Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion Read Online Free PDF Page B

Toronto outskirts. Grey and forgettable buildings away from
the public eye. Brian’s new home for technology was between a
manufacturer of industrial brushes and a mechanic who specialised
in refurbishing forklift trucks. The only outward sign of their new
home was a small brass plate by the entrance that read ‘Special
Optical Laboratories’.
    Inside the building
Brian found a man with dark curly hair and thick glasses, sitting
on a packing crate and reading a book called A Boy and his Dog.
“Are you Brian Spectrometer?” he asked.
    “I am.”
    The man held out his
hand to shake. “I’m Peter Fluorite, I’ve been with Consec for
almost ten years but I started out in Montreal working for CBFT
before moving to CBC. I’m your go-to man for television needs. I’ve
been briefed on Veraceo and was told you’re building a testing
facility.”
    Brian walked around the
space, his footsteps echoing. The main floor of the building was at
least sixty feet square and twelve feet tall, then at the side of
the main floor were various rooms ready to be converted into office
space or workshops. “They’ve certainly given me enough space,”
Brian mused.
    “I was told you’re new
to Consec,” Fluorite added. “That this is your first job as a
partner.”
    Brian nodded. “It
is.”
    Fluorite smiled at him.
“Just tell me what you need, then watch how fast Consec makes it
happen.”
    “I need… what I need…”
Brian held his chin as he paced the floor. “I need all the
equipment from my old laboratory duplicating here, but upgraded to
the best available. We’re going to create a room for test subjects
to watch video and we’re going to process thousands of people. We
need test bays arranged as booths where they can sit in front of a
TV with headphones on. Let’s say fifty people at a time.”
    “Fifty chairs, fifty
cubicles… What sort of televisions?” Fluorite asked. "Colour or
black and white, large or small, domestic use or under-scan
monitors?”
    “Let’s start with what
people have in their homes. Domestic colour, average size, let’s
say nineteen or twenty inch. They need building into an arrangement
so that I can play a tape and all fifty get the signal, that’s a
good place to start; and I’m going to need a thousand test subjects
of all ages and social classes.”
    Fluorite was writing in
a notepad. “No problemo, Pátron. Leave it with me.”
     
    ----- X -----
     
    Within a week the first
test subjects were in place. The Veraceo signal generator was
patched into the network of televisions and Peter Fluorite began
building a catalogue of test material from old commercials to
political ads and news reports. Until they knew how better to
assess the impact they simply asked the same question of whether
what they were watching was true or false. With Veraceo everything
was true. Soap powder really did make your whites brighter than
ever, kids never got hungry between meals with fish fingers and
some razor blades truly did give the greatest shave.
    “I’ve got something
really special to try,” Fluorite said. “I’ve got a cassette of the
most racist fucker you’ll ever see. Let’s see if people agree with
this.”
    Fifty test subjects
came into the room to watch Peter Fluorite’s racist video.
    Half of the test
subjects watched it with Veraceo.
    The film started. A
political advert for a potential US Senator with slicked back hair
and a bowtie. “I am J.B. Stoner,” the man began. “I am the only
candidate for U.S. Senator who is for the white people. I am the
only candidate who is against integration. All of the other
candidates are race mixers to one degree or another.” On the test
floor, the subjects sat in rows wearing headphones, glued to the
screen, but it was easy to see that some had already screwed up
their faces at the campaign ad. “I say we must repeal Gambrell's
civil rights law,” Stoner continued. “Gambrell's law takes jobs
from us whites and gives those jobs to the