Hicham Lasri, well-known conceptual artist and author, celebrates a brilliant comeback with his fifth novel, “Big Data Jihad”, a sobering statement against the background of science fiction and digital friction, but also the story of a virtual catastrophe. without forgetting a revenge fantasy. Here are the good hands, one episode at a time.
“Big Data Jihad” is a hard-hitting love story, HS social networks, watered down emotions, a God who only counts women’s tears, a world “that stinks of shit” because it’s populated by “egg holes”. In a raw register, therefore, Hicham Lasri depicts a humanity rooted in fear that makes the salt of the modern world.
Le360 invites you to discover the good points of a novel that describes a brilliant antihero who breaks the internet to punish an influencer who left him without all the police of the world being able to find out how or why.
i’m down
Somewhere on earth… This time there is no more procrastination, no alternative. I must face the consequences of my sabotage. I’ve sabotaged the era, it’s time for the era to respond. My bellicose stance, my clamor come back to me like a boomerang. This Okhrana, this Tcheka, this GPU, this KGB of my balls trying to do the you never know when you’ll be home trick. Shave me out of my asshole with Gillette three blades!
– What do you want from me?
– The truth !
– I didn’t shoot Kennedy!
– Fun !
– It’s the truth…
– May we know what you’ve done to the world?
– The world ?! I do not know !
They will refuse to take what an outright liar like me tells them at face value. A liar all the more impressive and imaginative than sometimes when
I’m fine, I’m telling the truth…
– I didn’t do anything !
– Liar!
– You can at least explain to me what I’m being held responsible for before you do the abou trick
ghraib?
The reference freezes the blood of our little torturers with fragile hearts. A sudden mist obscures my nagger’s eyes. Memories rise to the surface like mustard. What to do with executioners Freeze them in amber and wait for the end of the world. Officer! Shit! Eulogy!
The grumbler lowers his eyes, he misses a psychological step and I see him rolling down the staircase of seconds skipping like popcorn like an anachronistic stuntman! It’s called dominating… My triumvirate is closing in on me to catch up.
Totenkopf, lobster and the grumpy bow down over me with a mixture of anger and dismay…