Saturday, 11 December 2021

"Plan C" (1979)

This internal council document was only recently unearthed in our archives. It refers to a secret governmental emergency plan to "purify" the town following some kind of "infestation or plague," the details of which have now been lost. 

Although we can now no longer be entirely sure what Plan C consisted of, the image of a nuclear mushroom cloud offers us a clear indication of the council's intention. Our archivists have postulated that the council might have thought it simpler and more cost effective to remove all living things than to target specific vermin and/or undesirable microscopic pathogens. 

What also seems clear is that an unidentified but enthusiastic council employee took it upon themselves to extend Plan C to almost every eventuality, in effect making the nuclear Plan C simply the only plan.

The notion that the council planned to employ a nuclear option is further supported by a minor story in a local newspaper from the time. In October 1979, seven-year-old schoolboy Nigel Johnson, mixed up his family's contribution to his school's annual harvest festival. Instead of the intended box containing four cans of oxtail soup and spaghetti hoops in tomato sauce, he took a quarter tonne of enriched uranium and other weapons-grade nuclear materials.

The boy's father, a local councillor, when questioned how his son could have found such materials at home, claimed ignorance. "Boys are always picking up things like this in the playground," he said and added "it's the fault of liberal teachers and communist dinner ladies and I firmly believe they should be among the first to be cleansed."

Sunday, 18 July 2021

Government Self-Support Scheme Posters (1971-)

The government's self-support scheme launched in 1971. It's not known when the scheme finished because nobody could ever reach the government by telephone. Letters were returned with 'Not known at this address' written across them. Even when people turned up in London to complain in person, they discovered that many government buildings were just facades of the kind one might find on a film set. The Houses of Commons and Lords were in partial ruin, seemingly vacated years before, and had become home to goats, chickens and other livestock. This fact had only gone undetected for so long because the bleating and clucking of the animals coming from within the chambers was indistinguishable from those of their political predecessors.