Scarfolk is a town in North West England that did not progress beyond 1979. Instead, the entire decade of the 1970s loops ad infinitum. Here in Scarfolk, pagan rituals blend seamlessly with science; hauntology is a compulsory subject at school, and everyone must be in bed by 8pm because they are perpetually running a slight fever. "Visit Scarfolk today. Our number one priority is keeping rabies at bay."
For more information please reread.
Monday, 11 February 2013
Rabies public information poster from 1972
A poster frequently seen around Scarfolk in the early 70s, especially in schools, libraries and hospitals.
Everyone who grew up in the 1970s knew that rabies was an ever-present danger. You'd be sitting at home on a Saturday morning when the phone would ring and the police would tell your parents to take you to a birthday party, usually at the home of a child you did not know and always in the basement. You'd play the "Disappear" game - everyone would sit in a circle and close their eyes, and when you opened them, one or more of the children would be missing and you might hear or see the dreaded pale-green van driving away. You'd be given a glass of a watered-down fruit drink and asked to fill out a questionnaire, then the policeman would drive you home where your parents would look relieved when you walked in and tell you that birthday parties were never to be talked about with anyone, ever.
And that's why my twin sister was just a imaginary friend! Funny that I never saw her again after the party,And they took all her stuff away to the incinerator later that night..
I'm gonna print this out A2 size.
ReplyDeleteEveryone who grew up in the 1970s knew that rabies was an ever-present danger. You'd be sitting at home on a Saturday morning when the phone would ring and the police would tell your parents to take you to a birthday party, usually at the home of a child you did not know and always in the basement. You'd play the "Disappear" game - everyone would sit in a circle and close their eyes, and when you opened them, one or more of the children would be missing and you might hear or see the dreaded pale-green van driving away. You'd be given a glass of a watered-down fruit drink and asked to fill out a questionnaire, then the policeman would drive you home where your parents would look relieved when you walked in and tell you that birthday parties were never to be talked about with anyone, ever.
ReplyDeleteAnd that's why my twin sister was just a imaginary friend! Funny that I never saw her again after the party,And they took all her stuff away to the incinerator later that night..
Delete