1001 Nights in the Facility

1001 Nights in the Facility [Unexpurgated] – Short Film

Episode 1: Keep Pace with the System

This short film is a manifesto told in medias res, an homage to One Thousand and One Arabian Nights. Lara becomes both Scheherazade and Lara Croft, whispering stories to stave off restlessness. Marquis is both the Marquis de Sade and a Shiv Roy-like heir to Render Enterprises, from HBO’s Succession. Like King Shahryar of the original tales, she holds the power to decide whether the stories continue. She is the heir apparent, though her father still bellows at her, “Stop calling your brother Fredo!” — a name she uses for him without affection. To Marquis, her brother is inept and in her way. She knows she is the real CEO.

On the court, Vegas has won twelve straight. Not by luck. Not by hustle. By machine. The Facility.

A neural court that remembers legendary systems — the Jackson (Phil Jackson’s triangle), the Flex, and the Princeton — rebuilt live as glowing choreography under the players’ feet. No shouting. No pointing. Plays trigger when rhythm aligns. The floor feels them, corrects them, and makes the game intuitive.

Manny, the janitor — an unreliable narrator — who remembers every word, tells it like scripture. Chuck Buko, a Bukowski-style podcaster, smokes and scoffs. And inside one of Marquis’ many estates, Lara whispers her doubts — about them, about the Facility — only to be checked:

“Yet you chose to stay. Take it from me — Life is a business. The biggest, the longest, the most important one you’ll ever run. You are the LLC, the INC, and the CEO of your life.”

The film strips basketball down to systems, stories, and choices. Marquis studies Lara like a dream. Lara buys one more night with a story. Chuck calls it myth, casino math, a stacked deck. Manny shrugs: “I’m a basketball head.”

This is not chance. Not destiny. It’s management. The Facility is AI-powered, relentless. It doesn’t just host the game. It rewrites it.

And when the credits roll, the only measure left is glory:

Roll credits. Count the rings.

Creative Platforms & Tools:

Artlist.io – Licensed music and sound effects
ChatGPT (OpenAI) – AI-assisted scriptwriting and narrative development
MidJourney – AI-generated concept imagery and character visualization
iMovie – Video editing and sequencing
Canva – Graphic design and text treatments
ElevenLabs – AI-powered voice narration
Other Production Tools – Standard video/audio processing and conceptual design tools

Credits:

Music

Chardonnay
Song by The Original Orchestra feat. Ran Raiten

Float
Song by Notize

It Hurts
Song by RIPPLES, Paper Plastic, Flint, ZISO

Farewell to a Warrior
Song by Jakub Pietras

Out of Reach – Alternative version
Song by Ziv Moran, Alma Zohar

Footage

Sweet, Gastronomic, Brunch, Delicacy
Clip by Creative Light

Cocktails, Drinks, Night Out, Club
Clip by Omri Ohana

Fabric, Linen, Texture, Cloth
Clip by Via Films

Hills, Dress, Elegant, Stylish
Clip by Morten Lovechild

Foot, Surfer, Sea, Beach
Clip by Matic Oblak

Residence, Home, Real Estate, House
Clip byHugo Will

Eye, Futuristic, Tech, Hud
Clip by DAVLEHA

Prompt, Conditions, Terms, Internet
Clip by Bruno Tornielli

Sound Effects

Bathroom- Faucet
SFX by Clap Studios

🏀 Legendary & Renowned Basketball Systems

🔹 Offense Systems

Triangle Offense – Phil Jackson / Tex Winter
➝ Sideline triangle with weakside actions. Built for spacing, read-react, and high IQ play. Powered MJ, Pippen, Kobe, Shaq.
Motion Offense – Bob Knight
➝ No set plays. Constant movement, screens, and reads. Promotes IQ, cutting, and unselfish teamwork.
Princeton Offense – Pete Carril
➝ Backdoor cuts, constant motion, smart spacing. Slower tempo with cerebral execution.
Flex Offense – Various Coaches
➝ Continuity offense. Screens + cuts + interchangeable positions. Equal scoring opportunities.
7 Seconds or Less – Mike D’Antoni
➝ High-octane tempo. Pace-and-space, early shots. Phoenix Suns + Steve Nash era classic.
Spread Pick & Roll – Erik Spoelstra, D’Antoni, Carlisle
➝ Modern staple. 4-out, 1-in spacing. Creates room for ball handler dominance.
Dribble Drive Motion (DDM) – John Calipari
➝ Attack gaps, kick out to shooters. Relies on quick guards breaking down defenses.

🔹 Defense Systems

Pack Line Defense – Tony Bennett
➝ Sagging man-to-man. Shrinks the floor. Blocks drives. Demands rotation discipline.
Zone Defense (2-3, 1-3-1, 3-2) – Jim Boeheim (2-3)
➝ Force outside shots. Uses length + anticipation.
Switch Everything – Steve Kerr / Erik Spoelstra
➝ Positionless defense. Switch all screens. IQ and communication critical.
Full Court Press – Nolan Richardson
➝ “40 Minutes of Hell.” Chaos, traps, steals. Fatigue as a weapon.

🎶 Shout-Outs & Influences

Christopher Wallace (Biggie Smalls) – I Got a Story to Tell 🖤
➝ Dual POVs, metafiction, layered storytelling.
The Police – Synchronicity I 🌌
➝ Chaos + harmony. Parallel stories in rhythm.
Charles Bukowski – Poet & author
➝ Brutal honesty, cynicism, survival.
Octavio Paz – Author, Nobel Prize Winner
➝ Metaphysical depth. Poetry merging time, culture, and consciousness.
John F. Kennedy Jr. & Robert F. Kennedy – The iconic “huddled” photo
➝ Brotherhood, legacy, and the weight of history.
The Matrix – Original concept + Wachowski Brothers
➝ Reality vs. perception. Philosophical and existential questioning.
Sappho – Ancient Greek poet
➝ Lyric fragments of intimacy and desire.
Quentin Tarantino – Director (Western influences)
➝ Nonlinear storytelling, violence-as-poetry, and genre rebellion.
Las Vegas Aces & Becky Hammon – Modern champions
➝ Grit, artistry, reinvention of the game.

✨ Motifs at play: metafiction, dual storytelling, philosophical ruminations, existentialism, self-reliance (agency), juxtaposition, and postmodern fiction.

A Friendly Manifesto for AI in Art

The Quiet War

There’s a quiet war happening between human logic and machine reasoning — between what we intend and what we automate.

Artists feel it most. We live at the intersection of imagination and intrusion, where algorithms mimic memory and creativity gets flattened into pixels, parameters, and patterns. I understand why many feel disillusioned. But I don’t believe this moment is the death of art. I believe it’s the test of it.

When people ask if MIT’s Deploying AI for Strategic Impact course talks about the destruction AI is wreaking on the arts, the answer is yes — in economics, in ethics, and in erosion. The instructors call it “human-centric AI,” meaning systems that must stay tethered to human values, empathy, and oversight. But to me, art has always been the original form of human-centric intelligence — the conscience of every new machine.

Let’s be clear: the grotesqueries are real. The cloned singers, the scraped novels, the “resurrected” actors who never consented — these are not tributes. They are desecrations. The AI recreations of Diana Ross, for example, enrage me. They are soulless — a theft of spirit. I’ve asked creators to stop. That’s not art; it’s mimicry.

And yet, I still defend AI’s potential — as a tool, not a ghostwriter.

I’ve always wanted to see my recurring fantasies projected onto a screen. Since childhood, that’s been the dream — not of control, but of translation. AI allows that. The content doesn’t create me; we are the creators. The tool simply widens the palette of possibility.

In 1001 Nights in the Facility, the woman known as Lara — my Scheherazade — is not AI. She’s real, a licensed motif who represents endurance, self-reliance, and survival through storytelling. She embodies the lesson that drives all my work: our lives are a business, and our choices are our own.

The music in 1001 Nights in the Facility is also entirely human — real jazz and orchestral compositions performed by working musicians who meet quarterly and make beautiful music together. None of it is AI-generated. Every note carries a heartbeat.

The Vertical Club, 1987

One New Year’s Eve — I think it was 1987 — I decided to go to the Vertical Club in L.A. I was stationed at Vandenberg AFB, about an hour and a half away. I booked a hotel room and put on my Betsey Johnson dress — back when Betsey predated Balenciaga and was extraordinary without having to be a Purple Cow like Balenciaga.

Cher was on the ad: long legs, leotards, vertical lines. That night, I met a man and we danced until the lights blurred. Later, upstairs on the balustrade, a Black man in a suit — a big, linebacker-type — stopped me and asked, “You want to go to a party?”

He opened a door and said, “David Lee Roth.” And there he was, surrounded by a wall of blonde girls. I thought: I’m a Tech Sergeant in the United States Air Force, with a line number for Master Sergeant. This is not becoming of a noncommissioned officer. I smiled, said, “No, thank you,” and walked away.

Years later, it was reported — and often repeated as industry lore — that DLR allegedly favored his road crew with bonuses when he “fancied” the women they brought him. Whether true or not, it crystallized something for me: whatever world you walk into, you are responsible for your choices.

I thought about Showgirls that night — the fictional inversion of what might have been. In that story, a Black dancer accepts the invitation and pays the price. I’ve never forgotten that parallel.

That moment has stayed with me, not because of who was behind the door, but because of who didn’t walk through it.

Why 1001 Nights in the Facility Exists

That’s the pulse of 1001 Nights in the Facility — not AI, not fame, but discernment. Knowing the difference between story and spectacle, humanity and imitation.

The film isn’t about technology. It’s about restraint — about knowing where story ends and spectacle begins, where humanity ends and imitation begins.

The Shout-Outs & Influences — Biggie, Bukowski, Octavio Paz, The Police’s Synchronicity — define its structure: juxtaposition. Chaos against harmony. Human logic against machine reasoning.

When used with intention, AI doesn’t erase our humanity — it refracts it. It reminds us that every story, every system, still comes down to choice.

And that’s what art has always been about: who you are when the door opens.

Are you old enough to be here?

1001 Nights in the Facility