The treatment

The story begins and tends to remain in Brooklyn, where our protagonist, a perpetually broke young fellow with substance abuse problems who has recently lost his job as an aide to a congressman, is sitting in the living room of the apartment he shares with his white, drunken old friend from back home and his black, Brooklyn-raised, more recently-made friend who himself just did six years for robbing a Starbucks. The shot focuses on the large notepad on which our protagonist is jotting down ideas as he consults with the two of them. The dialog begins to flow, and with it the ideas. Protagonist reluctantly writes things down as they are proposed - sensible things. Banter flows, in the process setting the scene and situation. Finally, the two other roommates agree that the protagonist should get a job at BBQ restaurant. Protagonist agrees, verbally. On paper, he writes down, "Power."

The Puerto Ricans come in, without knocking, and talking loudly in accordance with their custom. The Puerto Ricans form a sort of local marijuana syndicate that operates out of the living room during the day in return for $200 a month and endless blunts in addition to other considerations, such as cleaning and the supply of video game consoles. Having previously operated largely out on the block, they proposed this deal in order to escape both sorts of heat that are part and parcel of selling weed outdoors on a summer day. Incidentally, black roommate is unhappy with the deal insomuch as that it cuts little off the rent and one of the Puerto Ricans keeps having sex with his girl in the fellow's room. Not-so-incidentally, he makes more money than either of the other two, despite the fact that works as a chef at that fucking BBQ restaurant and the other two have pursued careers in media. In fact, white roommate also works at a wine store in addition to being a web editor/producer at The New York Post, where he makes minimum wage. This is bad for morale.

Camera follows protagonist getting up, finally, after additional multicultural banter, and walking to his shitty little room. He walks with determination while also tripping over his feet at one point; he's got a bottle of vodka in his hand, we see. He half sits/half collapses on his chair. Then we got to some other scene which will no doubt be ribald and entertaining.

The plot establishes itself, with a little help from us, in the ensuing scenes, as our protagonist pursues various briefly-held plans to establish himself in accordance with his own ego and the social station it demands. Eventually, he gets a gig writing speeches for a precinct candidate, via the Puerto Ricans. From there he continues on in that vein until he is writing for a congressional candidate - one who is opposing the candidate for whom he worked until being fired. At this point, and in the wake of tense discussions with our other cast of characters who themselves represent various streams of modern thought but not in a ham-fisted way, hopefully, his first plan is revenge against that candidate and power for himself. But then it is proposed that he do more; that he abandon the prospect of revenge in return for the prospect of something beyond power. He decides to create a fake persona in order to write speeches for the original candidate as well. After a good deal of work and group planning, he manages to do so. And thus it is that our protagonist is now writing speeches for both incumbent and challenger alike, in the same race, and with the input of the cast of characters that have already been introduced in the meantime.

For instance, we have Character A, a confusing fellow who both practices magic and writes for skeptical publications (and those centering magick as well). His definition of magic - which he spells "magick" in accordance with the modern tradition - is hard to pin down despite several on-screen attempts to do so. He believes in the primacy of secrecy and conspiracy - what that means is illustrated over time, particularly in his own primacy of input regarding how our protagonist comes to set up his own master plan.

Inevitably, we have Character B, who comes from the barrios of San Antonio and likewise hails from a family with strong ties to Mexican mafia. Nonetheless, he himself has drank deeply from the well of the hipster, although not so deeply that he doesn't mock himself for having done so. He is in love with a bartender chick in accordance with his romantic strategy. He is perpetually encouraged to get involved in the budding conspiracy but is non-commital, keeping his own counsel. Friends with our magical Character B, partly because he suspects that there is a magical element to things as well, partly because they were roommates during a brief attempt at going to college back their home state.

Character C never appears in person, referenced, IRC, video. Freelance writer/prankster who manages to write completely false articles for various publications. He is revered as a master of the art of media manipulation, having also gotten friends to appear on local TV networks in various small markets and then act in some or another embarassing fashion, and is thus thought very highly of by all of our characters. He agrees to lend his own brand of logistical support to the politician project at some point and grows to hate Character B due to the similarity of that fellow's ideas to his own.

Character D is the author of The Art of the E-Mail and an unfond aquaintance of our characters. Having chosen to pursue a pure form of careerism that does not draw on any sort of philosophy or even non-philosophy to guide it, he is considered to be among one of the lowest sort of creative class professional. It does not help that he is also an asshole who occasionally makes good points. At the very end of the film, he is punched in the face by our protagonist but laughs it off, noting that he is getting rich and has suffered far worse than a punch in having gone about making money in the way he does.

Character E is the author of a book manuscript that will never be published and another acquaintance of our characters. He is of the absolute lowest case by virtue of working in banking and having written an autobiography detailing his lame-ass adventures with drugs and sex. White roommate has a copy of this manuscript and brings it with him everywhere so that he can mockingly quote from it.

Character G is a Puerto Rican weed dealer with a teardrop tattoo from a prison stint and the fellow whom Character F depicts as the author of the paintings she does. He is prone to talking a great deal of urban nonsense at his gallery openings, which are always attended by the other characters for obvious reasons of hilarity.

"... and it's extraordinary in other respects. Even the hookers in the ranch house near Dallas where they allude to the Kennedy assassination. The scene with Nixon and Mao is just so... uh cinematic. Mao tells him that both have killed millions to fuel their personal appetites and that 'history is a symptom of our disease.' And then Chinese characters fade into the screen while his words are being translated by that chick translator... chick. And Nixon is all troubled. Man, if that doesn't effect you... then I'll kick your fucking ass."