved his hand] a couple of times, as if to shoo an invisible fly and then pointed to his head, suddenly stricken by a migraine. I wasn't sure if he was more annoyed about the woman's pitch or the self-righteous charity workers.
[[Continue.]](set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
"Ok, then listen up."
[[Nod nervously... ->Look around the room.]] (set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
"Then it seems you don't want a job anyway. You're free to go."
"I changed my mind, please go on."
[[Continue. ->Yes.]]
(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
"Okay, I get it now. I have to be pretend to be your puppet between 9 to 5." I couldn't shake the bad habit of offering sarcasm as a gesture of friendship.
In that moment I felt (text-style:"blink")[pang number 1], a brief flash of self-hate, followed by redness around the jawline and down the neck. A genetic defect, passed down on the paternal side?
[[Hear the boss's response.]]
(set: $money to 0) (set: $health to 100)
"Pretend is a bad word, you should know better. We're not in the business of pretending. Only providing services at minimal cost." Clearly the agency boss didn't share my sense of humour.
(text-style:"sway")["Simple supply-and-demand."] he added and I had to swallow the rest of my comebacks.
[[Accept the job.]](set: $money to 50) (set: $health to 100)
Following the boss' postulate, I supplied my translating services to his dubious cleaning recruitment agency. I quickly stepped into my role as a ventriloquist, setting targets and working hours and sometimes forgetting to mention holiday pay. An unadulterated flow of tasks would pass through me, from agency boss to agency worker.
"Please clean behind the fridge." was delivered in the same tone as "We won't need you tomorrow." In the process, I picked up the boss' gesture of (text-style:"sway")[shooing an invisible fly]. It made everything easier, except firing people over the phone.
[[Fire a precarious worker on behalf of the boss.]]
[[Refuse to fire a worker.]]
(set: $money to 100) (set: $health to 90)
"He's my boss, too, you know? We're in this together. We can organise." I said. Utter silence at the other end of the line and in the background, a toilet fan choking on steam from a prolonged shower.
"I don't want to do this but I have to." I felt awful so I hung up.
(text-style:"blink")[Pang 24], shoulders drooping with the weight of a 15 kg dumbbell.
[[Complain to partner.]]
[[Suffer in silence.]](set: $money to 50) (set: $health to 100)
"Listen, I'm not going to do it. You have to find another ventriloquist for this."
Silence at the other end of the line. Then the calm voice of the boss: "I understand, you're not really cut out for this job."
I activated the CloudPods in my ears and turned up the volume. Guess I have to start all over again.
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/MNAB4fYBvDo" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
(link:"Get fired.")[(go-to:"Start")]
"Great display of solidarity, comrade." B. told me after I recounted the incident. The radio kept blaring.
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/4CkFPyH8v1c" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
"Can you turn it down, please? I get it. I'm never going to lead the workers' struggle. But what else is there? And don't tell me I should work for your cousins. Eyüp's a bully."
B.'s cousins ran a catering business. They didn't mind him reading sci-fi novels in the kitchen all day.
[[Try to get a job with B.'s family business.]]
[[Sign on to Imperial Credit.]]
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/8uOnDuLhGOQ" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
After watching a few videos about how to improve your job search, I caved in.
"Listen, actually maybe I could work with Eyüp."
"Are you sure? You just called him a bully."
"Yeah, I'm pretty desperate at the moment. How else am I goint to pay rent?"
"Well, have you tried signing on to Imperial Credit?"
[[Sign on to Imperial Credit.]] [<img src="Imperial Credit_logo copy.jpeg" width=25%>]
Fill in your details below.
|box>[Name.]
|box>[Surname.]
|box>[Nationality.]
|box>[Date of Birth.]
|box>[Address.]
|box>[Proof of address? Y/N.]
|box>[Last 3 months' bank statements? Y/N.]
|box>[Health conditions? Y/N.]
|box>[Education? Y/N.]
|box>[British values? Y/N.]
|box>[Commitment to Protestant work ethic? Y/N.]
|box>[Commitment to the Empire? Y/N.]
|box>[Ability to function while sleep deprived? Y/N.]
[[Check the status of your claim.]]
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/Th8YhLxTSFo" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
That day, after signing my ‘Claimant Commitment’ to spend 35 hours a week looking for legal work, I picked up my IC bracelet and stopped by the kitchen to moan at B.
<img src="H371fc6e3522b43f784659a206095759cm.jpeg" width=50%>
The bracelet (text-style:"blink")[blinked red], signalling I had to go out and try and log in another job interview in the next 32 hours.
"Look at me, officially unemployed, technically a full-time mouthpiece for the exploitative class." My mood stank of rotten eggs. An evil-eye charm hung above the doorway and I avoided its unblinking glare, looking instead at the rows of Victoria sponge cakes and lemon tarts carefully arranged in a semi-circle. B. explained they were waiting to be collected for a wedding in Haringey. I couldn't care less. I felt nauseous and defeated, one hundred pangs rolled up into one.
[[Hear B.'s response.]]
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/0ZOvsilzU1c" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
"Maybe there are other ways to find a job." B. offered while turning the radio down.
"Like what?" I rested my head on the kitchen counter and the grease clung to my hair.
"Different methods of persuasion, I guess."
"Like forcing somebody to give me a job?"
"Well I wouldn't go that far, but there's a party tomorrow."
"Are these your secretly rich friends?"
"I'd call them the more self-conscious ones."
"Cheers, I'll log this as an hour of job-searching. Can you share the geotag?"
B. nodded and turned the radio back up.
I sulked and cotinued listening to a podcast from Healing Justice London.
<iframe width="100%" height="300" scrolling="no" frameborder="no" allow="autoplay" src="https://w.soundcloud.com/player/?url=https%3A//api.soundcloud.com/tracks/1257297436&color=%23ff5500&auto_play=false&hide_related=false&show_comments=true&show_user=true&show_reposts=false&show_teaser=true&visual=true"></iframe><div style="font-size: 10px; color: #cccccc;line-break: anywhere;word-break: normal;overflow: hidden;white-space: nowrap;text-overflow: ellipsis; font-family: Interstate,Lucida Grande,Lucida Sans Unicode,Lucida Sans,Garuda,Verdana,Tahoma,sans-serif;font-weight: 100;"><a href="https://soundcloud.com/deaths-by-welfare-podcast" title="Deaths by Welfare Podcast" target="_blank" style="color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;">Deaths by Welfare Podcast</a> · <a href="https://soundcloud.com/deaths-by-welfare-podcast/resisting-dwp-violence-episode-1" title="Resisting DWP Violence (Episode 1)" target="_blank" style="color: #cccccc; text-decoration: none;">Resisting DWP Violence (Episode 1)</a></div>
[[Go to the party.]]
[[Go to the JobCentre and log more job search hours.]]
Finally, I found myself at the party, thinking how some people can keep a castrated pet in their house while raising three children. The cat snaked between the empty glasses, a flat-faced eunuch.
A couple dressed head to toe in black were inspecting the drinks table. His abrupt nose mirrored the severe cut of his partner's blazer. "Probably both from good Munich families", I thought.
[[Look to the left.]]
[[Look to the right.]]
<img src="image3.jpg" width=60%>
I begrudgingly went to the JobCentre, but it was closed. I had forgotten it was a bank holiday. The screens were playing E-Cell advertising videos on a loop, Imperial Credit's new corporate partnership.
<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/_2pe9nuO_kw" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
"How am I going to log more job search hours now? My reservoir is almost empty."
I spent several minutes staring at this poster and was almost on the verge of tears.
<img src="designcrowd_bhdw8a4enehjnnvdz0vz5xgkpg_image.jpeg" width=50%>
[[Go to the party.]]
[[Call the helpline again to make an appointment.]] In the other corner of the room, a dislocated couple in cream chiffon was arguing about money.
His arched eyebrows were motionless while her (text-style:"buoy")[sleeves moved up and down] with every utterance of the word "rent".
Possibly not the best candidates.
[[Look to the right.]] Next to them, a person with short dark hair, wrapped in a white puffer jacket, or maybe it was a duvet.
The flat-faced cat sat on the table watching the dislocated couple pour vodka in shot glasses.
My flask was empty and the bottle glistened as it changed hands across the table.
[[Turn around.]]
Looking around the room, my gaze rested on the contours of a figure so calm and self-assured, I imagined had to be the host.
Dressed in a black satin dress with shoulder-length hair that grazed the thin golden chain around her neck, her eyes were following the (text-style:"buoy")[syncopated moves] of the chiffon couple.
She was sipping on a dark liquid when I went over to introduce myself.
[[Introduce yourself.]]"Thank you for hosting us. It must be difficult to be the master of ceremonies."
"Glad you could join us." She made an ample gesture but the only person she could include in this fictitious //us// was the person wrapped in a duvet. They smiled lukewarmly, attempting to join the conversation for a second and then changed their mind. The duvet looked like much better company.
"Sorry, I didn't catch your name." I said.
"How rude of me! Most people call me Hennie but I prefer Hans." Hans had a melancholic round face, as if grounded by an invisible parent.
"What a coincidence, some people call me Gretel."
Hans's round face loosened in a wide smile. I wondered how many bad jokes it would take for a ripe family tree to emerge, laden with connections or at least a few geotags. The bracelet (text-style:"blink")[blinked] under my jacket. Did it just tighten around my wrist?
[[Fantasize about a rich uncle.]]
[[Call the helpline yet again to make an appointment.]] I could almost trace the (text-style:"blurrier")[contours] of an important family member, most likely an uncle: an imposing frame, a round moonlike face and possibly a moth-eaten jumper a little too frayed at the edges.
He would be a minor but well-respected playwright and a part-time lecturer in theatre studies.
I could act as his accented but zealous assistant. I could organise his lecture notes, compile a slideshow. I could also format his bibliography; perhaps even make a diagram of Stanislavski's system of acting. I could teach him to set his printer, maybe even use torrents.
"What's that?" Hans quickly interrupted my genealogical fantasies.
[[Answer to Hans.]]
(text-style:"blink")[Pang 243], heaviness and tightness around the chest area. I thought Hans had noticed the bracelet. But she pointed at the novel sticking out of my pocket.
"Oh, It's a vintage edition of 'We' by Zamyatin. Have you read it?"
Hans stood in silence for a few seconds, staring at her empty glass. "Oh dear, I haven't read a novel since school. My attention span is terrible. But I love that for //you//!"
Our conversation had reached a dead-end and her uncle remained a ghostly presence.
"Thanks, I guess." I mumbled.
Hans turned around grabbing the bottle of vodka on her way.
[[Continue to look around.]]I stood there, screwing the cap tighter on my flask. "But a subtle rejection that almost feels like approval," I thought "that could only be the product of a private education."
In between (text-style:"blink")[pang 244] and (text-style:"blink")[245], I rested my gaze on a familiar sight at house parties: the three anthropologists from Turnpike Lane absorbed in conversation.
The three of them lived above the Bulgarian restaurant, between the Baptist Church and the Polish Tax Advisors. I imagined them discussing Anna Tsing while drinking moonshine in the early hours of the morning.
[[Look for B.]]
[[Try and catch the flat-faced cat.]]
[[Call the helpline one last time to make an appointment.]]"Who knows how they make their money." B. mumbled, reading my thoughts. He had returned with a small glass of dark liquor.
"Anthropology doesn't pay."
"Don't be mean, I was just wondering." B.'s unloved earring made his left lobe seem droopier than usual.
In the (text-style:"blurrier")[corner of my eye,] I sensed a (text-style:"fidget")[restless] presence.
[[Turn.]]
The cat had found a frayed skirt, abandoned on a couch and was chewing on its hem.
"Oh, this is so 2023." I mumbled, while tugging on the skirt.
The cat responded by sinking its claws into skirt even harder.
"Back then, cosplaying as Marie Antoinette seemed like a good idea."
In the (text-style:"blurrier")[corner of my eye,] I sensed a (text-style:"fidget")[restless] presence.
[[Turn.]]Hans shyly moved closer with the air of revealing a great secret or asking for a favour, hands clutching the half-empty bottle. "I noticed you have an accent."
(text-style:"blink")[Pang 286], no explanation needed. I couldn’t bring myself to understand the degrees of separation between slightly and heavily accented. I had concluded that this was another marker of me being in the world. With emphasis in the wrong places.
"I don't mean to pry, but..." continued Hans.
I repressed a strong desire to suck my teeth.
"Somebody mentioned you're a translator and I was going to ask if you were interested in a job."
"I worked as a translator until recently."
"Of course, you seemed so..."
"Bilingual?"
[[Cringe.]]
(link:"Laugh.")[(go-to:"Cringe.")]
Hans laughed. The invisible parent returned with a tinge of guilt. Hans lowered her lashes and stared at her feet for a few seconds before speaking.
"Listen, I think I know why you're here. I noticed you're wearing the IC bracelet, there's no shame in that. It's the geotag, I get it. This location will score high in the app. You probably don't even need to log anything for a few days."
The bracelet (text-style:"blink")[blinked]. It was twenty minutes past midnight and thirty-two hours since I had logged any job search activity. The digital reservoir was red and running on empty.
[[Confess.]]
[[Try to find an excuse for wearing the bracelet.]]
"It's pretty embarrassing to wear the bracelet. It's like being on parole." I confessed.
"Well, the dole is some kind of parole."
"If you send me a request I can approve it." Hans pulled out her phone and scanned the bracelet.
"Under what name?"
"Don't know, I can set up a fake account. They wouldn't check a geotag from //this //neighbourhood. Maybe it could be an interview for Parole Translation Agency. Do you think that's too corny?"
[[No, I'm pretty desperate. Send a request.]]
[[Yes, sort of. Send a request.]]"Look, it's not what it seems. I'm not like a //sloane-hunter// or something. Like, I don't just go to parties to look for rich people and sort of, log fake job interviews in wealthy neighbourhoods. Like, sort of..." I mumbled.
"I get it, you're redistributing wealth."
"Sort of, yeah."
"Just send me a request."
(link:"Send a request to Hans.")[(go-to:"No, I'm pretty desperate. Send a request.")]I shook my head and watched the digital reservoir (text-style:"fade-in-out")[turn green], its glare reflected on Hans' moonlike face.
I gestured to B. to pick up his coat, but he was too busy chatting to the chiffon couple. He was showing them how to place their house keys in between the index and middle finger for self-defense purposes. I had seen B. perform this gesture at a least a dozen house parties, a sort of choreographed coarseness.
But it still managed to produce (text-style:"blink")[joy number 2]. A shortness of breath, followed by a rush of blood from the brachial artery, past the bracelet and into the tips of my fingers.
''
THE END''
[[Further resources]]
I shook my head and watched the digital reservoir (text-style:"fade-in-out")[turn green], its glare reflected on Hans' moonlike face.
I gestured to B. to pick up his coat, but he was too busy chatting to the chiffon couple. He was showing them how to place their house keys in between the index and middle finger for self-defense purposes. I had seen B. perform this gesture at a least a dozen house parties, a sort of choreographed coarseness.
But it still managed to produce (text-style:"blink")[joy number 2]. A shortness of breath, followed by a rush of blood from the brachial artery, past the bracelet and into the tips of my fingers.
''
THE END''
[[Further resources]]"It's a very simple job.” the agency boss told me on my first day. "~~No texts, no emails~~, only phone calls and face-to-face conversations. Writing is incriminating."
What do you want to do?
[[Look around the room.]]
[[Ask the agency boss a question.]]<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vvJ9IbBrMMU" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
No luck, try again tomorrow.
[[Carry on.]]<iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vvJ9IbBrMMU" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
No luck again.
[[Go to the party.]] <iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vvJ9IbBrMMU" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
No luck again.
[[Fantasize about a rich uncle.]] <iframe width="560" height="315" src="https://www.youtube.com/embed/vvJ9IbBrMMU" title="YouTube video player" frameborder="0" allow="accelerometer; autoplay; clipboard-write; encrypted-media; gyroscope; picture-in-picture; web-share" allowfullscreen></iframe>
No luck again.
[[Turn.]] Perhaps signing on to Imperial Credit is not the worst thing in the world. "I guess I'll have to get used to the monitoring bracelet now." I whispered to myself while typing in the web address: https://www.imperial-credit.service.gov.uk/sign-in
[[Sign on to Imperial Credit.]] <img src="Imperial Credit_3 copy.jpeg" width=80%>
[[Call the helpline to make an appointment.]]''Further reading:''
<a href="https://cpag.org.uk/news-blogs/news-listings/universal-credit-fictions"; target="_blank">Child Poverty Action Group, 'Universal Credit Fictions'</a>
<a href="https://cpag.org.uk/news-blogs/news-listings/work-poverty"; target="_blank">Child Poverty Action Group, 'In Work Poverty'</a>
<a href="https://healingjusticeldn.org/deaths-by-welfare-project"; target="_blank">Healing Justice London, Deaths by Welfare Project</a>
<a href="https://www.versobooks.com/en-gb/blogs/news/3675-race-class-and-brexit-thinking-from-detention"; target="_blank">Luke de Noronha, 'Race, Class and Brexit: Thinking from Detention'</a>
<a href="https://www.migrantsorganise.org/charities-protest-capita-agm-over-controversial-government-gps-tracking-contract/"; target="_blank">Migrants Organise, 'Charities Protest Capita AGM over Controversial Government GPS Tracking Contract'</a>
''Practical resources:''
<a href="https://www.citizensadvice.org.uk/"; target="_blank">Citizens Advice</a>
<a href="https://www.migrantsorganise.org/"; target="_blank">Migrants Organise</a>
<a href="https://www.migrantsorganise.org/app/uploads/2022/03/Community-Organising-Handbook.pdf"; target="_blank">Migrants Organise, 'Community Organising Handbook'</a>
<a href="https://cpag.org.uk/news-blogs/news-listings/navigating-social-security-system-mental-health-problem"; target="_blank">Child Poverty Action Group, 'Navigating Social Security and Mental Health'</a>
<a href="https://www.jcwi.org.uk/pages/category/work-it-out-toolkit"; target="_blank">Joint Council for the Welfare of Immigrants, 'Work it Out Toolkit'</a>
''Artworks:''
<a href="https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EysSdTqqT1U"; target="_blank">Dolly Sen, 'Broken Hearts for the DWP'</a>
(text-style:"blink")[[[Start again ->Start]] ]