Read Online The Garden of Unearthly Delights by Robert Rankin - Free Book Online Page B

understanding, that the news tellers of ancient times were
always assisted by a news crumpet. A glamorous young woman who provided for the
sexual fantasies of the male viewing public and dealt with the second-rate news
items that were beneath the dignity of the male news teller to relate.’
    ‘That’s
not quite how I would have put it,’ said Maxwell. ‘But it is in essence
correct.’
    ‘And I
would get one of these?’
    ‘Well,’
said Maxwell, ‘I don’t see why not.’
    ‘The
mayor has a most attractive daughter,’ said the zany, ‘or so I’ve heard, anyway.’
    ‘That’s
settled then,’ said Maxwell. ‘Now listen to what I have in mind. Picture, if
you will, a year from now. Imagine, as I have, a network of news gatherers
covering the country. An information supertrackway.
    Each
town and village with its own permanent TV set. You at the head of a mighty
organization dedicated to education and instruction, to engender progress, to
raise standards. To—’
    ‘Hold
hard,’ cried the news teller. ‘Although wildly ambitious, there is much here to
inspire one of noble calling such as myself, but I spy a very large flaw
in your concept.’
    ‘Which
is?’
    ‘Which
is, who is going to pay for all this? The takings from the contributions sacks
could at best support only the news teller and his crumpet. Who would pay these
seekers after news who must scour the countryside?’
    ‘You
would,’ said Maxwell. ‘Out of the huge revenues you would receive.’
    ‘Huge
revenues? From what?’
    Maxwell
grinned his winning grin. ‘Have you ever heard of something called a TV
commercial?’ he asked.

 
     
     
     
     
    5
     
    Over what was possibly the
first business lunch to be held in nearly one hundred years, Maxwell explained
the principle of advertising and the power of the TV commercial.
    ‘The
substance of the thing is this,’ said Maxwell. ‘You are a respected man, are
you not?’
    Dayglo
Hilyte nodded proudly and munched upon a parsnip.
    ‘You
represent authority, someone who can be trusted.’
    ‘I
pride myself upon this.’
    ‘So if
you were to recommend a specific product, for instance, one particular baker’s
bread, which you considered superior to that of his rivals, your viewing
public would respect your opinion.’
    ‘I
should expect nothing less.’
    ‘Is
there anything in this town you would recommend to me?’
    Dayglo
pursed his lips. ‘The apothecary at the end of the river lane produces a most
efficacious laxative.’
    ‘Hm,’
said Maxwell. ‘But all right. So if you were to approach the apothecary and
tell him that for a small fee you would be prepared, during one of your broadcasts,
to sing the praises of his laxative—’
    ‘Sing?’
Dayglo fell back in horror. ‘Sing?’
    ‘Only a
turn of phrase. Recommend then, to your viewing public, thereby creating
what is known as “product awareness”. Folk who heard your recommendation, who
trusted you, would thereafter purchase their laxative from this apothecary.’
    ‘But
they would anyway. He is the only apothecary in town.’
    Maxwell
sighed. ‘There is more than one baker’s shop.
    ‘Agreed.’
    ‘And
more than one grocer, and more than one tavern and more than one inn and more
than one butcher—’
    ‘Aha,’
said the zany. ‘I follow this reasoning. If, for a small fee, Mr Hilyte was to
broadcast that “Bulgarth the butcher’s beef is the best”, then folk who
previously purchased their beef elsewhere, might be persuaded to shop at
Bulgarth’s instead.’
    ‘You
have it,’ said Maxwell. ‘For the small fee Bulgarth has paid you, his trade
increases manyfold.’
    ‘I see
a problem here,’ said Dayglo Hilyte. ‘What of the other butchers who now lose
trade?’
    ‘This
brings us to what is called “the spirit of healthy competition”,’ Maxwell told
him. ‘For example, I myself have looked into the window of Leibwitz. His hams
appear eminently superior to those of Bulgarth.’
    ‘I see
it, I see