Day 3: Second impression of England: Orwellian creepy. This impression is based entirely on the posters that fill the tube station and threaten to kill anyone who doesn’t pay the TV-licensing fee. Haha, the posters stop short of death threats, but they’re definitely leaning in that direction. I don’t know the whole story, but apparently high-quality government-sponsored television programming is regarded as a fundamental right in Britain, right up there with the right to a trial or the right to meat-flavored crisps, so they can’t pay for programming by selling ad space on the BBC, but of course they need to pay for it somehow, and if you put a tax on the manufacture, importation, or sale of televisions, well, that would Harm Industry, and We Must Never Harm Industry, so that’s out. But, while they can’t charge you for buying or selling a TV, they can charge you for turning one on, so this is what they do. I don’t know how they do it exactly, and maybe neither do they, because the posters are vague. “Find us on the internet before we find you” reads one poster, advertising the government website where you can pay your licensing fee. “Don’t want to pay the TV licensing fee? Fine.” reads another, which proves that even creepy big-brother PR guys have a sense of humor. “We shall have your firstborn” reads another poster that I just made up. The point here is that Britain, already ridiculed as a nanny-state both within and without its borders (although internal critics are careful to criticize only during Her Highness’ Royal Criticising Hours, and to do so well before bedtime, so as not to upset their tum-tums), is not doing itself any favors with the guilt-mongering scare-tactics. It’s worth mentioning that the layout of the ads is very self-knowing, all cold dark backgrounds with laserpoint letter print that suggests nothing if not technoauthoritarianism, and I´ve been thinking about whether or not this winking in-on-the-jokiness somehow mitigates the overall 1984 effect. But I’ve decided that it doesn’t. The posters might be kind of funny, but I’m pretty sure they’ll still nail your ass to the wall given half the chance. In short, these posters are sort of like the young hip substitute teacher who acts all cool and tells jokes and wins your confidence and puts your guard down and then slaps you with a referral as soon as one little cussword escapes your lips. I hated that guy, and these posters give me the willies. |
