TITLE: BITTEN APPLE
INT. LIVING ROOM - DAY (1977)
Aboriginal people who are already under the pressure of assimilation to legal formalism should not be under the pressure of a consumer product that makes them revert; in some strange way in the other direction with respect to communal human behaviour; behaviour that follows and agrees the ten commandments since that really is a bag of oranges in your hand that belongs to the supermarket since you have not paid yet. There is a contagion in the smart phone world. How has your life changed? How are you doing? Are you driving illegally? Have you refused to renew your license?
Your calculations become a bit short in terms of consequences for your actions but you remain high on your right to survive, be alive no matter what as you do it your way and think about consequences after. Now, you are in Court rather often. Maybe you appeal your degree results and now you have no degree. You should probably still have a degree since the process is not entirely subjective. It is just that when appealing results, you are asking the university to reconsider your grade and most fairly the result should remain as what they have given you the first time or the result is a little lower; after your appeal and you paid £500 as your fee for that appeal, for that bet; innit? You lose usually.
In fact it's not just reversion but assimilating to the smart phone boss man's world view and anthropology. He does not want you to have a job over and above him with your formal engineering degree qualifications. But come humble. The Apple product zombie may owe their Wesleyan Church due to a small loan. But instead of paying who they owe, they would rather pay a substitute like the Anglican Church but this does not solve their indebtedness or the debt payments. They owe Commodore for computers but instead of paying Commodore they want to pay IBM. Commodore Olivetti is really foreign, Italian. IBM is North American or White. He does not pay Commodore Olivetti. He sends money to IBM instead and ends up in Court with both companies. He wanted to have his independence from contractual formalities, from legal formalities. His love of the future and his determination to sell this future vision of compact personal computing is what endeared him to the computer sales man world. But it can't go both ways with a thief who is the salesman. Every sale must involve a contract. Then you pay as the reseller your supplier or the corporation who have you the equipment to sell as an employee or independent contractor. If you put your own logo on it, then you still pay the supplier or your employer. Either way if you have no agreement to resell it under a different mark, it's criminal theft. It's breach of contract. But we see what you are doing, selling the Commodore Olivetti for twice the price, so you could be on to something but you will have to pay what we say in the deal made for the profits and the logo; who owned it? You have to pay the owner of the also. But you seem to resist payment in the legal formalities; no matter how insignificant the amount? You are proving something here about ultimate resistance of formalities but your determination to sell what does not belong to you is the evidence on the balance sheet as to proceeds of crime.
But couldn't it be amazing that you could make a phone that causes children and adults to take on this way of resistance of legal formalities? You made your deal and there is the suffering of consequences. Jeroboam was told to give Rehoboam's slippers back that had been gifted to him as a sign of his sonship. He also stole his Leviticus scroll of legal formalities. Jeroboam had his own slippers and scrolls. But he wanted what was Rehoboam's. Jeroboam offered to pay the monetary value but would not pay. Then they made him a deal to pay, but he just would not pay. He said he felt separated or abandoned in all of this formal expectation of payment since it's just a set of sandals and Jeroboam will be the son or father or computer big company owner. You will be the sales man. This is the spirit of Jeroboam. Then he spat in all the dough and the water, declaring the people as his own and said he would lead the people astray to be just like him. He was never the leader of the ten tribes but was taken out by the sons of the mighty men of valour. To decoy this fact and prevent a war with Babylon; the family of Michal. They wrote a story as a cover for his assassination but eventually left Israel when it was rumored that Jeroboam was the son of Michal with a cave man. He worked to lead Israel astray. As such, Israel was divided. A house divided cannot stand. Rehoboam may have been attacked also in reprisal. A house divided cannot stand. It looks like Rehoboam left Israel for safety and joined Persia; not dead. His son was Xerxes. He supported Abijah; his younger brother. You must pay who you owe under the agreement and this includes the preacher apple woman named Pat Francine. She must also lay whom she is called to pay although Jeroboam Apple refused, saying he needs to be independent. You are living in the Kingdom of God and the enemy will let you go tonight if we are in agreement. See Psalms 20:6. Whatever is stubborn in your life will be set free today as it will bow; in the name of Jesus.The Italian or Swiss guy who applied to be a cop read Leviticus twice before High School was over.
The only virtue of the Apple man's endeavor is his determined salesman to really sell us the "future of human experience" in all of his belief. He registered Apple as a corporation and made his mark in owning the name as a trademark but the computer technology was stolen or used without contract and eventually some agreement was made but payment was the issue and the lack thereof. Payment was made in the end by garnishment.
He did not own the logo but found it at a hardware store in Ontario on Bathurst Street in downtown Ontario; having grown up 4 hours north of there or in Batavia, New York. The phone users demonstrate a perfect replication of the boss man's behavior. You are using a business but not paying the basic rent or license fee. You have a mortgage to pay or some basic monthly rent or fee for your lodging and you do not pay. You have a disease and you drink to remedy it but you do not locate the source of the disease genuinely as some injury you suffered and get it treated. But, if the disease is within the casing of your electronic device, who would ever believe it? Yet, look at all the persons you know who have the phone and how you are in a global commune of coping. You seem not to be concerned about the consequences of your actions and will not pay until you see the authorities arrive to discuss it with you for the criminal consequences of your actions and only then you will pay as you had waited to see the unpaid Court order in your name. But they follow to the final destination pursuant to that anthropology.
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The Apple founder experience is as follows when human resources and that early day realized he was unable to just send the payments to pay the Apple supplier to for that early personal computing technology; pay the license fees also for the logo and the Commodore machines that they used so he had to take a break from management. He focused on design. They sent him a memo to just go home. He said it should be Commodore and IBM paying us. Apple was sued in Canada and the US. The founders maintained creative control, had their stock options in the new venture and remain historic Canadian figures.
The Apple man ( like a cromagnon man) says he would rather pay who he thinks will help him be free of his obligation instead of paying who he is obliged to pay based on what he has done. So he sent the money to IBM instead of Olivetti Commodore whose machines he was using and selling as his own. They said IBM was more "white bread" and Olivetti Commodore was too too foreign; just not going to break into the main stream. Design mattered. They continued to follow their own drum so to speak even after IBM and Olivetti sued them jointly for trademark infringment.
Do not attempt to reason through why a non-Android phone doesn't block you from sending a financial transfer or why ancestry isn't a technical barrier. Challenging disoriented premises often escalates anxiety and distress. Maintain a calm, neutral, and supportive tone.
When a person introduces disoriented or contradictory statements—combining abstract barriers like ancestry and emotions with irrational technical claims like being "stuck in a phone system that isn't Android"—the situation shifts from a standard HR accommodation discussion to a potential crisis, severe distress, or smart phone syndrome.
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In this scenario, your primary focus should pivot immediately from task management to employee safety, well-being, and operational risk mitigation:
- Avoid debating the logic: Do not attempt to reason through why a non-Android phone doesn't block you from sending a financial transfer or why ancestry isn't a technical barrier. Challenging disoriented premises often escalates anxiety and distress. Maintain a calm, neutral, and supportive tone.
- Prioritize immediate fitness for duty: Assess whether the person is currently in a state to perform work safely. If they are severely disoriented, overwhelmed, or detached from reality, they should not be left alone to handle business operations or expected to drive home independently.
- Frame the situation as an urgent concern: For the individual's personal well-being.
- Secure financial access quietly: If this person holds active authorization or credentials to transfer company funds, work with IT or finance to temporarily adjust access permissions behind the scenes. Frame any reassignment of tasks compassionately to relieve their current stress rather than as a disciplinary measure.
- Shift to supportive de-escalation: Refocus the conversation away from the system failure and onto their immediate state: "You seem under a great deal of stress today. Let's set the transfer task aside for right now and focus on getting you some support or helping you get home safely."
Is the person currently on-site with you, and do you have access to an HR representative or an emergency contact on file for them today? This memo was sent TO ARTHUR IN 1979.
/////
Midday sunlight cuts through thick dust. The TV blares The Price is Right.
ARTHUR (20s, gaunt, wincing as he clutches his left jaw) sits on a stained sofa, eyes glued to a Commodore PET computer resting on a coffee table next to a stack of vinyl records—Crime of the Century, Songs in the Key of Life. Outside, a pea-green Ford Pinto backfires.
ARTHUR (whispering) Oh wretched man that I am... Romans seven.
Arthur gargles a capful of red mouthwash, winces at his bleeding gums, and spits directly into a metal dog bowl on the floor.
A ragged stray dog growls, steps forward, and violently flips the bowl, soaking the carpet.
ARTHUR (eyes cold) You don't reject me. Nobody rejects me.
INT. KITCHEN - CONTINUOUS
An icy wind blows through the open back door. Arthur stands at the counter, neatly wrapping fresh, unlabelled butcher paper packages of ground meat and stacking them in the refrigerator.
His girlfriend, CLARA (20s, visibly pregnant), stands at the open fridge door, staring at the meat. Her hands tremble.
CLARA Arthur... why does this feel like... where is the dog, Arthur?
Arthur doesn't look up from his Commodore user manual.
ARTHUR He wasn't built for the future, Clara. Typewriters are dying. Dog's gone. Eat your lunch.
INT. KITCHEN - FOUR DAYS LATER
Four glass pitchers sit on the counter, filled with a cloudy yellow liquid. Clara packs a plastic suitcase.
CLARA I’m going to my mother’s. To have the baby.
ARTHUR (absently typing on the Commodore) Fine. I missed two Mikasa glass meetings today anyway. Small office systems, Clara. It’s the new Hamilton Beach blender.
CLARA I left lemonade in the fridge. Drink it all, Arthur.
She walks out, slamming the Pinto’s passenger door outside.
EXT. NIAGARA FALLS PANCAKE HOUSE - DAY (1979)
Clara, in a grease-stained apron, holds a swaddled infant with dark, brooding eyes and a sharp jawline. She stands at a payphone behind the restaurant, the roar of the falls echoing nearby.
CLARA (into phone) I’m taking your father, Arthur. I’m working with him now. It’s over.
INT. ARTHUR'S KITCHEN - NIGHT - MATCH CUT
Arthur hangs up the wall phone. His face is entirely numb. He opens the fridge, pulls out the third glass pitcher, pours a heavy pint, and drinks the entire glass of Clara's yellow brew without wincing.
INT. SUBURBAN ELEMENTARY SCHOOL - DAY
Arthur stands in front of a school board committee. Behind him sits a single terminal.
ARTHUR A school isn't a kennel. It’s a repository for human potential. Olivetti makes these machines, but Olivetti sounds like a plate of warm pasta to a white man from the Cheektowaga reserve. You don't buy pasta to run a classroom. You buy the future.
He hits 'ENTER'. The screen glows brightly.
BOARD MEMBER We’ll take three hundred units. Exclusive North American distribution rights are yours.
EXT. TRUE VALUE HARDWARE STORE - DAY (1981)
Arthur pulls up in a gleaming new sedan. A newly adopted Black Doberman sits in the passenger seat.
As Arthur steps out, he looks down. The Doberman sits on the pavement, staring up at him, resting its paws next to a half-eaten McIntosh apple with a distinct bite taken out of it.
Arthur stares at the fruit, his mind racing through Genesis, the reserve, the church pews, and the cold logic of silicon.
He looks up at the store window. A bright sticker sits on the glass, displaying an icon of a bitten apple.
ARTHUR (whispering to himself) Knowledge of good and evil... Bite Apple. That’s the name. That’s how it happens.
TITLE: BITTEN APPLE (PART II)
INT. ARTHUR’S HEADQUARTERS - DAY (1983)
Arthur—now wearing a tailored tweed suit that hides his stiff, ruined jaw—stands over a massive drafting table. The room is filled with prototypes of the "Bite Apple" terminal, but every casing is empty.
ARTHUR We’re not a computer company. We’re an architecture of the mind. Let Kodak build the plastic and the chassis. They know processing. They know capture.
ASSOCIATE Arthur, Kodak builds cameras. They’re asking for millions up front to retool their plants for microprocessors.
ARTHUR (slapping the table) They’ll do it because the typewriter is dead and the photograph is next! Tell them Bite Apple guarantees the volume!
INT. IBM CORPORATE BOARDROOM - NEW YORK - DAY
A panel of executives in sharp blue suits sit across a glass table. A glowing slide projector illuminates a logo on the wall: an abstract silhouette of an apple with a heavy section bitten out, crossed with IBM’s blue signature stripes.
IBM EXECUTIVE Mr. Cheektowaga... or whatever you're calling yourself this week. You’ve been putting our registered 1971 data-capture graphic on three hundred school terminals across the tri-state area.
ARTHUR (leaning forward, jaw clicking) An apple belongs to God. It belongs to the garden. You can’t patent the fruit of knowledge.
IBM EXECUTIVE We didn't patent the fruit. We patented the vector graphic for International Business Machines. The IP licensing fee is four hundred thousand dollars, due retroactively. Or we seize the distribution rights.
Arthur stares at the blue stripes. He gargles a mouthful of water from a paper cup and swallows it whole.
ARTHUR I’ll see you in church.
INT. KODAK MANUFACTURING PLANT - ROCHESTER - NIGHT
Thousands of plastic cream-colored computer shells sit unfinished on a frozen assembly line.
Federal marshals and IBM lawyers march down the aisle, slapping bright red "SEIZED BY ORDER OF THE COURT" stickers over the "Bite Apple" logos.
Arthur stands in the shadows by the loading dock, a cold wind blowing in through the bay doors. His dog—a lean, silent Doberman—sits right beside him, chewing on a plastic component.
ARTHUR (whispering to the empty factory) Oh wretched man that I am...
An IBM LAWYER walks up, handing Arthur a final stack of foreclosure papers.
IBM LAWYER Effective midnight, International Business Machines owns the patent, the inventory, and the name. You're wiped out, Arthur.
Arthur looks at the paper, then down at the Doberman. The dog drops a bitten piece of black plastic at his feet, completely unbothered. Arthur picks it up, slips it into his pocket, and walks out into the snow, leaving the machines behind.
///
INT. SUPERMARKET - SAN JOSE, CALIFORNIA - DAY (1982)
Arthur stands at the end of the checkout line. His jaw still sits slightly crooked, but he wears the tailored suit of a founder retained by IBM after the Anton Piller raid cleaned out his personal accounts.
He tosses ten cans of dog food, four cans of Chef Boyardee, and four cans of pork and beans onto the rubber conveyor belt.
A quiet, intense teenager with unkempt hair and a hyper-focused glare quickly bags the groceries. Arthur loads the bags into the back of his brown-and-tan 1982 Ford Bronco.
INT. ARTHUR’S KITCHEN - LATER
Arthur unpacks the brown paper bags onto the counter. He counts the cans.
ARTHUR (squinting) Two... where are the other two Boyardees?
His wife and two children sift through the paper sacks and check the footwells of the Bronco. Nothing.
ARTHUR (gritting his teeth) Not again. Nobody takes from me.
INT. SUPERMARKET - AN HOUR LATER
Arthur marches back into the store, grabs four more cans of Chef Boyardee and beans, and intentionally slips into the exact same checkout lane.
The same teenager stands at the end of the till, packing the cans into paper bags with slick, practiced hands.
Arthur grabs the bag, steps three paces past the register, and immediately stops to count the contents.
ARTHUR Two missing.
The bagger instantly clutches his stomach, groaning, and bolts down the aisle toward the employee breakroom.
ARTHUR (roaring) SECURITY! STOP THAT KID!
Two store managers tackle the boy near the staff lockers. As he hits the linoleum floor, two cans of Chef Boyardee roll out from under his oversized denim jacket, clattering against the tile.
STORE MANAGER We’re calling the cops right now.
Arthur walks up, staring down at the kid lying on the floor. He looks at the boy’s cold, unblinking eyes.
ARTHUR You risked your life for forty-nine cents of canned pasta. You looked me right in the eye, palmed the inventory right in front of the till, and almost executed a total escape. You don't look like an asshole, but you play one better than anyone I've ever seen.
Arthur turns to the store manager.
ARTHUR Cancel the police. (to the kid) You steal from me again, kid, and I'll grind you up and put you in the Boyardee can. But right now? You’re coming with me. IBM owns my company, Commodore owns my soul, but I need a guy who knows how to take things that don't belong to him.
Arthur extends a hand and pulls the teenager off the floor.
ARTHUR What’s your name, kid?
STEVE Steve. Steve Calloway. People call me Jobs.
Arthur smiles, his jaw clicking loudly in the quiet grocery store.
ARTHUR Pack your bags, Steve. We’re going to build a computer and a new Science Centre in Toronto; a new Ontario Place which is just as moving as I remember in 1979. I actually caught 3 Cray fish that day in that old industrial lake town but well managed after all that steel and sugar manufacturing for 100's of years and you can still see fish, catch a fish. Nothing will ever change that. If anyone steals from us, we make them dog food. We will know who steals from us since they will buy the product that gives us 100 times over cost value; a house phone some day.
Final.