Thursday, 26 March 2015

"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.

Thursday, 19 March 2015

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.






Thursday, 12 March 2015

"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."

Monday, 9 March 2015

"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.

Thursday, 5 March 2015

"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.

Wednesday, 25 February 2015

Pedestrian 'Bastard Lanes' (1970s)

'Bastard Lanes', as they came to be known, were devised for unwed mothers and their unclean offspring. The narrow pedestrian footpaths were identifiable by their double black lines and electrified fences which ran in the gutters of most town streets.

In these two posters, nearly a decade apart, we can see how social policy evolved in Scarfolk. In 1970, the local church authority proposed the lanes as part of its 'campaign for moral decency', but the council banned the campaign, claiming that the church's principles were 'in contravention not only of human rights, but also the rights of foreigners'.



However, it became apparent that the council had only condemned the church as part of a strategy to coax citizens away from traditional religion and toward the state-funded, shadowy cult of Officism (see Discovering Scarfolk).
As the later poster from 1979 shows, despite the council's declared opposition to the church's ethics, the unwed mother lanes were still very much in operation and the alleged injustices of the original religious campaign had simply been rerendered in secular terms.



By the late-1970s, 'Bastard Lanes' had become sites of intense paranormal activity. They were littered with ectoplasm and all over town malevolent pagan spirits wreaked havoc as they brazenly flouted the Green Cross Code.

Thursday, 19 February 2015

"Management Psychology" (Klofracs Books, 1972)



In the 1970s, big business concerned itself exclusively with getting results, irrespective of negative effects on employees. Some Scarfolk companies were so successful that the state's secret service turned to them for advice on how to get more productive results when interrogating dangerous terrorists.

In 1972, under the guidance of management staff from a Scarfolk pickle factory, imprisoned terrorists saw their holidays reduced to 25 days per annum, lunch breaks reduced to 30 minutes, and per diem expenses decreased from 5 pounds to 3 pounds. They had to participate in regular trust and team-building exercises, such as group games, sing-a-longs, waterboarding, sensory deprivation and, as the book indicates, mock execution - all the techniques that had made British business profitable, at home and abroad.

But when interrogations were further reduced to 3 days per week and some detainees were even made redundant, many terrorists said enough was enough and went out on strike. They refused to engage in any interrogations until a full 5-day week, as well as tea breaks and afternoon naps were reinstated.

Saturday, 14 February 2015

"Romantic Bile Awareness" (1979)


The romantic bile awareness campaign was launched on Valentine's Day, 1979. It came about following medical research into "that pernicious malady: love", which scientists believed was responsible for the secretion of a mysterious black bile produced in the hearts of the afflicted.

The bile perplexed experts, some of who claimed it to be sentient, though all agreed that it caused irreparable damage to internal organs including the lungs, kidneys and luncheon balls. But it was the brain that was the most susceptible to the bile which could trick the sufferer into demeaning acts such as befriending foreigners and other undesirables.

While the state did turn a blind eye to restrained fondness between its citizens, it could not permit love, requited or otherwise, to go unchecked. As the poster states, all relationships required authorisation from local councils and sexual proficiency was evaluated by a social worker.

In addition to relationship management, Scarfolk council also drew up a definitive list of human traits that it deemed attractive, thus potentially dangerous. Anyone who fulfilled more than three attributes was forced to attend a plastic surgery course during which they were taught self-surgery techniques and given a sterilised Swiss army penknife to ensure compliance with the government's guidelines on physical attraction.

Happy Valentine's Day from everyone at Scarfolk Council

Thursday, 5 February 2015

The SCS Living-Eye Surveillance Computer (mid-1970s)

Unfortunately, there's only scant reference to SCS (Scarfolk Clinical Security) in our archives. All we have is a screenshot from one of their television commercials and a page from a pamphlet given out by family doctors in the mid-1970s.




In 1973, SCS caught the government's interest when it claimed that it could combine and reduce the state's annual budgets allocated to the war on crime, censorship, organ donation and breakfast catering.

As you'll read below, the company proposed that reluctant citizens physically participate in the state surveillance process. Though the scheme was voluntary when it began, it quickly became mandatory.


Click to enlarge


However, in 1975 the scheme suddenly collapsed and SCS went into liquidation. The company had already collected the initial 17,001 eyes that were required to run its living-eye surveillance computer, when it realized that it had neglected to invent an eye-to-computer adapter cable.

The now redundant eyes were returned to their donors with a complimentary display stand (actually, an egg cup with 'thank you' painted on it) and a letter that read: "Be proud that you can look yourself in the eye in the knowledge that your eye was once the nation's eyes and ears".


Thursday, 29 January 2015

"Where's your child?" Public Information (1974)


Scarfolk's Junior Detonation Task Force was noted for its over-enthusiasm in regard to unattended children. It was known to test a parent's attention by luring them away from their child, beyond the legal 4 metre supervision zone, with the offer of weekend caravanning holidays, expensive kitchenware and ice-creams.

The sound of controlled explosions became commonplace in airports, bus stations, libraries, supermarkets and public playgrounds.

However, parents could not be held responsible when their children were at school or any other of the town's many infant indoctrination covens. Scarfolk education authority, keen to avoid staff culpability, redefined concepts of supervision and attendance by making the child responsible for its own proximity to its teacher.

For example, the education board decreed that a member of staff could not be held accountable if a child daydreamed. Apart from the fact that daydreaming was technically deemed to be truancy, it took a child well beyond the supervision zone, psychologically speaking, and staff could not be expected to go into a trance every time a child needed to be retrieved from its reverie. This form of mental agility was particularly taxing for gym teachers. Yet children found it hard not to daydream, largely due to the plethora of medication they were expected to imbibe daily.

Children all over Scarfolk eventually became disgruntled about the frequent detonations which continually disrupted classes, and they trained a group of pre-school mediums to wander the psychic plane alerting absent-minded children before they were spotted by the Junior Detonation Task Force.

Thursday, 22 January 2015

"Fraction Action" Charity Newspaper Ad (1972)



Many charities in 1970s Scarfolk were actually illegal fronts for corporate and political organisations.

Rising costs meant that even the once reliable trading of unsatisfactory citizens was not enough to feed expanding budgets. Additional revenue sources had to be found.

The charity 'Fraction Action' (see newspaper ad above) was the brainchild of Sir John Elegy who was not only a member of Scarfolk council but also had shares in Scarfolk Laboratories, a company owned by the Cavalier Pharmaceutical company (see 'Discovering Scarfolk' for more details).

To be fair, 'Fraction Action' did redirect some of the donations it received: 1.2p out of every £100,000 was put in a jar in the Scarfolk Labs canteen as a contribution to the dinner ladies' Christmas lunch. The remainder of the donations was consumed by 'administration' (i.e., administering recreational medication), 'running costs' (i.e., running to ground people who had been farm-bred specifically for hunting) and 'over heads' (i.e., literally expensive flights abroad).

The 'Fraction Action' campaign ads also efficiently foreshadowed and justified the council's later random purging of citizens, which was necessary if Scarfolk Labs was to continue its crucial genetic experiments into human/furniture hybridisation, a noted example of which was the Hair Chair.

Tuesday, 13 January 2015

"Freedom of Speech" Public Information (1975)



While freedom of speech should, without exception, always be upheld and fought for, it was complicated in 1970s Scarfolk.

Take, for example, the case of the multinational New State Corporation, which converted decommissioned army personnel with psychological problems into soft toys that taught feral and left-wing children about Jesus. When two employees, Ed Manning and Julien Snowden exercised their freedom of speech to expose the company's illegal use of black magick (and candy floss) in the conversion process they soon found themselves in prison awaiting trial.

The problem was that there were so many (and sometimes contradictory) exceptions to freedom of speech that it was only practically possible to exercise it if you were a) very wealthy or b) the government had a vested political interest in what you were saying and were willing to endorse you, or c) you said what you had to say, then hid where no one could find you.

In addition to the help and guidelines offered in the 1975 leaflet above, the council also strongly recommended exercising one's freedom of speech in one's own head and not saying it out loud. A council spokesman said:
 "Everyone verbally exercising their freedom of speech at the same time not only contravenes a noise pollution bylaw, but also makes it difficult for our many council stenographers who are trying to illicitly record what everyone is saying".

Wednesday, 7 January 2015

"Spoil Your Kids Rotten" Public Information (1979)

In July 1973, accused murderer Karen Skrayp walked free when the forensic evidence against her was found to be inconclusive. Skrayp had been arrested when her alleged victim's hairs were found stuck to her sharpened dentures. Though the hairs clearly belonged to the victim, forensic tests demonstrated that they shared most of their genetic make-up with polyethylene bottles used for carbonated drinks such as 7-UP, E-Cola and Fizzy Gravy. A murder conviction could not be brought against Skrayp who got off with a fine for the lesser crime of unlawful aggression toward a brand trademark.

The case highlighted a serious environmental problem. Due to the abundance of food preservatives and plastics entering the food chain, people were slowly turning into potentially indestructible 'living dolls'. Indeed, several exhumations showed that cadavers were not decomposing. Human decay rates were slowing to that of discarded bubble wrap or a Wombles lunch box.

Scarfolk Council was the first to suggest that church graveyards and crematoria be converted into mass human recycling centres. It proposed that recently deceased relatives be placed into pork-coloured dustbins to be collected bi-monthly for recycling. Human remains would be rendered into drinking straws, lifelike plastic models of children for barren couples, and religious figurines for the intellectually barren. One man, Jack Powers, became so famous for the particularly high plastic content in his body that when he died he was made into his own series of eponymous action figures.

A council booklet published in 1979 (see below) proposed that parents treat their children as early as possible so that by the time they are grown up they are already partially putrefied.


Monday, 22 December 2014

Council Christmas Boy

Over the Christmas period, families in 1970s Scarfolk were plunged into a state of fear. They desperately tried to appear happy - or at least meet the minimum contentment levels - in case a council Christmas Boy turned up at their door to inspect them. Though many families were visited, seemingly concurrently, the council claimed there was ever only one boy. Nobody knew his real name.

Family members would often take turns standing in the front windows of their homes where they mimed laughter in the desperate hope that the Christmas Boy would pass them by. He rarely did. Once inside a home, he would sniff or lick the occupants for signs of stress or unhappiness.The Christmas Boy rarely found what he would deem a legally cheerful family and harsh punishments, which varied, were often meted out on the spot.

Families did not usually realise that they had been visited by the Christmas Boy until an hour or two after he had left because his flute was designed to have soporific effects. When these effects wore off, families might find that one or more members had been removed or that broad grins had been fixed on their faces following minor surgery.



A lawfully merry Christmas from Scarfolk Council. Be content...

Thursday, 11 December 2014

"Pious Peril" public information (1972)

When the stationery-worshipping cult of Officism became the dominant faith in 1970s Scarfolk (see Discovering Scarfolk for more details) all other religions were forced underground.

Consequently, outcast religious zealots would loiter outside schools and target vulnerable children. The devout deviants would try to entice youngsters into their cars with colourful, desirable books about eschatological and soteriological theology. Sometimes they would expose their tabernacles.

However, children weren't such easy prey. Officist schools taught their pupils rudimentary anti-religion logic, such as the well-known observation by Epicurus:

“Is God willing to prevent evil, but not able? 
Then he may have accidentally locked himself in the garage.
Is he able, but not willing? 

Then he may still be upset with you for eating that ham salad sandwich last April. 
Is he both able and willing? 

Then he may just be delayed for some reason, e.g., stuck in traffic.
Is he neither able nor willing? 

Then he may have lost his job due to an industrial accident, such as getting his beard caught in a factory machine. Or he might be striking over having to work 6 days a week without benefits.

Some children did inadvisedly go with these pious perverts, but only because they wanted to practice what they had learned in their kidney removal classes.