the workplace that dripped blood
Torture Garden was a British anthology-type horror movie from the late 60's. It was considered scary stuff back then; now, you buy it on DVD (as I did the other day) and find that it's rated 12 and is said to contain 'some moderate horror'. What does this say about society?
The separate stories are linked by Burgess Meredith's carnival showman Dr. Diabolo (aka: the Devil) hypnotising his victims using a pair of scissors (wielded by 'Atropos, Goddess of Destiny' but you don't need to know that). 'Stare into the shears of Fate!', Dr. D intones...it's a situation that has a peculiar resonance for those of us whose jobs are at the mercy of government cuts.
The Blood Centre at Brentwood may be relocating, we have been told. Not to the Bahamas, sadly. 'In the Brentwood area', probably. For 'the majority of staff'. Which is alright, unless you are in the minority of staff - those who, during the relocation, may be accidentally mislaid.
Every day I turn up at the Centre wondering will my pass work, or will I be left forlornly staring up at the windows of empty rooms - 'Oh, didn't they tell you?'
The latest rumour is that it's going to be turned into 'a mental health unit'. So we won't have to leave after all, is the joke doing the rounds. Old people's home, ditto.
Ironically, we are quite busy, but there is still time to get the measure of a fast-changing world through the medium of Jeremy Vine on Radio 2. David Cameron wants to establish a 'no fly' zone over Libya. Seems a bit unrealistic. How are they going to keep out all those flies?, I wonder...
Then controversy rages as John Galliano crosses the line between camp excess and enthusiastic support for genocide with some ill-advised anti-Semitic remarks, but it all seems to have got wildly out of proportion, and I'm tempted to ring in: 'Jeremy, not a day goes by in this office without somebody declaring their undying love for Hitler, and no-one bats an eyelid.' A little bit of common sense, that's what's needed... but of course I am far too busy to do this.
What does the future hold for the Brentwood Blood Centre? Will we be turned into robots? Will a cat eat our heads? Or will the plot of Torture Garden have no bearing at all upon our experience?
The Devil only knows.
The separate stories are linked by Burgess Meredith's carnival showman Dr. Diabolo (aka: the Devil) hypnotising his victims using a pair of scissors (wielded by 'Atropos, Goddess of Destiny' but you don't need to know that). 'Stare into the shears of Fate!', Dr. D intones...it's a situation that has a peculiar resonance for those of us whose jobs are at the mercy of government cuts.
The Blood Centre at Brentwood may be relocating, we have been told. Not to the Bahamas, sadly. 'In the Brentwood area', probably. For 'the majority of staff'. Which is alright, unless you are in the minority of staff - those who, during the relocation, may be accidentally mislaid.
Every day I turn up at the Centre wondering will my pass work, or will I be left forlornly staring up at the windows of empty rooms - 'Oh, didn't they tell you?'
The latest rumour is that it's going to be turned into 'a mental health unit'. So we won't have to leave after all, is the joke doing the rounds. Old people's home, ditto.
Ironically, we are quite busy, but there is still time to get the measure of a fast-changing world through the medium of Jeremy Vine on Radio 2. David Cameron wants to establish a 'no fly' zone over Libya. Seems a bit unrealistic. How are they going to keep out all those flies?, I wonder...
Then controversy rages as John Galliano crosses the line between camp excess and enthusiastic support for genocide with some ill-advised anti-Semitic remarks, but it all seems to have got wildly out of proportion, and I'm tempted to ring in: 'Jeremy, not a day goes by in this office without somebody declaring their undying love for Hitler, and no-one bats an eyelid.' A little bit of common sense, that's what's needed... but of course I am far too busy to do this.
What does the future hold for the Brentwood Blood Centre? Will we be turned into robots? Will a cat eat our heads? Or will the plot of Torture Garden have no bearing at all upon our experience?
The Devil only knows.
posted by martin at 11:20 AM
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