The Sound of Silence

The sign outside read 'The People's Voice Conference - We say what you think'.

If the civic hall could articulate a sense of pride, this would not be happening, nevertheless, they were here and they were here for three days.

The People's Voice started off small, as these things do. Just one voice, crying in the wilderness of the modern media landscape.

It was a collection of people who had just had enough. Usually these things were protests or campaigns organised by special interest groups. This time it was just a reaction to everything.

Clarification: It was a reaction to everything that was happening in the movies, TV and music.

Now every generation bemoans the slipping of moral standards in the next and at first it seemed to be just that.

Protests were held about the sexual content of one movie, the violent content of a TV program or the offensive sentiments of the latest number one single.

These weren't your 'Million Man March' type of protests. These were just despairing posts on the blogs of stay-at-home Mums or guests on daytime discussion shows or radio phone-ins.

In general, the media's reaction was a typical response as they countered the concerns of these average folks with hyperbole about restriction of free speech and censoring self-expression.

Most people are quite reasonable and don't want to cause trouble and so they back down, still troubled, but not wanting to branded as some kind of unsophisticated imbecile who is out of touch with the modern world.

This time though one man refused to bow to the bullying tactics. He refused to back down from what he believed was an acceptable social standard.

He didn't accept the peer pressure. He didn't accept the excuses of the media that their content had nothing to do with the decline in society. He knew the power of propaganda.

That man was the leader of The People's Voice.

He was ignored in newspapers, was never invited to TV debates, not acknowledged at all other than to make fun of him in satirical parodies.

Yet his voice grew louder. He spoke in local clubs. He spoke at fairs. He spoke at festivals.

Wherever the people were, there he was.

And people listened.

They didn't just hear, they actually listened.

As they stood there, one-by-one, they felt the truth of what he was saying. They knew that despite what they were told by those in charge of feeding them information via the regular news channels there was a direct influence on the behaviour of individuals as a result of what the culture exposed them to.

He spoke about those most vulnerable were those with no strong role model in their life. Especially those with absent parents.

There was more than a touch of recognition in people's hearts as they realised they had never really had a relationship with their own mother and father that had been anything more than living in the same house.

There was more that a guilty tear shed when a parent saw that they had not taken more than a passing interest in the responsibility of bringing up their child and had been more than happy to avoid tackling difficult issues by letting them learn about life from various exaggerated forms of entertainment.

Although there may be nothing that could be done for a potential 'lost generation' there was something that could be done for the next.

There was a way to halt the lack of respect for authority which was promoted as a form of anti-heroism.

There was a way to bring back a sense of responsibilty which this lost generation had never seen in their elders.

There was a way to bring back a tangible sense of local community which had been lost in the globalisation of communication.

With this message being passed from person to person it spread and took hold. Those who cared, talked about it constantly. At home. In the pub. At the school gates. On Cigarette breaks. At the bus stop.

Those who didn't care just let it all pass them by. They had their own worries. They had their own ambitions. They didn't want to be 'out' of the 'in crowd' and express an opinion that went against their peers.

That's why they didn't see it coming.

All it needed was for the potential to be harnessed, the momentum to be released.

The conference started but never finished.

After the first day people felt powered up and anxious to make something happen. The second day twice as many people turned up. Fire regulations were breached, but if you cared, you had to be there. By the end of the day it reached fever pitch. All in attendance fuelled each other.

What can we do?

When can we do it?

Why wait for tomorrow?

They spilled onto the streets and they didn't waste any time.

No-one could recall whose idea it was. Nor could they tell you later on quite how they managed it.

First they dismantled their own TV Aerials and satellite dishes, but what about their neighbours?

They couldn't just deface someone's house without permission. It would go against the principle of the thing.

The legend goes that through the clarity of thought only a child can provide, one young boy pointed to a hill on which a broadcast tower stood and said 'why don't we just take that down?'.

A whole region suffered a media blackout that night and a confused media didn't quite know how to report it. They wondered who these mad people were.

Eventually though the soundbites were silent as all the People's Voice was heard loud and clear.

That wasn't the end of the story by any means, but the revolution had begun.











Character: Censor Plot: Welcomes Resolution: Aerial



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The Tale of James' Steel - A Random Story

It was time for a review once more. Every few years those on long sentences were brought before a parole board and they were deemed worthy to re-enter the human race.

I came in before James did. I saw him when he first arrived and I don't think I was wrong in saying he deserved his place here more than most.

Although he hadn't actually murdered anyone yet, you could see in his eyes it would only be a matter of time. I guess some wise judge saw the same and decided to put him away before he actually got round to doing it.

20 years hard labour on the hot plains of Texas usually takes the fire out of most bellies, but not before they've spent their fury in some manner.

James had a bigger attitude than a hen hunting foxes and he took it out on everyone. No-one knows what made him so angry. He never told that part of his story. The only thing we knew about was what came next.

We became cellmates and I got to know him. At first it was like treading on eggshells. He didn't want to trust me, but eventually, as is my talent, I was able to get him to accept my presence. After a few scrapes together we got even closer.

I remember one morning in particular, he started a riot in the yard. The screws kept their distance as much as they could. Unfortunately for one he got too close to James and was soon availed of his right to use his arms.

After disabling the unlucky guard he turned his newly aquired rifle skywards to start a gunfight.

Now to me a gunfight in a prison yard is like shooting fish in a barrel. No sane man would ever allow himself to be cornered into a situation like that.

Blow me though if James didn't have a plan. Either he was very observant or he had an accomplice, but he managed to find himself in the one position that was covered from fire from all points. Not only that, but there was an apparent way out for the athletically talented.

After drawing fire to that spot for a while he musta took off through some high placed air vents that led through to an unsecured spot.

Even though he got caught not long after leaving, the warden lost his job for that and James got to spend a lotta time in contemplation on what he did.

Now I have to say that I wasn't just an observer of these events. I had a pretty big hand in some.

For instance, I was the one who picked up the rifle to continue giving cover when I saw what James was up to. I guess taking some of the heat for him got his trust more than any fancy words.

Pretty quickly I became his wingman on the occasions when he was allowed to mix with others. One or two spats involved his protecting me.

Most of these other conflagrations were pretty evenly spread between fellow inmates and and our jailers. He believed fervently that every man was equal no matter where birth and privilege took you.

Eventually, as time went by the fires of his youth dimmed to be replaced by cold, hard steel. He'd seen a lot in his time here. People had come and people had gone. All sortsa people. He'd seen inmates mistreated and screws abuse their power. The cirles of power flowed and rippled through the yard and canteen with every new arrival.

The concept of hard labour even got replaced with the principle of reform.

The old ways had given James a way to rail against the outside world, the new ways now offered him a chance to deal with his own internal conflicts.

The changes were slow at first. He didn't believe that anyone was really there to help and he didn't think that any of the programs would really change anything.

At first I guess that was true.

Somebody, somewhere had decided that teaching us criminals to be better people would reduce crime. James held the view that teaching those with power and money to be better people would reduce crime. Those that actually came into to run the programs had different ideas again. Usually involving Jesus.

Eventually, more practical, thought out courses started to get run and although numbers were low, James would attend every one, dragging me with him.

Somewhere deep inside I guess there was still a fire burning, but this time it was for knowledge. He sat through a number of exams.

It was like being back in school, which wasn't something I cared for. It was something to pass the time though and occasionally the tutor was female meaning I found it hard to keep my mind on the subject anyway.

So I basically followed his lead on everything.

As time went on he started trying to enthuse others to get educated and give themselves a chance. I think this idea of reform had stuck with him. A lot of people owed a lot to him as he rallied inmates to better themselves. I think he wanted them to have the confidence to stand up for themselves when they got out and not feel browbeaten into feeling inferior and therefore not feeling like they were entitled to a better life.

He was an unsung hero.

Few people messed with him at this stage. For those who were too hardened by their years of crime, but had at least acknowledged some regret at their actions, they actually started to back him up in recruitment and eventually all courses were fully subscribed.

Who'da thunk!

When I had a chance to look back at all this I was sure that next time we came up for parole in the new system we would be free men. We had changed so much, but James especially so.

His appointment was before mine. I saw him go in and time went by. I'm sure they would be going through and looking at this achievements over the last few years, the positive changes he brought about, the increased reputation for the prison.

I expected him to be leaving tomorrow on the same bus as me.

Time passed and then he came out. His head was held high, but there was something in his eyes, he wouldn't look at me. Surely he had been given his freedom? If he hadn't what did that mean for me? Was he going free, but I wasn't?

I waited for my moment in a state of agitation. I wrung my hands in anticipation before entering the parole board meeting room.

They asked me a number of questions about my time here and I did my best to show them my reformed character and also paid my dues to James who had led the way. The moment came when they passed judgement.

I was a free man!

I couldn't believe it. After all these years.

I had no idea what I would do on the outside, but I felt equipped for it. Would James be coming with me?

Rushing back to the cell I needed to find out what had happened and what was wrong with him.

Finding him there calm and collected I guess he had come to terms with whatever was warring inside him after he had left the parole meeting.

I asked him how it had gone. I couldn't believe my naivete when he gave me his answer.

Tomorrow came and I reluctantly said goodbye to the place that had been my life for so long, finding it harder to do so knowing James may never get out.

'Don't worry about me.' he had said, 'I'll find my place here and continue what I've been doing. They'll never break my spirit and hopefully I can be influence on the youngsters that come in and make sure they never come back'.

On the bus back to wherever I replayed it all in mind. I had known the man and his character was greater than those with the power to free. Hopefully, one day a man will no longer be oppressed because of the colour of his skin.












Character:reform Plot:selects Resolution:bigoted


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Regrets No.2

Random Story 4

Jaz wandered into the kitchen. He liked it there.

Cooking wasn't a chore for him. He'd grown up around food and had always shown a keen interest in trying out new things.

He shared the apartment with his twin brother Jez.

Jez was due back anytime soon. He worked in the construction industry. They were fortunate to live on the south coast and with all the recent underwater living development he had a good career ahead of him.

In the years since the turn of the millenium new ways had to be found to cope with the threat of global warming and overpopulation. Birth control had helped to turn the tide in western countries, but the war-torn, corrupt countries of the Third World still showed no sign of social responsibility. Thankfully, someone came up with an innovative method of harnessing geo-thermal energy and instead of building hideous monuments that ruined the skyline most new development was now concentrated on building underground habitations. This was of benefit to Africa because they had one of the most stable continental plates in the world and they were rapidly usurping the middle east in terms of energy supply to the western world by running long trenches and insulated pipes to the rest of the world. Hopefully this mean its long term social development would become more stable as well.

Architects rushed to make something of beauty out of this utilitarian concept and thus Riverside living was no longer the fashion. Instead it was Underbay areas that fetched the highest prices on the market. Jez had found a niche here specialising in watertight roof windows that allowed the penthouse Underbay to have views directly under the marina. The water in these new bays was now barraged and filtered to give it an extra clarity in the bright sunshine and afforded spectacular views to those able to pay for them. Jaz thought it was a bit like living in an aquarium.

He looked up as Jez wandered in. Tonight was a special night. Their 21st birthday.

The meal that had taken most of Jaz's time to prepare this evening would soon be ready.

As Jez flopped on their sofa his brother came and sat beside him.

"You look shattered." Jaz said. There was something he wanted to talk to his twin about, but he knew he had to guage his mood first.

"Yeah. We had to vaccum seal the penthouse and then pump the work area dry so we could prepare the roof to accept the first window tomorrow."

"That sounds...involved."

"It's a klick's worth of checklists is what it is. We can build underwater houses, but we can't build a reliable pressurised construction drone to do the dirty work."

"I thought those drones were quite sophisticated now?"

"They are, but down there, the inconsistency of the light through the water plays havoc with their optics. That big collapse in Dubai a couple of months ago was caused by a drones inability to accurately see depth in detail. Sonar can only do so much but the optic recognition program wasn't sophisticated enough."

"Just like the old days huh? 'To err is human, but to really foul things up requires a computer.' "

"You been spending the day reading. Again?"

That was the moment Jaz realised they wouldn't be able to talk about it. Tonight would be their last night.

"My studies are nearly done. I was kind of hoping that I would get to finish them sooner."

Jez shifted uncomfortably at the mention of the future.

"Why have you wasted all this time on something so dumb as anthropology? The world is getting better. We passed the period of environmental short-sightedness years ago. We're in a new dawn of human achievement."

"And what price have we paid for this achievement, Jez." he looked at his brother. They'd had this conversation before. The decision to be made was an impossible one, and it was not in their hands.

"Can I smell something burning?" Jez ended their little chat and turned toward the TV screen that was unfurling against the main wall.

Jaz got up. The food was fine but when Jez didn't want to talk, he just didn't.

He stopped briefly by a mirror on the wall and looked deep into his own eyes, trying to search for some answer to their problem. For some other way. Although they were twins he looked only vaguely similar to his counterpart. There was a definite similarity but they had both developed in different ways. Both physically and emotionally. Jez was by far the more masculine of the two and Jaz, the more sensitive.

The political culture which had brought about the changes that Jez was so enthused over was an unlikely combination. A movement with the voice of the Moral Majority but with Liberal tendencies had finally risen up and drowned out the tired bleatings of socialists, centralists and conservatives. Grass roots frustration with career politicians had finally coalesced into something that worked for everyone. It started in the UK and was now taking hold across most other major democracies in the world especially those with the most disillusioned populace.

With it had come a push for a change in the status quo. With a mandate from the people who put them into power, there were more sweeping changes made than had been since back in the first months of the Blairite government. The old guy even gave his guarded approval to the new movement, which he felt was a natural progression of what he'd tried to do. The UK was now more of a meritocracy than ever before. The class system was disappearing, the welfare program had been all but dismantled by making sure the country had a framework that was sustainable in supporting its citizens and that society had a place for everyone. At 21 is when you became a full citizen.

Jaz drifted over to the cooker and moved things around, finishing off the last few parts of the meal. Their big day was here.

With the cooking done Jaz added a last garnish to Jez's meal and brought it to the dining table.

"It's ready." He announced.

Jez tore himself away from the screen where he was watching a football match from the latest round of the World Champions League. It was a classic grudge match between Liverpool and Barcelona. Barcelona were leading one-nil partway through the first quarter.

"I can't believe Jones got herself sent off in the first five minutes!" Jez complained as he sat at the table facing the screen. "We're down to ten on the pitch now until the second quarter. They're gonna hammer us."

"Eat your food or it'll go cold", Jaz said without looking up.

"Alright, Alright."

Jaz waited until the first quarter of the football match had finished before trying to speak again.

"Jez. I was talking to a man from the Office of Citizenship the other week. He thinks I'm not going to make a full citizen."

Even though there was nothing to distract him, Jez didn't meet his brothers eyes. His voice was downcast as he spoke.

"What did you think would happen, Jaz. You can't just waste your life anymore. This isn't the bad old days."

"Waste my life. That's ironic. I'm not going to be a full citizen Jez."

"Its the way things are. Its how they work now. Everyone has a responsibility for everyone else to a degree, but ultimately you're responsible for your own contribution to society."

"You've bought it hook, line and sinker haven't you."

"Meaning?"

"Meaning, you know you're going to get yours and your not going to jeopardise it. Not even for me."

"Hey! I earnt mine! I didn't look for a free pass." The brothers were simmering and the heat was about to go up further.

"I know but I've got a plan. I need your help."

"No."

"You're central to it. I've learned from you. I want to be like you."

"You what?"

"I haven't been doing my anthropology studies for a few weeks now. I've been taking a crash course in Geo-thermal Residential Construction."

"A job! You want me to get you a job! The assessment is tomorrow morning. Graduation is in the evening. There's no way I can get you a...a...ack!" Jez clutched his chest.

"I knew you'd react like this. I'm sorry." Jaz stared across the table at his brother. "I'm not going to die Jez. I've got things to do. A world to change. You're going to help me do that."

"Wh..Whegghh...What...are you...talking about?"

"I don't like the system, Jez. Life isn't all about work. Life is about freedom. Somewhere along the way our liberal oppressors forgot that. In my studies on anthropology I found out what happens to people with power. They start off with good intentions, but power corrupts them. Liberalism should always be in opposition to the status quo, because the status quo tends toward conservatism and it always needs someone to knock the hard edges off it."

"Jaz..." his brother's voice was a strained cry for help as he reached across the table.

"I'm sorry, but I couldn't let it be me. I'm going to change things. For the better. The system works because they kill those who aren't good citizens. They're like the old Soviet Union now. They got mixed up and crossed eugenics with euthanasia. As they loosened the requirement for euthanasia they tightened their control on the birth rate. This is how they created your brand new dawn. They have a mandate from the people too, a democratic mandate, to kill off the opposition because they cause too much friction to the smoothly oiled cogs of our shiny new society. I'm 21. My life should be beginning not ending. Someone has to stand up. Something has to change. Jaz died today. Of a heart attack. Stress probably. That's all they'll ever know. But now the life that you would have had becomes mine and I'll do more with it than you ever could. And to think they were going to kill me instead of you. It's just institutionalised murder. There's no justification."

Jaz moved around the table, his brother had fallen to the floor. He knelt beside him.

"I loved you my brother, but sometimes change requires sacrifice. Things that are dear to you can stop you progressing. You can appreciate that I'm sure. We started off with the right intentions. We got rid of things such as cars, we reduced our reliance on fossil fuels and we made progress. Well now it's time for the next step."

He put his hand gently on his brothers face.

"Rest in peace, Jez. Rest knowing that if anything I deserved to live longer. And i'll make it work. In your name and for your memory, this world will change so that a tragedy like this never has to occur again."














Character: counterparts Plot: longer Resolution: mandate


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Random Story 2

You don't have to travel very far from the surface of the earth before people start losing their individuality and start looking like a mob.

Patterns of behaviour become self evident and somewhat monotonous. Somewhere around sunrise (a relative concept if ever there was one as the sun never moves) the people begin streaming from their little boxes and take a short walk before they enter an even smaller box and just sit still apart from waggling their hands and feet in attempt to give the small box direction and motion. Some people waggle their fingers at each other too, but that's something else to explore.

Once these people have transferred themselves into towering, coffin like structures another type of human has already started their day, which is often spent rarely leaving the confines of their box apart from short, erratic dashes to set points within a few miles of their box.

The people who have spent the day in the box/tower/coffin then emerge once the majority of the day is over only to rush back to the smaller box, sometimes putting their very existence in danger along the way. Shortly after the orbit of the planet shifts the sun's light to another part of the world they stop all activity, apart from breeding, which this race are particularly good at, until the sun wanders over in their direction again

This carries on for a few of the planets cycles when the pattern changes. Varying due to the current state of the local climate they will either leave their small box and go to a tiny strip of silicate along the edge of a H20 mass crammed in with numerous other humans and then proceed to remove their protective shielding and expose their fragile bodies to the harmful spectrum of radiation that their sun bestows upon them.

However if the local climate is more bountiful and feeds the surrounding land with much needed water the people tend to go to a different type of large box. What happens here is that a large number of them arrive in their travelling boxes and proceed inside the new structure. They enter with nothing and exit it with more than they seem capable of comfortably transporting. Even to the short distance to their travelling box. They seem to have developed a shift pattern whereby everyone in their community takes it in turns to remove the contents of this box. I have observed this behaviour for a very long time and no-one has ever left it without taking something.

Of course there are exceptions to this rule. For instance not everyone goes to the H20 mass, some stand outside their boxes and set off a controlled combustion onto which the flesh of their cohabitants on the planet are placed. Please don't misunderstand me. They are not from the same species.

So what am I to do? How do I rescue these creatures from their pointless existence. As a benevolent, god-like being, I cannot sit by and watch them waste their existence.

Shall I intervene in the lives of them all?

How would that be any better for them? They would not be responsible for their own achievements.

Should I influence just a few of them?

Who would I choose?

There must be a way of selectively rooting out those on the planet who would inspire greater things in them and save them from this miserable existence?

I did leave my spaceship sometime ago and tried to blend in with them. I tried to consult with them about how to make a better world for themselves. I don't think they listened.

I beamed out of there after they tried to kill me. I wonder what happened to those few friends who I visited to let them know I was really okay after all. They probably died the death of the forgotten billions.

Oh well. It's only another 5 Billion years till the sun burns out and they're dead anyway. If they carry on like this they'll never leave the planets surface and survive that. Either way, I get a new assignment then.

I hear there are interesting things happening in galaxy 52-B3. It's got to be more exciting than this.

















Character: everyone Plot: Selectively Resolution: consult


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