Gary Budgen
Ten Plagues upon your House
The plague of teleabsence. Those afflicted are no longer able to communicate with those they are with, only with those who are somewhere else. Voices across great distance speak to them, words of the absent scroll across their hands. Their bodies are found with their devices clutched in their bony fists, plugged into the earholes of their skull.
The plague of spectacles. Mass hysteria around the launch of a new product. The more trivial and useless the product the more frenzied the hysteria.
The plague of light nonsense. The victims become unable to discuss anything of weight or import. They can only converse about soap operas, talent shows and the anthropomorphic doings of cats.
The plague of celebrity. Whole towns become populated with ersatz weather girls, pop singers, TV-chefs.
The plague of selfies. In which I see only myself and no-one else.
The plague of games. An ordinary street becomes the backdrop to an adventure where you are compelled to perform rash vehicle thefts, random acts of violence.
The plague of home-improvement. People with this affliction lock themselves away and embark upon an obsessive quest for domestic utopia using MDF and self-assembly furniture.
The plague of real life. The victims of this believe themselves immune to the other plagues. They happily stroll through the plague zones confidently. Usually they become lost in familiar streets that have become incomprehensible.
The plague of art. The victims see the objects of their world transformed into pieces of aura-shrouded art. They must admire, they must worship. Typically someone will starve to death contemplating the sleek seductive lines of their toaster.
The plague of politics. The most serious plague of all. Sufferers become convinced that it is in their power to do something about the plagues. If only other people would listen, if only they would obey.
