The Blurt of Richard Davies

Chapter Thirty One

April the 7th.

Shit! Pompey's Division Two promotion push has derailled. The 0-1 loss against Blackburn Rovers making it impossible to reach the playoffs now. Sport, as everything else in life, was hit hard by the Crises. During those turbulent times the upper class events, Henley, Wimbledon, the Ascot races, and suchlike were held behind a wall of security. Now the security, as well as the events themselves are far more discreet; the reduced sponsorships and wealth far less ostentatiously flaunted, though still very much in evidence.

It was football, the most noticable and popular sport, which was chosen to be 'democratised' after the collapse of the Premier League. Formula 1 also had financial problems, but it was allowed to fail. Our national game couldn't be allowed to fragment so the Sports Commission oversaw the reintegration of the traditional four division structure with most of the previous teams involved; though not all of the them survived the Transition.

We were so close to getting a draw which could have kept our hopes alive if other results had gone in our favour; but we didn't hold out and the other scores didn't go our way. If our season hadn't been so disrupted by weather related postponements and the team worn down by playing so many catch-up games in such a short period of time in late April, perhaps things may have been different.

As Pompey fans we ought to be well used to disappointment by now; but needless to say some of the natives weren't happy. But instead of taking their frustrations out on the few away supporters who could afford to come down to Fratton Park, the disgruntled fans went out after Connies, Compies, and any buildings connected with them they could find. It was just a minor bit of aggro; a couple of windows broken, a few running scuffles, and then a quick exit: Nothing to report or be reported; the local OMS saw to that. As yet there are no reports of any arrests being made. I wonder if is this another straw blown along by the gathering wind of discontent? And might a disintegrating haystack be heading our way?

April the 10th.

I spotted another one today on the ride home. When I first saw the crowd I thought a tuk had ran off the road and crashed; they may be more economical than the cars they supplanted but despite their supposed safety features I still regard them as bloody death traps. Then I realised what was going on. It's something to do with one of the large billboards mounted on a high wall; self-powered, wirelessly updated solarfilm screens which are cheaper to produce than old-style paper posters. With there being so little to advertise these days, and the promotion of unnecessary consumption officially discouraged, they spend most of their time displaying uplifting inspirational slogans, public information, or health promotion messages. So what has caused this knot of bemused people to congregate there, watching the board? And why are others quickly walking away as if frightened? Hurrying away from a possibly infected place, or not wanting to be seen near a crime scene.

The Consensus propaganda vignette begins again. It shows scenes of happy, industrious people; many dressed in the Connie uniform of ute-suit and flacks engaged in various busy community activities ending with the ubiquitous FORWARD TOGETHER! Then a molten red weal of a slash rips down from the top left of the picture, carving its way to the bottom centre before rising at another 45° angle up to the top right. Some people may not understand the connotations of that animation, but the frazzler who had wurdled it obviously knew the symbol resonated through the popular culture of the past, in both a vintage science fiction series and the fact of a real-life resistance against an occupying tyranny.

Such fiction wouldn't be made or 'cast now, and the factual use of the symbol in the occupied europe of World War Two would be ignored as a mere historic detail, if remarked upon at all. Yet there is still a residual cultural memory left, and enough people remain aware of its meaning, for the fact of its appearance now, of all times, to cause a stir.