President Pixel

Gaspard Pellerin-Moulin was elected on a slogan of three words: ‘Nothing special whatsoever’. He keeps his word. Until the evening when he pulls on a full-face helmet, mounts an old red scooter governed to forty-five, and passes through the Coq gate to join Clémentine with cold croissants. In the basement of the Palace, an intern spots a red dot on camera 287 and makes a video game of it: eight bits, five worlds, a photographer as the final boss. The game leaks. The country plays. The ministers too. A satire of a Republic become entertainment, where the score replaces the ballot and where everyone waits to be asked: Continue?