Delete-Man: A Psychological Thriller (24 page)

“Ok, I’ve done it.”

“What?”

“I’ve found her files. What’s it
called?”

“What? Already?”

“Yeah. I didn’t need to install
it after all. I just started it from the cd and I can see
everything: Look.”

I leaned in towards the laptop.
It looked different, but sure enough, there were numerous files
that looked like Josie’s: Music, pictures, her CV.

“Wait, click that. Manuscript
three. There. That must be it. Quickly, is there paper in the
printer? Can you print from here? Copy it to USB.”

“Keep your wig on, big bro.”

“Copy everything.”

“It won’t fit everything.”

“Ok forget it then. Just the
manuscript.”

“Ok done. What else?”

I yanked out the USB stick and
stuck it into our own computer. I clicked on the file and it
opened. Streams of words poured up the screen as I scrolled.

“It works!”

“Awesome. Can you call for
pizza?”

“Yeah. Wait, I’m going to print
this out.”

I reached over and pulled Vicky
up onto my shoulder. She squealed with surprise.

“My smart little filmstar!”

[Insert Anger-man diagram #17
here]

At the bower by the lake I first
saw the shape, engraved into a tree crudely. Its strange nature
seemed somewhat deliberate, despite the aggressive, hurried slashes
and curves that it was composed of. It is difficult to recall my
first reaction precisely, but I can remember some quaint sense of
allure that drew me to inspect the grooves and indentations with my
fingers. It’s not entirely rare that I find some object or image
which I am intrigued by, so once my initial response had subsided,
I turned my mind to other things and left the carving as nothing
more than a mildly interesting curiousity.

That night however, I dreamt
violently of that symbol. I am neither prone to violent dreams, nor
of remembering them fully, so the sweating, exasperated manner in
which I woke was rather disturbing. In the dream I was being
attacked, spontaneously and overwhelmingly. From all sides, by
objects sharp, blunt, small and large, I was assaulted and
penetrated. I felt I was being violated in all ways, with no inch
of my body left unscarred, and with seemingly no option but that of
utter submission. The objects of my torture were vague and
abstracted, but very clearly made up of the curves, lines, and
gnarled bark of that shape I had seen by the lake. Albeit in that
obtuse sense of connection that occurs in dreams.

Eventually, my state of mind was
put under so much stress and anguish that futilely I retaliated. I
flailed my arms, kicked my legs, and screamed. Unlike that common
experience in dreams, where limbs move as if submerged and vocal
chords are utterly diminished in strength, my scream came out as a
thunderous roar, my arms were dangerously steeled and fast, and my
legs kicked with a gigantic strength. I managed to keep the objects
at bay briefly, and consequently more came. I kicked and screamed
harder. Still more dangers surrounded me, requiring me to increase
my own surge of hate-filled aggression. The cycle continued until I
woke up with a dry throat, and a body that ached. My bed sheets
were sprawled across the floor—I had no doubt been so overcome with
physical anger in the dream that even asleep my body had kicked and
shouted.

Aside from the rare occurrence
of such a vividly recalled dream—let alone a nightmare of such
disturbing quality—certain aspects of the dream provoked me to
examine it further. For one, I had recalled in the dream
intricacies of the engraved shape that I would certainly have been
unable to remember soon after seeing it in actuality. More
surprisingly perhaps, upon waking I could remember the symbol as
clearly and easily as if I had spent an hour memorising its
features.

[Insert phonepad sketches
here]

Throughout the following days
the shape remained at the periphery of my thoughts, along with the
sensation of something unattained, or a task yet to be
accomplished. I found myself doodling the image whilst conversing
on the phone, or during moments of reverie. (Much later, I also
discovered that even my handwriting had altered slightly during
this period.)

[Insert handwriting comparison
here]

What began as a recessed
thought—nothing more than a mental note—grew slowly into a subdued
yet pervasive obsession. Above all, the symbol was to me something
unresolved; a great yearning or urge that overrode all reasonable
thinking and affected my behaviours insidiously. It was akin to
some sexual or primal impulse. Like those feelings, it was never
fully satisfied.

Even as I write these
paragraphs—with all the comforting benefits of hindsight—I am
struggling to define my sensations with clarity and without
deleting all I’ve written and once again attempting to repress all
I know of the symbol and its brothers. It’s an illogical and
counter-productive temptation however. The act has already been
committed. [Maybe omit this last paragraph]

For weeks afterwards, I acted in
a manner which makes me cringe and afraid on reflection. The things
I said and did were entirely foreign to me, so much so that I
recall them as if from some third person perspective, through the
eyes of others. Perhaps this is telling in itself.

Nevertheless, I managed—and
still manage, albeit cautiously—to maintain my rationale enough to
investigate the phenomena. What began has a personal exploration,
has become something of a much more profound and important
investigation for humanity as a whole. Perhaps even a message, a
warning, a guide, a document. [And a confession]

There was a time when the
reddest hue humans saw was in the dark crimson of fresh blood. A
prehistoric, savage, and brutal time maybe; where all existence was
dangerous yet simple. Seeing that rich, flowing colour would induce
an instinctual alarm; of violence, of imminent disease, of death or
unknown beasts. (Research also shows that the colour red can cause
feelings of hunger.) It may have been one of the first, and most
important, associations we made as a species. Even after millennia
of gestures, speech, pictures, symbols, vocabulary, language,
logos, and brands we still recognise in the vibrant red of stop
signs, traffic lights, and fire exits signals of danger. Cautions,
albeit constructed ones, where our responses now are delineated
rather than intuited.

Modern advertising applies much
the same principle to achieve its goal. Its success depends upon
linking the image, the briefest of signals, to induce an action via
deep emotional responses or unconscious conceptual association. The
term advertising itself underplays the broadness of how this
principle is applied: Politics, PR, news reportage, the arts, etc.
As a term itself, advertising implies a simple and forthright
purpose, but the aggressive and unrestrained manner with which
modern advertising targets and manipulates is probably better
defined as propaganda.

There have been many books
written on the subject, and plenty of research to support the very
tangible link between advertising and our emotional and
psychological states. Though the largest and most irrefutable
evidence of its effectiveness is in the real world: The obvious,
irrational fact that whilst we live in an ecologically damaging
society, where most goods are produced under ethically dubious
circumstances, and consumers are economically far more fragile than
decades past, our desire for unnecessary consumer goods rises
exponentially. An estimated 70% of consumer goods purchased last
year were in large part either unnecessary or made artificially
obsolete this year (Jackson, Davids, et al; Consumer Trends,
2009).

The question beneath all of this
is why, with so much evidence and knowledge available to the
public, is damaging and irrational propaganda still so penetrative
and effective. Claude Packard, one of Europe’s most progressive and
successful PR consultants, suggests that it is an inherent
proponent of modern advertising to deny, or persuade against,
critical thinking.

“[The irony]…is that everybody
sees themselves as smart, strong, intelligent, media-savvy,
concerning, and most of all, capable of making the right choices—Of
course they do, because everything around them is telling them
that. Good advertising isn’t going to make you feel like shit. Not
directly, anyway. Good advertising tells you that you will feel
wonderful with this great new thing. It makes the choice feel like
the right choice, the correct choice. The one that smart,
intelligent, great people make. It’s aspirational; not exclusive,
and when it is being exclusive, it’s because it’s offering the
prospect of easy membership to a brilliant club.

“[Intelligence]... doesn’t come
into it. It’s not about that at all. Saying you’re too smart to buy
into advertising is like saying you’re too smart to buy into love,
or hate, or fear, or happiness, or sadness. I can look at a
beautiful woman and say ‘Yeah, she’s gorgeous, but I’m too smart to
want to screw her’; but whether I want to screw her or not isn’t
even really up to me. Chances are that I’ll want to, and lying to
myself is only going to make it worse.

“So long as people think of
themselves as intelligent, advertising will continue to work. The
second they hold back and say ‘Wait a minute, there’s something
going on here, and even I might fall for it. I’m capable of being
taken for a ride’ then the whole structure of contemporary
advertising collapses.”

Claude Packard, 2009

One other suggestion for
people’s obliviousness to the ‘toxic culture’ (Jean Kilbourne) of
advertising is the assumption that we have sufficient regulation to
prevent dangerous advertising. Moreover, that there is no
incentive, nor possibility for such unhealthy and immoral methods
of propaganda to be used. No ‘big evil men’ as it were, and indeed,
there are no calculating, evil barons at the top of some secretive
and powerful clique propagating these viral concepts. (The hint of
conspiracy undermines all rational complaints towards propaganda,
and is often used to defend it). Rather, there are legions of
creative consultants, brand managers, social media administrators,
advertising executives and others all constantly seeking the brand
that penetrates and affects as thoroughly as possible. The result
is effectiveness by refinement rather than brilliance. The
by-product of such design by trial-and-error becomes an freedom of
responsibility, where designers don’t themselves fully understand
the deep emotional and sociological effects of their work. They
irresponsibly damage further, with what they may derisively see as
disposable concepts absorbed, used to their own ends, then
discarded. The effects are far more complex than this simple
methodology, however.

Dr. John Hughton is a
psychiatrist and academic who has written much about the subject of
psychological disorders, social effects and branding, as well as
holding a leading position on the board of PREA (Psychological
Research into Ethical Advertising). In his recent publications, Dr.
Hughton has spoken about irresponsible use of design in the public
domain. One of his central and most compelling arguments involves
the fashion industry:

“[The problem]… is not the use
of abnormally thin girls in advertising, but the association of
them with desirable aspects. A thin girl is a thin girl, unless she
is dressed expensively, in a demure pose, and exuding all the
attributes that the public has become predisposed to admire.

“...So the question remains: Why
has a thin body image become, almost exclusively, the most
preferred body type in the penetrative media, despite only a small
minority of the public capable of relating to it, and the huge
amounts of outrage it inspires, as well as the health issues which
surround it? Many theories are grounded in legitimacy, e.g.; its
unattainability actively serving the aspirational agenda it often
comes with, the unconscious sexual degradation resulting in
‘reducing femininity to nothingness’ (Anna Hashcram, 1978), or a
‘culture of infantilisation’ (James Scowcroft, 2002).

“When seen from a design
perspective however, other reasons become apparent. In
two-dimensional aesthetics, straight lines, angles, and sharper
contrasts are more visually arresting and harmonious than curves,
or colours which segue into one another. It is a principle known
and applied in architecture, publishing, cinema, and art. In
two-dimensional media straight lines conserve space, delineate
points of light more clearly, and fit the form they are presented
in (the rectangles and squares of screens and paper). It is almost
coincidental that this purely aesthetic design principle, combined
with an industry that publicises itself via magazines, posters,
television and the internet has resulted in a female archetype
which is unrealistic, alienating—and yet visually compelling to
many people.”

Excerpt from ‘Taking Ownership:
The Copied Identity’ (Hazar Publishing House, 2004)

This aesthetic approach to
propaganda is extremely illuminating, it hints at the possibility
of an image affecting the viewer regardless of its societal
context. Based entirely upon the simple and permanent rules of
aesthetics, rather than the developed and mutable ones of society,
an image is capable of provoking an emotional response. Just as red
is the cue for danger, a symbol can contain some inherent
associations, and through these associations induce responses.

The concept of a symbol which is
capable of provoking a viewer, regardless of its context or
intention, is the holy grail of advertising. Millions are spent
daily in charging various logos and insignias with emotional weight
and positive connotations. To develop, or discover, a symbol that
is already imbued as such, and can thus be used all over the world
with minimum effort, is almost the stuff of sci-fi dreams.