A life time fan and Prisonerologist of the 1960's series 'the Prisoner', a leading authority on the subject, a short story writer, and now Prisoner novelist.
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Tuesday, 22 December 2015
Village Life!
What’s all this, another bad night, a bad dream more like. It’s not enough that you’re living a nightmare, you have to dream about it as well!
Now how do you think that happened? Perhaps you were restless, more likely they have got into your dreams! Number 2 wants to know why you resigned, he thinks you were going to sell out. He wants to know what it was you had to sell and to whom you were going to sell it. Did you know he’s had your whole life researched and computed, but he hasn’t read your file. You were utterly devoted and loyal, you are still loyal, nothing will make you talk. But dreams are a funny thing, and for Number 2 you woke up at the most inconvenient time. You want to be careful, he’ll be using Inception next to control your dreams, to manipulate them, to place an idea into your subconscious and then he’ll make you believe that the idea originated from you. Oh and how do you know you are awake now, and are not still in the dream? Ah, the puncture marks on your wrist, that’s a dead giveaway, and just as well for you. But isn’t The Village a dream dreamt up by you? You know if you keep living this dream you just might be taken for mad. Why don’t you simply wake up and give everyone, including yourself a break? You’ve been in this dream for fifty years now, that’s when it all began, with an idea. Your idea, about a man in isolation, a man who resigned his job but won’t give the reason why. But you did tell someone, you wrote your reason down in a letter. And what was it you were ranting and raving about in that office? If I were Number 2, I’d forget about ‘A B and C,’ I’d take you back in your subconscious to that morning you handed in your letter of resignation. I’d stand and watch the screen as you stormed into that office, that petty bureaucrat sitting passively behind his oak desk, as you pace up and down shouting your head off. And while you were doing that, I’d have a tape recorder ready as I turned up the sound so that I could hear and record what it was you were shouting about.
So you really were going on holiday. You handed in your letter of resignation, went home, collected your passport, airline ticket, two suitcases, and yet here you are living the dream!
Be seeing you
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