The Blurt of Richard Davies

Chaper Twenty One

November the 26th

I'm putting together a PushCred for the NRP. In doing so I realise I've got a Connie earworm gnawing away at, and stuck on a repeating loop in my mind. If it isn't that song then it's an obscure 1970s hymn, "Everybodys' Building". Both must have had a profound impact at a young age on at least one of the Connie leadership to be chosen among their hymns; they're certainly having an effect on me! They crept into my mind as I'm viewing some covert video taken inside a private inner meeting of a local Consensus group. We've been wanting to find what goes on behind those closed doors for a long time, but it's only now we've been able to get someone who has become disillusioned with the movement to secretly 'cord one of their sessions. What I see is indeed stranger than the speculation.

The general public are encouraged to get involved in the organised community bonding singalongs; and just like any other religious service, one or two may be curious enough to want to find out more. Free food and ComCred grants whet their interest further. Once they are vetted, indoctrinated, and considered to be committed enough to the cause; only then they are allowed into the private rallies.

All the rumours we've heard about these gatherings are true, and then some! Imagine if you can a surreal combination of a motivational sales conference, but held in the atmosphere of a Communist Party meeting from the Mao era. Add to it the fervency of a religious cult service blended with an exercise class and self-help therapy group, and that barely comes close to describing all of what goes on. It seems scarcely believable consenting adults of sound mind would put themselves through this sort of bizarre spectacle and willingly return for more; yet they do. It just goes to prove how effective the conditioning is.

This footage will be a boon to the NRP. Everything, from the impassioned pseudo-sermon by the neighbourhood leader on the redemptive qualities of work and the sin of idleness; to the self-criticism session - where blubbing members stand in front of their fellows and confess they've not been able to do enough for the movement recently, but stammeringly promise to make amends in the future to rapturous applause - is ready made for ridicule.

The team-building exercises involving playground clapping games couldn't have been dreamt up in even the most imaginative flights of fancy of our campaign group. There's also a venting session where, in true Orwellian style, members of the group express their loathing for those they see as the villains of the moment; I'm so pleased it is we in IMS who feature so prominently this time.

But the highlight has to be the exultant close to the meeting marked by the singing of a karaoke version of 'The Family Of Man'; their adopted anthem. The lyrics of the old 1960s pop-folk standard have been slightly adapted to reflect our times; for no-one now would refer to "the miner in the Rhonda, the coolie in Peking", no matter how well meant the sentiment. Those words were changed to "the miner underground and the worker in Beijing".  It's open to question what The Spinners would have thought of their tune being appropriated by the Connies and sung with such glazed-eyed gusto by blissed-out congregations; assuming they could ever have imagined such a deranged organisation could ever exist outside of a drug addled nightmare. Might they have  cringed at the misuse of their song? I hope so.

As the introductory notes begin, the lyrics are displayed on a large filmscreen, though they are largely redundant; Connies take particular pride in learning their songs by heart. Watching the joyful tears trickling down the faces of the hundreds of our would-be saviours as they recharge their vigour for the missionary quest to save us from ourselves, I know these images will do us no end of good, especially those of the clapping along and synchronised clumping of flacks in time with the music lending an air of barely restrained fanaticism to the proceedings.

I wondered if this wasn't just too good to be true. I suspected a deliberate attempt by them to pull a fast one on us, and so discredit our newsgathering reputation. But having met the source - while wearing covert 'cording gear just in case, so we could turn any attempt by the Connies to dupe us back against them - I'm convinced he's genuine.