by Lee McGeorge
headlights turned towards him the beams arrived at his eyes by some twisting or spiralling motion. His vision felt sharper, his flesh felt attuned to the surroundings, his hearing fidelity improved. Good God, something was happening. Something good. Something pleasant and enjoyable.
He entered the home and began shedding clothes. He wanted to shower to feel the pressure of the water droplets hitting his skin. He kicked away his shoes and stepped out of his trousers then spent a moment alone and nude in his apartment. His arms stretched wide, his head filled with colours. It felt as though the texture of the carpet was moving and… Good God… was he hallucinating? It wasn’t a truly discernible hallucination, rather he felt on the precipice of an experience that had yet to manifest itself. Is this how Albert Hofmann had felt on his infamous bicycle ride when he discovered LSD?
He took to the telephone. “Peter, it’s Brian. How are you feeling right now?”
“Euphoric,” Fluorite said back. “What the hell did you put in that TV signal? I feel like I can touch God.”
----- X -----
George, the newly recruited videotape editor put the box of cassettes on the table. “Okay, this is what you asked for. I’ve numbered them one to ten. V-Test One is mostly violence with a little bit of sex. I spliced in a bikini contest with some hardcore death clips.” He picked up the end cassette. “Up here at V-Test Ten, we’ve got hardcore porn mixed with cheesy TV violence. Some aggressive full-penetration cock and pussy action intercut with Charles Bronson out for revenge.”
Fluorite ran his finger along them and stopped at V-Test Five. “What do you have midrange?”
“In the middle I used war reporting for the violence. Soldiers getting field dressings, a bit of blood but not too ghastly. I cut this together with some Baby Blues taken off the local networks. Sleazy stuff, but… you know… what they can get away with. Tits covered in baby oil, that sort of thing. ”
“I hate those networks.” Fluorite said. “They’re rotting society away. What do you think, Brian? Will TV be our ruin?”
Brian approached the table. “I believe Pornography and violence are by-products of societies in which private identity has been destroyed. A destruction by sudden environmental change.”
Fluorite and George both paused as they took in the meaning. “What environmental change?” George asked.
“Television itself has reshaped the environment. We used to live in a world shaped by books, then by radio. These environments have been minimised by television. That is what I mean by destruction of environment; we have destroyed the environment shaped by books and replaced it with game shows and whatever else comes through the cathode ray tube.” Brian took V-Test Five and put it into the video deck. It was as George described. Topless women in a sauna, a man lifting weights with sweat across his muscled abdomen, a soldier holding a bloody rag against his eye in a news bulletin, dead bodies beside a burning tank, an attractive couple deep kissing surrounded by candles, men chaining up another man in homoerotic bondage, a woman in lingerie slowly opening her legs to the camera.
“Like I said,” George added. “Middle of the road stuff. Down at number one it’s violent as fuck whilst at number ten it’s wall to wall porn. This is what you wanted, right? Pornography and violence scaled across the spectrum?”
“It is,” Brian said. “It’s perfect.”
----- X -----
The Consec psychologist was an older man with a completely bald head and thick rimmed glasses. He brought with him his analysis of the V-Test results and passed copies to Brian and Peter Fluorite, then lit a pipe. “It is quite remarkable what the V-Tests have shown.” He puffed tobacco smoke into the air as he spoke. “But the one thing that really startled me was the importance of removing context.”
Fluorite flicked through a few pages of the report without really reading. “Why is that important?”
“I would say it brings emotion neutrality. Let me give an example. If you were to see a film of a man shot and killed for no reason it would be terrible violence. You would view that violence in and of itself and your emotional response would be to the violence alone. There would be no narrative, no explanation to cloud your feelings. But let us suppose you preface the story by saying this man had shot up a school playground, that many children had been murdered, then you watched a film of this school gunman who, when cornered by police, was shot and killed. This time, your reaction would not be to the violence exclusively, but rather to the emotions brought forward by the narrative. Your emotional response would be to the story as a whole, not the violence in isolation. I have surmised that the removal of context is an important factor in sharpening the impact of Veraceo. Make sure, when you make your programme, that you keep your material without context.”
“I’m sorry,” Brian interrupted. “Did you just say, when you make your programme?”
Fluorite put his analysis document down, sensing Brian’s confusion. “Did Barry not tell you about this?”
Brian shook his head. “Tell me about what?”
“We’re going to shoot some test video. Make our own content.”
“I haven’t spoken with Barry in a few weeks. What is the proposal? What are we planning on doing?”
Fluorite shuffled on his chair uncomfortably. “I’m sorry, I thought you knew. I was talking with Barry yesterday and I assumed you knew all about this. The idea is we need to test the limits of Veraceo, but the V-Test videos George is cutting together are assembled from stock footage and he’s struggling to find the right sort of material. Now that we understand Veraceo works with sex and violence, we’re going to produce something original, soft porn mixed with a little aggression. With this we get to control the exact tone of the programme.”
Brian turned to the psychologist. “And this is what you’re working on?”
“Yes,” the psychologist said. “Mister Convex asked for my input a little over a week ago. That’s what I’m trying to help with. I’m trying to guide you on how to produce your content. As I understand, Consec have already released the funds and provided studio space.”
There was an uncomfortable silence on behalf of Brian. He broke it himself when he asked, “So our content must be without context. What else do we need to know?”
The psychologist puffed some more smoke then went back to his analysis. “I would also remove swearing. Bad language is a form of linguistic violence. It is aggression vocalised, but not only that, it’s analgesic; swearing out loud works as a pain reliever. It’s important because I believe Veraceo works on the deepest levels of the brain. The basal part. The more primitive part of the human mind. If we want to test the Veraceo signal we do not want to colour the results by introducing bad language. Swearing is part of the primitive mind.”
“How do you know that?” Fluorite asked. “How could you know that swearing is based in the primitive part of the human mind?”
“There is a link between ailments like Tourette’s syndrome, dementia and stroke, right back to our childhood development as babies. Young children will scratch and bite and kick when they’re angry. They do this until they learn a few swear words. Once they can swear there is a way to externalise their rage and frustrations through language. If you’ve ever seen a stroke patient when they lose language skills, they often have no problem swearing. I once saw a man who had lost almost all power of speech except for the words ‘fuck’ and ‘shit’. His higher mind was destroyed, but those deep, basal and primitive parts of the mind always function. This is the part of the brain Veraceo seems to work on.”
----- X -----
Machines hummed and a dozen workers in brown coveralls worked at a row of lens grinding stations. Barry Convex watched them from his office. It was still the old manufacturing base, but now they were investing heavily into engineering R&D. Cheap spectacles for the Third World meant an expensive investment. They had to combine all of these machines into a single, reliable unit. If an optometrist got to a village in Kenya, they would need to grind the lens at the
same time. In addition, the end product needed to be a fiftieth of the cost here in Canada. It was tricky and he realised now that whether he succeeded or failed didn’t matter to Consec. The money came from the United Nations and they didn’t expect it back. All the same it would be nice to succeed. It would be nice to have a legacy. He would like to be remembered as Barry Convex, the man who brought sight to the world. His ambition and ego liked that title.
He waved to Brian. “How’s it going, Partner. Enjoying your lab?”
“The lab is wonderful,” Brian said. “How are things here?”
“Spectacular Optical is spectacular indeed. A lot of big things are happening.”
Brian nodded. “I’ve just learned that we’re about to start making some kind of smutty TV showcase for Veraceo. I’ve also just learned that you speak with Peter Fluorite almost every day.”
“Yes, of course. Is something wrong?”
“Why are you talking to him and not me?”
“Oh… I’m sorry, Brian. If you wanted me you only needed to pick up the phone. I didn’t want to disturb you and thought it best to let you get on with things, you know, bury yourself in research and enjoy discovering. To be honest, I thought you would get annoyed if I called you every day for an update. What do you need to know?”
“Tell me about this video production. That would be a good start.”
“Sure. Well, when Peter explained the V-Test results to me I relayed this back to Consec who threw me a half million bucks as a budget and gave us a specialised TV studio in Pittsburgh. I was planning on flying down there this weekend. We can go together. There’s a Consec Partner down there arranging everything. They’ve got a director and a set designer; they’re working with the psychologist about set design and costumes at the moment.”
“Set design?”
Barry nodded. “Yeah. The psychologist wants to try it with different coloured sets. Apparently he thinks colour could be important in how Veraceo impacts the brain.”
Brian shook his head. “It’s not the colour that concerns me, it’s the content. What Peter tells me is we’re going to start making sex movies. This is not an avenue I’m comfortable with.”
“They’re actors. They’re paid for what they do.”
“You don’t have a daughter, Barry. I see this a little differently to you.”
Barry laughed. “Is Bianca still reading those Germaine Greer books? I thought she’d grown out of her teenaged idealism.”
“She hasn’t grown out of anything. She’s matured into a thoughtful and sophisticated woman. But that isn’t what I meant. I find it uncomfortable to be associated with this. Sadomasochism on video? Soft porn with violence? There is a psychology to pornography that if you capture a woman on film, you own that image and by proxy you own the woman. If you had a daughter of your own, you would feel the worry that I feel now. I am going to commoditize someone’s daughter and I worry that I’m on the road to becoming a pornographer.”
Barry laughed hard. “You’re not making porn, you’re testing the science,” Barry laughed until the joke faded to a chuckle. “Wow, you’re putting a lot of philosophy into this. Look, some horny kids or a hooker are going to get a sexy spanking on film. If you want to get involved then go down to Pittsburgh and take a look at what they’re doing; or ignore it and let it just happen. Do you think Consec are interested in making porn? They just want to see what the technology can do.”
“I’m surprised Consec are involving themselves at all.”
“It’s because of your political results. I told Consec how agreeable you made McNamara look and they got excited. They want this thing taken as far as it can go… How far can it go?”
“I think I can push the limits further,” Brian said. “I’ve been working on a way to make the signal stronger and have upgraded the signal generator. Veraceo-Two, if you will.”
“That’s great. Consec are going to love that bit of progress.”
“But should we be giving it to Consec? Ever since we got into bed with them I’ve had doubts. Reservations. Like you said about their interest in manipulating political broadcasts, that’s a monstrous thing. We are giving the power to subvert democracy to a group who think the Soviet invasion of Afghanistan is a good idea.”
“If you spend any time thinking about the Soviets,” Barry said, “you’ll come to the same conclusion as Consec... These communist overlords would love to upend North America. Consec Leader is right when he says there are communists whose sole purpose is to cause us irreparable harm. Imagine if they had invented Veraceo first? They would use it to swing elections here. The genie is out of the bottle, Brian. We can't just un-invent this thing and you should keep that big picture in your head. Go to Pittsburgh, take Veraceo-Two and push this thing to the edge. Learn what it can do and learn how to defend us against its misuse. Worrying about becoming an accidental pornographer is a minor concern when the real focus is maintaining global security.”
----- X -----
In Pittsburgh, Brian was issued with a magnetic entry key by a security guard sitting on the back door. The building looked derelict from the outside. Broken windows had been hastily bricked up from within meaning the broken glass was still visible ahead of the stonework. It was a big place, with four floors and a basement. The guard told him only the ground floor was used for filming, the first floor for post-production and the higher floors for long term storage of sets and props.
“Hello, are you Brian Spectrometer?” A large lady crossed the floor with a cigarette between her lips and her hand held out to shake. “I’m Susan Anthony, Production Manager. Let me introduce you to the team.” She walked him across the main studio floor. It was cold and Brian could see his own breath. The studio had brick walls painted black with high lighting bars suspended from the ceiling. Two broadcast-quality cameras were on floating mounts ahead of a three walled set made of plywood. It was just three walls painted white. There were brackets on the walls and an ominous looking hook hanging in the centre.
“Is this the set? I thought it was going to be coloured?”
“It will be soon. We have control of key light and set light, so they can change the colour of the walls with lighting for now. At least until they figure out which colour is best.”
Susan led them upstairs to a long corridor with doors on either side. She opened one to a room with three women sitting around a table covered in costume sketches. “Ladies, this is Brian, he’s in charge of the Veraceo signal.”
The three women looked up and said, “hello,” in unison.
"Carol is our art director, Denise is in charge of costumes and Deborah is writing the scenarios as she’s an expert on the philosophy of sadomasochism.” There was a mannequin by the door dressed in a black rubber suit with a gasmask and draped in a dirty, cyan-coloured oilskin apron.
“Do you like it?” Denise asked. “It’s the provisional costume for the Punishers, although the psychologist is more inclined to use a hood rather than a gasmask.”
“Why?”
“Depersonalisation. They don’t want the Punishers to look like people. The feeling is the gasmask makes it look like a man in a suit, whereas the hood makes them shapeless as well as faceless. We’re going to shoot some tests this afternoon and see which looks better.”
Susan brought him out of the room and into an editing bay with two other women. “This is Sonja, the director and Lynn the editor.”
“Is everybody involved a woman?” Brian asked looking puzzled. “I didn’t expect that, given the nature of what we’re doing.”
“In technical production, yes,” Sonja said. “The psychologist was concerned that a male production team would subconsciously veer towards eroticising or over-sexualising the content. He felt women would be naturally repulsed and therefore more clinical in the film making.”
“He must think women are sexless.”
Sonja smiled. “I thought that myself for a while. I think he’s worried this would end up as sleazy soft-por
n. He spent a lot of time assessing our, how can I say... feminist credentials. A lot of time went into assessing our attitudes towards pornography.”
Brian took a seat. “This is somehow refreshing. I was afraid of involving myself in such a sleazy enterprise. Can I ask, what is your attitude to pornography?”
“I think the liberal consensus that has persisted over the last few years, the idea that ‘whatever turns you on is fine’ may be wrong headed. I think pornography has nothing to do with freedom of expression as some people say. It’s merely the advertising of prostitution. People see it as entertainment whilst forgetting it’s primarily a business, a ruthless and impersonal industry masked behind glamour and eroticism.”
Brian nodded. “I worry about its spread on television and home video. I’ve concerned myself for some time with media and how it shapes the human brain. We have no media theory for pornography yet, no deep exploration on how it impacts the plasticity of the brain. Books, for example, require effort. Reading, even the word itself, 'reading’, has multiple meanings and the brain must decide instantly which meaning to use. Therefore, the very act of reading, of consuming textual media is shaping the mind of those who consume it. Those who listen to radio as their primary media will have their brains shaped more passively than readers and those who consume nothing but television will question their reality least of all… but pornography takes us to a new media of the flesh. I believe it could be an addictive substitute for human relationships and we have no understanding where that could lead.”
----- X -----
Brian connected the Veraceo-Two signal generator to the patch bay of the editing booth. “Have you seen anything with Veraceo?” he asked Deborah.
“No,” she shook her head. “But I was fascinated when they went through all of the non-disclosure agreements. For a while I was sure I was going to work as a secret agent or something, the security and scrutiny was intense. It's a lot of secrecy to make a dirty movie.”
“It’s not the movie that’s a secret, it’s this.” He pointed to a box the size of a regular VCR. Lights blinked on the front, toggle switches allowed it to be configured, a rotary dial set the signal strength and an output to an oscilloscope kept it calibrated.
Brian took the chair beside Deborah and looked at the monitors. Everybody else was down on the studio floor, but here Brian and Deborah sat ahead of the two camera images as they filmed the set.
“When you were introduced, Susan said you were an expert on sadomasochism… Are you a… a dominatrix or something?”
Deborah laughed and shook her head, swishing her hair. “No. Nothing so. It’s an