Argos and the laminated book of dreams.
Today whilst in town I witnessed an effect that I have been tracking for some time. I am speaking of course of the unique power/field/gravitational pull of the catalogue shop: Argos.
It is a constant source of amazement and amusement to watch people attempt to pull away from the doorway to fulfilment where every little whim, electronic or otherwise can be satisfied by performing the ritual of 'browsing' then the lesser known ritual of 'payment' which is combined with the harrowing task of 'waiting'.
People from all walks of life struggle to make ends meet day in and day out but the moment these frugal individuals walk near the shining glory of Argos, caution is thrown to the wind and they enter...some are never seen again...some emerge looking vacant and clutching the oddest items - a rotary hedge trimmer when they have no back garden and they live in the top storey of a twenty storey block of flats.
When asked why they purchased this item they can only reply numbly: The book made me do it.
Bill Bailey puts it best in his latest DVD: Part Troll, where he speaks about the Laminated Book of Dreams.
But the effect is akin to that of a black hole where once you step too close you're drawn towards the event horizon and have no hope of escape, droves of pensioners and teenagers are thrown within the brightly glowing doorway and can be seen clustered around the book, pouring through it with no rhyme or reason...some of them wear confused expressions and those that make it to the entry are caught by the insidious staff whispering seductive platitudes of: Special Offers and Bargains.
Argos has become in many ways the new age Garden of Eden where for the right price the mechanical and technological fancies of the modern world can be viewed in glorious flat plastic, colourful icons that are really spells bound into the book, spells to make you salivate over the idea of owning a Morphy Richards Toaster, Tea-Maker and Alarm Clock + DVD player and Fortune Teller.
It's only £99.99p go on you know you want to, you know you want to. Meanwhile behind a screen of flat one-way glass Satan sits smoking a big cigar and laughing at those drawn into his insidious web of lies...either that or it's the manager having a secret smoke of a forbidden ciggy.
Food for thought? Or thoughtful food? The ranting of a madman? I will leave that for you to decide, but remember if you're ever close to an Argos or similar catalogue shop - RUN Mr. Frodo RUN as fast as you can, don't look back because not only will you be turned into a pillar of salt, you'll have to nip back and buy a shaker to go with it.
After all, it's on Special Offer.
It is a constant source of amazement and amusement to watch people attempt to pull away from the doorway to fulfilment where every little whim, electronic or otherwise can be satisfied by performing the ritual of 'browsing' then the lesser known ritual of 'payment' which is combined with the harrowing task of 'waiting'.
People from all walks of life struggle to make ends meet day in and day out but the moment these frugal individuals walk near the shining glory of Argos, caution is thrown to the wind and they enter...some are never seen again...some emerge looking vacant and clutching the oddest items - a rotary hedge trimmer when they have no back garden and they live in the top storey of a twenty storey block of flats.
When asked why they purchased this item they can only reply numbly: The book made me do it.
Bill Bailey puts it best in his latest DVD: Part Troll, where he speaks about the Laminated Book of Dreams.
But the effect is akin to that of a black hole where once you step too close you're drawn towards the event horizon and have no hope of escape, droves of pensioners and teenagers are thrown within the brightly glowing doorway and can be seen clustered around the book, pouring through it with no rhyme or reason...some of them wear confused expressions and those that make it to the entry are caught by the insidious staff whispering seductive platitudes of: Special Offers and Bargains.
Argos has become in many ways the new age Garden of Eden where for the right price the mechanical and technological fancies of the modern world can be viewed in glorious flat plastic, colourful icons that are really spells bound into the book, spells to make you salivate over the idea of owning a Morphy Richards Toaster, Tea-Maker and Alarm Clock + DVD player and Fortune Teller.
It's only £99.99p go on you know you want to, you know you want to. Meanwhile behind a screen of flat one-way glass Satan sits smoking a big cigar and laughing at those drawn into his insidious web of lies...either that or it's the manager having a secret smoke of a forbidden ciggy.
Food for thought? Or thoughtful food? The ranting of a madman? I will leave that for you to decide, but remember if you're ever close to an Argos or similar catalogue shop - RUN Mr. Frodo RUN as fast as you can, don't look back because not only will you be turned into a pillar of salt, you'll have to nip back and buy a shaker to go with it.
After all, it's on Special Offer.