The Narrowcast: "Hard Angles"
The National Analog Media Archive began a tremendous effort to catalog and preserve all forms of analog media. One such area of media was public access broadcasts. After the meticulous process of collecting and reviewing an incredible amount of hours of footage, the process had been completed and the archives were made available to the public.
However, within the many hours of shows and film projects, there were some oddities that caused concern due to unusual content. These selected airings were vaulted due to content deemed too intense for the public to view.
These are the stories of the strangeness found within the narrowcast.
Show Title: Hard Angles
Air Date: November 14, 1988
The screen was black for a single beat. Hues of purple, green, orange and yellow collided and then swirled around, revealing a slightly grainy view of a talk show set.
A thick blue carpet covered the raised floor where a beige and yellow striped chair sat next to a walnut desk.
The chair was occupied by a short and stout man, his portly figure somewhat squished into the space the chair had to offer. He was wearing a gray suit and sat with one leg crossed over the other.
Behind the walnut desk was a man in a tan corduroy jacket, his shaggy brown hair almost reaching his shoulders. He wore sunglasses that had a gradient of dark black to a coffee brown.
The camera zoomed in with a bit of a hitch as the video was accompanied by a snappy electric guitar solo. The words “Hard Angles with Byron Trull” slid from the left to the center of the screen and lingered until the guitar solo began to fade The words eventually made an exit to the right of the screen as the camera now had the man with the corduroy jacket squarely within the frame.
“Hello. This is the weekly talk show where a diverse collection of controversial and current topics are tackled head on from every viewpoint. Where the thoughts tend to come from out of the box and straight from the hip. I am your host, Byron Trull, and tonight I am taking some hard angles on…” As Trull finished his intro, he turned to a secondary camera. The editing cut wasn’t perfect, as his turn to the next camera is caught at the end of the first shot.
“Religion. With me today is a historian and political science teacher at City Central Community College, Professor Richard Whalturn. Professor, thank you for being on the show.” Trull said. The camera cut to a smiling Whalturn.
“Well, thank you for having me,” Whalturn replied. Trull leaned back in his chair before he spoke again.
“Professor, you’ve taught the youth today about the current political and social turmoil that faces many nations today, including our own. What is your opinion on how religion, for better or worse, influences these geopolitical tides?” Trull said.
“Well, Mr. Trull, religion has always had some influence over the society for which it is present. From the tribes of the African plains, to the Holy Roman Empire, and even into today’s debates and policy making, it trickles in because it is a human element. Most humans have some sort of religious belief, and from that greater communities are born, and their influence can be found in the art, music, and culture of the time.” Whalturn said in a soft but melodious tone.
“Ah, but there are atheists and agnostics, professor. There are also so many sects and branches of some religions that it has truly become a web of noise within every avenue of our modern world.” Trull said while sitting a bit more forward in his chair.
“You are not a fan of religion, are you Mr. Trull?” Whalturn asked.
“No, not at all. I find that it is a man-made tool for puppeteering the masses. It pushes the normally rational person into finding ways to hate and divide, while also roping that person into a life of constant repayment of a debt that they only perceive to have. I think religion can be pointed to as the route of many of our problems as a society.” Trull said with a very matter-of-fact tone.
Whalturn scoffed and shook his head.
“Faith. Belief.They can be very powerful and meaningful to an individual.” Whalturn replied.
“And profitable for those that choose to pull on those heart strings.” Trull replied quickly. The camera became focused once again solely on Trull as he looked directly at the camera through his sunglasses.
“Now we take a few calls to get some outside opinions. Caller number one, Del, from New Orleans. What is your take on this grand old scheme we call religion?” Trull said.
When Del spoke, his voice was both serene and serrated. He spoke with a soft eloquence, but a harsh static clung to the back end of his words.
“Mr. Trull, may I say I am a big fan of the show. And on the topic of religion, I find that I must agree with almost everything you have to say. It is a truly delicious way to push and pull people along, like livestock lost in a field of their own making. Some find the posture to graze, while others are led to the slaughterhouse.” Del said.
“Wow, that’s a great analogy. Love to hear that sort of real talk…” Trull’s comments were cut short as Del continued, paying no mind to Trull on the other end.
“However, I do find one flaw within your thesis. You are clever enough to see the strings but cannot turn your head high enough to see who shakes them all into their place. You think man controls this world? Oh, for such an intuitive man that is such a simple mistake to make.” Del paused after he spoke, and Trull jumped in to reply.
“So who is in control? Who is running the show? The governments? The corporations?” Trull asked. A sinister cackle raked the audio of the show, causing a few spots of bad feedback and distorted audio.
“Why, I run the show, and others like me. The gods you cannot understand. The deities that your fables speak of. You have no grasp of what we can truly do, but I can give you a taste, Mr. Trull. Can’t you feel it, manifesting inside of you? Your confidence turns into fear. Your truths turn into doubts. Can you feel it, scalding your insides, pulling you apart from within?” Del said, each word ramping up with authority.
Trull had begun to sweat profusely, and his body was trembling. His arms began to spread out wide, and Trull began to levitate from the chair. Whalturn was stricken with fear, and blood had started to flow from his eyes, nose, ears and mouth as he watched Trull get higher and higher in the studio. The studio lights flickered and the set looked as if was in the middle of an earthquake.
“We do as we please with the pawns of our eternal game. You are all just parasites beneath our feet. But even something as small as you can make enough noise to catch our attention. So I thought we’d have a little chat. You should be so honored for this interaction. Let us show the world that those that pull the strings, can cut them just as easily. Behold!” Del shouted and the audio became a high pitch buzz as all the recording equipment failed within the studio. Whalturn had fallen from his seat, his lifeless body laying in the ever growing pool of his own blood. Trull’s body shook violently, his bones snapped as his body torqued and convulsed as it condensed into itself. His body then expanded back out, his limbs tore off his body, and he exploded into a mist that slowly began to fall back down onto the walnut desk below.
The camera cuts stopped, and there were twenty-four straight minutes of a single shot of the carnage before the camera simply turned off and the screen went black once more.
