Mr Robot’s episodes are peppered with Chekov’s guns. An insert shot of a Signal message. A spoken line cut off mid-word. You can practically hear the metaphorical rounds loaded into the metaphorical rifle. It means something right? It has to. Sam Esmail is no J.J. Abrams right? The secret box isn’t empty.

And the guns do fire. One by one. All is explained. Phase 2. Bang. Lucky Irish Bastard. Bang. The Other One. Bang.

Except for Whiterose’s machine. It is turned on but never allowed to boot. We all want to know: does it fucking work!?

But Mr Robot doesn’t tell. The credits roll as if to say, who gives a shit?

Indeed, who gives a shit? The machine is a symbol. An idea. It says to us, reality doesn’t matter if you can manifest a better one. Does it matter if an entire town is wiped out by radioactive fallout? Does it matter that the salves working in the coltan mines in the Congo now slave under the thumb of Whiterose? Does any of it matter if you can reshape reality as you see fit?

It doesn’t matter that only Whiterose decides what perfect. You have no vote, you have no voice. This oligarch will decide for humanity what’s best because she knows better of course, and she will get what she wants even if a few bullets need to be united with some heads.

Do you get it? Whiterose is Elon Musk. The machine is his ambition.

He will bust your unions, overwork you to your bones, destroy your reputation, all to get what he wants. He’s trying to save humanity, don’t you see? Sure, his method of saving humanity involves hurting actual human beings but you know, something about cracking eggs and omelettes. And in his Mars colony, who decides what’s perfect? Spoiler alert it ain’t you.

Billionaires will not save us. They will save themselves. Who gives a shit if Whiterose’s machine works? The machine is evil. It is rotten to the core. It is too big to NOT fail.