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and statistics.
    The programme went to
commercial break. Nylon stockings.
    “That’s it,” Fluorite
said. “I feel it. I see some pretty girl stroking her own legs and
suddenly I’ll forgive McNamara all of his sins. I don’t care how
many dead kids there are in Vietnam.”
    “I feel it too,” Brian
added. “But why the hell should we be feeling this?” He wound the
tape back and watched the commercial again feeling the eroticism.
He watched it three times sensing the impact lessen with each
viewing. He stopped the tape and paced the floor. Excited by the
discovery. “I think it could be sex and violence in combination,”
he said. “The human brain is attuned to those things.”
    “Well, that’s where
we’ll test next,” Fluorite said. “We can test it with sex, with
violence and with sex and violence in combination.”
     
    ----- X -----
     
    By the time Brian made
it home that evening he could sense something strange happening to
him. As he looked at his hands on the steering wheel he sensed
movement under the skin. When car headlights turned towards him the
beams arrived at his eyes by some twisting or spiralling motion.
His vision felt sharper, his flesh felt attuned to the
surroundings, his hearing fidelity improved. Good God, something
was happening. Something good. Something pleasant and
enjoyable.
    He entered the home and
began shedding clothes. He wanted to shower to feel the pressure of
the water droplets hitting his skin. He kicked away his shoes and
stepped out of his trousers then spent a moment alone and nude in
his apartment. His arms stretched wide, his head filled with
colours. It felt as though the texture of the carpet was moving
and… Good God… was he hallucinating? It wasn’t a truly discernible
hallucination, rather he felt on the precipice of an experience
that had yet to manifest itself. Is this how Albert Hofmann had
felt on his infamous bicycle ride when he discovered LSD?
    He took to the
telephone. “Peter, it’s Brian. How are you feeling right now?”
    “Euphoric,” Fluorite
said back. “What the hell did you put in that TV signal? I feel
like I can touch God.”
     
    ----- X -----
     
    George, the newly
recruited videotape editor put the box of cassettes on the table.
“Okay, this is what you asked for. I’ve numbered them one to ten.
V-Test One is mostly violence with a little bit of sex. I spliced
in a bikini contest with some hardcore death clips.” He picked up
the end cassette. “Up here at V-Test Ten, we’ve got hardcore porn
mixed with cheesy TV violence. Some aggressive full-penetration
cock and pussy action intercut with Charles Bronson out for
revenge.”
    Fluorite ran his finger
along them and stopped at V-Test Five. “What do you have
midrange?”
    “In the middle I used
war reporting for the violence. Soldiers getting field dressings, a
bit of blood but not too ghastly. I cut this together with some
Baby Blues taken off the local networks. Sleazy stuff, but… you
know… what they can get away with. Tits covered in baby oil, that
sort of thing. ”
    “I hate those
networks.” Fluorite said. “They’re rotting society away. What do
you think, Brian? Will TV be our ruin?”
    Brian approached the
table. “I believe Pornography and violence are by-products of
societies in which private identity has been destroyed. A
destruction by sudden environmental change.”
    Fluorite and George
both paused as they took in the meaning. “What environmental
change?” George asked.
    “Television itself has
reshaped the environment. We used to live in a world shaped by
books, then by radio. These environments have been minimised by
television. That is what I mean by destruction of environment; we
have destroyed the environment shaped by books and replaced it with
game shows and whatever else comes through the cathode ray tube.”
Brian took V-Test Five and put it into the video deck. It was as
George described. Topless women in a sauna, a man lifting