Read Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion Online

Authors: Lee McGeorge

Tags: #dystopia, #illuminati, #television, #new world order, #society, #nwo, #cold war

Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion

BOOK: Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion
4.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Table of
Contents

 

Copyright and
Dedications

Chapter
One

Chapter
Two

Chapter
Three

Chapter
Four

Chapter
Five

Epilogue

Bibliography

First published in Great Britain by Speartip

The text and story
contained within is

Copyright © 2016, Lee
McGeorge

 

STRICTLY NOT FOR
SALE

 

This release is not for
profit, fan-fiction.

Copyright of the source
material exists with

the respective
rights-holders.

 

 

http://www.lee-mcgeorge.co.uk

 

Cover Artwork: Miguel
E. Santillan

http://santillanstudio.deviantart.com

 

SPEARTIP PUBLISHING

ISBN: 9780995516304

For Julian

Thank you for
everything

 

Special Thanks

Special Agent
Molgaard

Special Agent
Hancock

Special Agent
Dimitrov

Special Agent
Santillan

Special Agent
Granville

Lady Islington

Based on David
Cronenberg’s film, Videodrome

Inspired by the ideas
of Marshall McLuhan

Videodrome: Days of
O’Blivion

 

by

Lee McGeorge

----- Chapter One -----

 

Toronto. October,
1980

 

“This experiment is
quite simple and it’s your opportunity to win one thousand
dollars.” Professor Brian Olivier placed a stack of banknotes on
the table, something that made the student’s eyes light up. “To win
this money, I’m going to show you a video recording. It’s only five
minutes. At the end I’ll ask whether the story in the film is true
or false.”

“And you’ll give me a
thousand bucks, just for that?”

“Well, there is a
catch. The video is a documentary about an art gallery; and it’s
completely fake. All the players are actors. The gallery isn’t
real. In fact, nothing is real. It’s a fiction. To win the money, I
want you to watch the video, then I will ask you if what you have
seen is true or false. If you answer that the video is false, you
win a thousand dollars; but if you tell me it’s true I’ll pay you
ten dollars for your time.”

“But it’s fake, right?
You already told me it’s fake.”

“It is fake. So hold
that thought in your head for the next five minutes.”

Brian leaned against
the doorway and clicked off the overhead lights to leave the young
man in softer illumination. A video camera was pointed at his face.
“In five minutes, tell me that the video is fake and you get a
thousand dollars.”

“Okay… I’ll do
that.”

Brian went next door to
a lab equipped with various video recording devices in racks. The
room hummed with servos, wires came in and out of patch bays,
cassettes of all formats, U-matic, Beta, VHS and even C-Type and
Ampex reel-to-reel were arranged haphazardly on shelves whilst the
room was lit by monitors displaying test patterns and colour
bars.

Amongst the clutter of
video machinery sat Barry Conway. He was well groomed in a fine
grey suit whereas Brian wore on old jacket with leather elbow
patches. Barry looked like a businessman whereas Brian looked like
a dishevelled professor. Brian also looked at least twenty years
older due to his bald head and bushy moustache, but they were the
same age.

“Do you offer them all
a thousand dollars?” Barry asked. “Or did you up the ante for my
benefit?”

Brian gave a smile then
joined him by the video feed filming the student. He clicked play
on one of the video decks and in the other room the short movie
began to play. The video was of men in black sweaters circling a
sculpture in a white walled gallery. It was a grotesquery, a
kneeling woman holding up her robe so it appeared like angel wings,
but in her lap an egg-like sack was connected to her stomach. The
art critics were discussing how the piece related to motherhood and
how the earliest religions worshiped fertility.

The film ended.

Brian went back to the
test subject. Barry watched on the monitor. "Come on kid,” Barry
whispered. “Take the old man’s money. Make him pay.”

Brian sat down with the
boy. “What can you tell me about the film you just saw?” he
asked.

Barry leaned in closer
to the screen. "Come on, tell him it’s fake.”

But he didn’t. The
student started talking about the content of the piece. He talked
about the worship of fertility and how it was captured in the
sculpture.

Brian let him talk for
a moment then asked the essential question. “Would you say the film
you watched was true, or was it false?”

“It was true,” the
student said. “Why would I think it was false?”

 

----- X -----

 

Barry was grinning from
ear to ear. “It’s one of the most amazing things I’ve seen. A
television signal that makes people truly believe what they’re
seeing? It’s incredible.”

“You put me on to it,”
Brian said. “At its heart is some of your zero-light work.”

They were in The King
Edward Hotel, their favourite haunt since they signed their first
big deal at a meeting there some years before. Barry was onto his
third glass of red wine and his enthusiasm was growing with each
drink. “This is a game changer,” he was saying. “The potential for
advertisers is off the scale. Think of how a business would see
this. Let’s say you’re a company selling running shoes. You make a
TV commercial and embed that signal, then people with no legs are
going to buy your shoes. The potential is limitless. This isn’t
worth millions, Brian, it’s worth billions. Jesus, advertisers will
kill for this kind of technology. Do you have a name for it?”

Brian sipped his
whisky. “Veraceo… An amalgamation of Veracity and Video.”

“Truthful video,” Barry
said. “Veraceo… I’m glad I own some of your company.”

“I’m thinking that you
should own a little more. To help bring it to market, I mean. I
could do with your help and I’m thinking we share swap.”

“What have you got in
mind?”

“You know my
weaknesses.” Brian said. “I don’t have your showmanship or
negotiation skills, in fact, I don’t even know what the next move
is. The product isn’t ready for market, but when it is I wouldn’t
know how to proceed and I’m overwhelmed even thinking about it.
What I’m hoping is if you can handle the business side, I can stay
in the lab and prepare the technology for release.”

“What do you need to
get it ready?”

“Lots of things. I
haven’t tried it under broadcast conditions. Just because it works
in the lab doesn’t mean it works when transmitted. I haven’t tested
it on many subjects yet so I don’t know how it works across age or
social spectrum. It may work on kids but not seniors, it might work
on the stupid but not the educated, so this needs to be understood
before we can pitch it to advertisers.”

“What’s a ballpark
figure for R&D? Give me a highball number. To do all the
testing you want, with the number of test subjects you want. How
much cash do you need?”

Brian looked away and
smoothed his moustache. He fidgeted. “I would want at least a
thousand test subjects. A custom facility. I need high-end
broadcast hardware, but most of all I need time. I think that’s the
key thing, time to work on it and see where it could go. To
discover all of its potential and limitations. So cash wise, I
would guess somewhere around one to one point five million.”

“I’ll get it.” Barry
said like a snap. “I’ll set up a V.C. presentation and I’ll get us
one point five million. What was the share swap you had in
mind?”

“I was thinking five
percent of Spectacular Optical for five percent of Veraceo.”

“Deal.” Barry said it
in a heartbeat.

“It’s still early days,
Barry. It looks good now, but it might not live up to
expectation.”

“If it fails you will
have another five percent of twelve stores and a lens grinding
plant.” Barry smiled and held his glass out. “Five percent of
Spectacular Optical for five percent of Veraceo and its unknown
potential… It’s a deal, Brian. I’ll take a chance on you making me
a billionaire.”

They clinked
glasses.

Between good friends,
it was as good as any contract.

 

----- X -----

 

Barry had booked a
lecture hall for the presentation. Reps from the venture capital
companies milled around in the lobby, sipping coffee before being
moved into the auditorium. Two hundred, red, cinema-style seats for
about forty delegates. They spaced themselves around the room. On
the stage was nothing but a table holding a TV screen facing away
from the audience.

Barry took to the stage
and thanked the delegates for coming. “We would like to induce
everybody in this room with Veraceo, one at a time.” He walked the
stage with a smile. “The Veraceo experience is entirely painless.
At this point I’d like to call for volunteers... anyone... it
doesn’t matter.”

Two men in dark suits
whispered to one another and one of them raised a hand. Barry
beckoned him to the stage. “Hi, I’m Barry Conway,” he said with a
handshake. “And you are?”

“Irwin, Mark Irwin, I’m
representing Bartok Science Industries.”

Barry positioned the
man ahead of the monitor. “Just relax and enjoy the experience.”
Then to the audience he said, “I’m going to show Mark a short film.
It’s about an art gallery. Now, nothing in this film is true. It’s
all a fiction.”

In the wings, Brian
watched as Barry went through the same motions he’d demonstrated
with the original test subject; the difference was when Barry did
it, he delivered a performance and the audience smiled, enjoying
the showmanship. Barry turned to the wings and gave Brian the
signal to begin playback of the gallery tape.

The film showed. The
art critics in their black sweaters discussed the fertility
statue.

“Now can you tell me,”
Barry asked as the film ended. “Was that film true or false?”

“It was true,” he
said.

“Are you sure it was
true?”

“Yes. Absolutely.”

“Thank you.” Barry
gestured for the man to leave the stage whilst simultaneously
raising his hand to the audience to signal their moment for
applause. Their clapping was hearty and genuine. “Now, who would
like to go next?”

A blonde woman raised
her hand and was called to the stage as Mark Irwin walked back to
his seat. His colleague, Ron Sanders, whispered his question, “Did
you really think it was true?”

“Yeah, why?”

“Because at the
beginning he told you it was fake and you agreed to tell him it was
fake.”

Irwin puzzled over that
for a few seconds. “Jesus. Yes, I remember saying that. I remember
the conversation… What did I tell him?”

“You told him it was
true.”

Down on the stage Barry
began going through the same pitch with the blonde woman. This time
his spiel was modified to include that, as she had seen it once
already, she should have no problem telling him the film was
fake.

Irwin and Sanders
watched as the woman viewed the documentary then told Barry in all
earnestness that the programme was factual. Again the room lifted
with applause. Sanders nudged Irwin and pointed to the door. “Do
you not want to try it yourself, first?” Irwin asked.

“No, we need to get
this locked.”

Sanders and Irwin cut
across the empty lobby to a payphone. “Sir, this is Ron Sanders.
We’re watching the Veraceo demonstration. I think you should inform
Consec Leader that this is real. It can really do what they say it
can do.”

Irwin was scratching
his head, still musing over how he could have been so fooled by the
video. He watched Sanders talk on the phone whilst feeling a
pleasant kindness of spirit come to his mood. He felt happy.
Somehow generous. If he could find a vagrant he would give them
money. Perhaps he should go looking for one.

 

----- X -----

 

“Mister Conway,”
Sanders called as the auditorium cleared. Irwin followed behind,
still grinning broadly. “That was quite a demonstration. I’m Ron
Sanders, from Bartok Science Industries.”

“Oh, yes. You didn’t
come on to the stage. I saw you leaving and thought you must not
like what we’re working on.”

“Quite the contrary, I
left to call Home Base and pass on the news. Have you signed on
with any VC's yet?”

“Not yet,” Barry said.
“But there is interest. It won’t take long.”

Sanders nodded. “That’s
what I figured and that’s why I called Home Base. Our founder and
chairman, Oleksander Bartok is on his way here right now to speak
with you and I was hoping you would stay on a little longer to meet
with him.”

BOOK: Videodrome: Days of O'Blivion
4.53Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

Other books

Taking Back Sunday by Cristy Rey
Stella by Siegfried Lenz
The Oldest Sin by Ellen Hart
Love Redesigned by Iles, Jo
Tough Enough by M. Leighton
A New Beginning by A. D. Trosper
A Window into Time (Novella) by Peter F. Hamilton
The Boat House by Pamela Oldfield