"Emergency Services Telephone Number" (1977-1979)

In 1977, Scarfolk Council was disconcerted to learn that poor citizens and immigrants had figured out how to call the emergency services.

The council quickly launched a new number, which it claimed would better handle the increasing volume of emergency calls, and after three years the government proudly announced a significant decrease in emergency calls overall.

However, the telephone number (when it was finally identified) was traced to an answering machine in an industrial estate portacabin, which was completely deserted.

When questioned about the unattended service, a council spokesman stated that the intention was to "empower average and below-average people by enabling them to find their own solutions to problems which are probably the result of their own negligent actions in the first place."

Fully-working emergency services, which were of course funded by the taxpayer and the sale of undesirables to mediocre countries, were still available, but only to a select group of invited people, many of whom were banking and corporate magnates, as well as politicians, their friends, families and pets.

Emergencies most often reported included: strain brought on by stirring Martinis and not being able to reach the television from the bed to change channels. Additionally, the fire service was frequently called upon by beneficiaries to hose down citizens picketing their country estates.

Scarfolk Children's Books (1970s)

This year it's 100 years since Ladybird books were first published. Generations of children turned to these pocket-sized hardbacks for their favourite fairy tales, but not only: They read sanitised, biased accounts of history's bloodiest chapters, as well as the biographies of popular, cruel despots such as Genghis Khan, Caligula and Queen Elizabeth II. They even learned how to make useless objects from hazardous components and how to destroy imbecilic superstitions with rudimentary science.

Unfortunately, Scarfolk children were not interested in Ladybird books or the subjects that entertained and educated other British children. To meet their needs, the Scarfolk Book company created its own series of small hardback books. A selection of some of the more popular editions is below.

"The Anti-Weeping Campaign" Magazine Advertisement (1977)

This advertisement appeared in children's magazines in the 1970s following studies into child behaviour. Researchers found that children were essentially miniature sociopaths and the only reason they didn't run amok on murderous rampages was because they couldn't reach the knife drawer in the kitchen.

Unable to kill en masse, they instead demanded attention by intentionally causing accidents and feigning injury or distress: knocking over boiling pans, slipping in dog excrement, leaping out of police helicopters.

In addition to being irksome, infant tears were deemed to be nothing short of psychological weapons. Parents were warned to arm themselves against the emotional assaults of their offspring, particularly because, if left unchecked, their child might eventually develop dark supernatural powers.

Indeed, for many years people believed that infant sobs contained potentially lethal occult messages. For example, the often-heard whine "Please help me, I'm trapped under the front wheels of this bus", when played backwards sounds like "The Moomins will come; they will fuck you up."

"Violence On" (1970-1978)

This title screenshot is all that remains of 'Violence On', a children's TV programme that ran from 1970 to 1978. Each episode saw the programme's presenters encouraging children to push classmates out of windows, off high walls or from the saddles of seaside beach donkeys.

Another popular programme called 'Jail Fix It' gave children the opportunity to get their injuries treated in a psychiatric prison hospital by high-risk inmates who had to learn first aid as part of their integration back into society.
Each week, the children's decorated plaster casts (and, occasionally, unsolicited gang tattoos) were displayed in a gallery and a special prize was given to the child that had most amused the judges.

"Bounce of Death" Public Information (1976)

In 1976 Scarfolk council was accused of unnecessarily endangering children's lives. In addition to placing municipal bouncy castles and trampolines in close proximity to pylons and electricity substations, the council also positioned roundabouts, swings and slides mere inches from high cliffs, busy railway tracks and motorways. 

An investigative BBC television documentary series alleged that all the recreational areas had been intentionally placed within walking distance of underfunded orphanages and schools attended by working-class children. But the council was insistent: "The placement of the playgrounds is purely coincidental. As for potential hazards, how a child interacts with recreational community equipment is the responsibility of the parent, guardian, teacher or abductor". It also launched the poster campaign, as seen above.

The matter was raised again three years later when it was revealed that the play areas, when connected by straight lines on a map, resembled an occult symbol that had long been associated with pagan child sacrifice. This time the council responded by dismantling the children's playgrounds. However, it blatantly replaced them with infant recycling centres, a move that was welcomed by those who had opposed the vast numbers of children going to waste during a period when there was a shortage of leather for ceremonial masks.