|
|
 |
Fiction |
|
 |
|
Last Updated: 27/06/2005 14:26:16
The analysis of the VHS tapes have come back.
Keith reports back that indeed one of the tapes did contain episodes of He-Man, along with
Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles, Inspector Gadget and Battle of the Planets.
Be worth something to an animaphile out there.
I will stick it on eBuy-GUM, the online Global Underground Marketplace.
I'm sure I'll get a few credits for it, or swap it for some more books, or get some parts
to retro-fit my jumble of aging video, audio and ancient computing gadgets and gizmos.
|
|
|
Anyway, it was the second tape that yielded more interesting stuff by all accounts.
Keith thinks it is some kind of TV game-show, but he hasn't been able to place it yet
among the piles of faded and dog-eared TV schedules of yester-year.
He says it is of
the kind that was popular during the first quarter of the century, a genre
of programming that proliferated across the hundreds of TV channels, a genre known collectively as Reality TV.
|
|
A phenomenon that has now all but died out started back in the latter decades of the
20th Century, but such programming dried-up with the development and global distribution
of the first mass-market Tru-Cam. TCTV has since taken over the world of TV entertainment. People simply just watch each other all the time. People watching people watching people. Reality TV as was, now taken to its most mundane extreme to become little more than banality TV.
It has reached the point now, where people have been known to have caught themselves up in a perpetual viewing loop.
|
|
I heard a story once were two people died while watching each other. The story goes that they were watching each other waiting for the other to do something, like an insane game of staring each other out. They sat for days and days, just watching, not moving, slowly dying. This went on and on, until they both just died where they sat, Tru-Cam's still on, recording there now decomposing bodies.
|
Now I accept that this is likely an urban myth, but a prophetic one if nothing else.
No-one ever meets up anymore, no-one ever interacts in the normal human physical face-to-face way.
It's all done via some Bio-device or another, empathising by being and all that Neo-Matrix-Age bullshit.
Reality TV as it became known, didn't start this obsession we have with watching each other,
that started long ago, and is part of who we are as beings.
We need to be for others, to be part of the spectacle, to validate our own existence.
|
|
|
However, the phenomenon of Reality TV was a significant surface of emergence
as far as the who watches the watchmen issue is concerned.
|
|
Everyone embraced the Orwellian notion of a surveillance society.
The authoritarianism of Big Brother became entertainment for the masses.
They had their hour of hate, while screaming at the poor volunteers trapped in the fake
reality created by TV executives and mad media minds.
And therefore, for all these reasons, such matters have become one of my particular areas of study and interest. It also seemed that Alan's area of interest was similar too. I recovered these undated fragments. They all came from the same document, and seems to be general pixelated musings he committed to the screen.
|
I've tried meditating on a number of occasions, but I can't clear my mind for more than a few seconds. I don't exist without thinking, I think constantly. I don't mean in the cogito sense, as it's commonly understood. What I think about are things, abstractions, not of this moment. There are those who'd argue that there is only this moment; that beyond this moment there is nothingness.
Reality is just a simulation, time an illusion, never real just a sub-standard reproduction of a fleeting moment lost to an ever fading sensorial history. Reality is the after image, briefly branded into us, quick to fade away often leaving us with some residual scaring on those more momentously impressive occasions…
|
|
|
Fiction - Scissors, Paper, Stone! By Bob Spence
|
|
The Lord Nelson was your typical run-down seventies pub. The decor was in disarray, with half a mind to venerate the Royal Navy's biggest hero or to catch the eye of the potential clientele with the latest fashion. In this manner it achieved neither.
Mickey was the prototype glass collector for every
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Off To See The Wild West Show Part 9 (1886: Hull, Yorkshire) By Frank Beill
|
|
'Not seen nowt like it!' George was sitting on his favourite seat - the kitchen doorstep. 'Them horses was wonderful.'
Dinner was over and most of my stew was inside him as well as his own double portion.
'But it was me father.' I was not listening and stamped my foot.
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Drowning, Swimming By Joe Hakim
|
|
Keith sat and stared at his wife, who was holding his daughter and staring at the
28" Philips Widescreen TV situated in the corner of his house, on his laminate floor,
flanked at either side by his Sony sound system and his X-Box.
He was sweating and his head was throbbing - the general effects of the weekend
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Welcome To Hellville - Part 5 By Rich Mills
|
|
I slept the long sleep, dead to the world; I lost a day in there somewhere.
Now refreshed I'm ready to start transcribing what I've found.
The two VHS video tapes seem to contain a variety of TV programmes.
I'm going to get Keith down to give these the
Read more...
|
|
Fiction - The Death and Birth and Death of a Legend By Bob Spence
|
|
Goober liked to be busy. Some people could handle doing nothing, not Goober Walton.
Running the tidy but ancient gasoline concession suited. Suited well.
It was orderly and everything clearly had its place.
Some would say it looked almost military in its order and for that it
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Feller's in Cut By Maurice Fairfield
|
|
Well that's her gone. You don't remember me do you?
I'll have a pint while you're thinking about it.
It's me Jack, Harry Fergus's son. Here for the funeral.
Thought I'd see her get put under. Not sure why.
It's always a laugh though, watching a parson doing a
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Kat Out of the Bag Chapter Nine By Steve Rudd
|
|
Life is a race against time, didn't you know? Sometimes I'm worn out by my own energy, but as we four
walked first towards Langtang, right on through the cosy cluster of weather-beaten buildings and
then so far past the village that even the strangely surreal
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Fishheads By Michelle Dee
|
|
Monstrous silver and blue -green severed fish heads emerged at the forefront of her mind.
Open, close, open, close the gaping mouths. She fancied there were others behind it.
Each time the razor sharp teeth were bared she looked into the blacker than
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Firm but Fair By Mark Pollard
|
|
Cry-Baby Jim Breaks. He pioneered it, they say.
And the hushed, almost ecclesiastical tones of Ken Walton had heralded it's
entry into Saturday afternoon folklore: the bright lights of
Blackpool and Great Yarmouth, down to the lesser reputes of Ilfracombe and
Skegness had all borne witness
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Puzzles By Denis Price
|
|
I've got a really nice room, when the door's closed I feel ever so safe and warm. It's quiet as well,
just the swish of the wind in the trees outside. I like the trees; they hide the big tall fence.
My watchers say the fence is there to keep me safe, and that's their job too, they're always there
Read more...
|
|
Fiction - COLD WAR TALES- THE CUBAN MISSILE CRISIS By Denis Price
|
|
The piercing insistent wail of the siren woke him. `For Christ`s sake now what!` Over the tannoy the
smooth expensive voice intoned languidly that this was only a drill and that all personnel
should continue with their normal duties.
He groaned and thought, this is my normal
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Scrawls Of The Unexpected By Mark Pollard
|
|
Professor Colin Pillinger, lead scientist on the Beagle II programme, was calm but well pissed off
inside. He had been clinging to the idea that his £35 million Mars Probe was stuck in a crater,
waiting for some narrow rays of sunlight to banish the shade for a few precious hours each day
in order that
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - A Short Story - The Beaver Stalker By The J.E.M. Cult
|
|
I stepped out into the cold frosty air.
I pulled my muffler tighter round my hands and crunched across the frozen grass. Today was the first day of the beaver season- and by golly, I was sure gonna get me one.
I love beavers. I can't help it. There's just something about stroking that damp fur that sends me
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - The Art Of Being Alone In A Crowded Bar By Rich Mills
|
|
What music are you into, man? The American exchange student who had earlier introduced himself, without any regard for Jean-Paul's need to be alone, suddenly threw a curve-ball of a question in his direction.
Well I listen to... What followed was a definitive list of bands from Jean-Paul's wide ranging rare vinyl
Read more...
|
|
|
Fiction - Old Tired & Completely Rucked By Martin Dale
|
|
Of course, I used to be big league me. Right up there with the bigwigs I was. Every game I'd be out there, working my socks off for the club.
I'd be at the bottom of every ruck, in the thick of every maul, I'd cover more of the pitch than anyone else on the team.
Pretty good really, now that I come to think about it,
Read more...
|
|
|
|
|
| What's Happening? |
|
|
|
| Chill Out |
|
|
|
| About Us |
 |
|
|
|
|
|
|
|