(Distorted voices)
(Distorted laughter)
I am proud to be stupid. I am proud to be stupid.
Tonight on Brass Eye, are we in a state of irreversible decline?
What's the reason, what can be done about it
and if there is a solution, who is going to put it into action?
Or is everything just great?
(All laugh)
Welcome to the nerve centre of tonight's programme.
To paint a true picture of Britain,
we have surveillance cameras out with reporters.
Austen Tassletine - Austen, what are you doing?
I'm at a garage in the centre of Clapton in London
which is raided every 35 minutes, day and night.
So we hope that during the next half-hour we'll see some action.
We certainly do. Now, we've just received these pictures
from a camera in a playground.
They show an apparently innocent children's game
which is in fact an exchange of drugs.
And those two children are lucky not to have been killed to bits.
1996: what is the true state of Britain -
basking in rude health?
Or sick to the guts,
its thermoralmometer now reading less than two morals per head
due to massive value haemorrhage?
Some would say tish and fibsy but others wouldn't.
Due to repeat woundings from weapons like this.
And this.
This is where pop happens and pop is always trouble.
The new single by Blouse is a song of love to Myra Hindley
and it's caused more stink
than a bomb in the toilets at a rock festival.
# When I saw your photo in the press
# I thought, "Is she blonde under her dress? "
# I thought, "I hope they make her take off her dress"
# But they didn't, even though it would be much better... #
Myra Hindley is a very complex woman and this song is about...her hair.
# I used to have your picture in the toilet
# I wanted you to see my naked body and oil it
# But my mother had to catch me and spoil it
# And I don't think even you... could've given me more
# Murder... #
There isn't a single reference in the song to her brain,
which I think had a slight problem.
# Every time I see your picture, Myra
# I have to phone my latest girlfriend and fire her
# And find a prostitute who looks like you and hire her
# Oh, me oh Myra... #
I think if somebody's bought this record
just because of the fuss made about it,
they should throw it away
and then buy another copy because they like the song.
# Watch out, lady, I'm gonna have you later
# Just cos I want her and I can get her and you can't
# So pogo on that you twat
# Oh, oh #
(Echoing) Traditionally we turn to the Bible for help
but now even that's been devalued by those who used to espouse it.
Terry Waite, once special envoy to the Archbishop of Canterbury,
has been paid two million pounds to write a fifth gospel
to replace the existing four.
(Waite) 'Jesus didn't know he was Jesus
until he'd been chained to the radiator.
Are we now utterly without guidance?
How else do you explain the popularity of events like this?
Next week, Peter Sutcliffe takes to the West End stage
to star in a musical of his own life.
On day release from Broadmoor, Sutcliffe has been rehearsing.
# Sutcliffe, Sutcliffe! #
The role includes singing police chases...
# Hee hee hee, you'll never get me in the slammer! #
..but finishes with Sutcliffe atoning for his crimes.
# And I really am so very truly sorry #
Co-star Marigold says he's a kind man with a sense of humour.
I mean, he's always... (Laughs) always jumping out at you,
"Whoa!" like this.
So what will the audience make of it?
I think they'll go away thinking
maybe he's a really misunderstood man.
Maybe that 20 years ago he was taking the piss.
Not everyone sees the positive side.
Peter Sutcliffe is allowed out under police escort
to perform a work about his own life in musical form.
The catch is he says, "I'm sorry."
I don't care what he's saying. He's forfeited his rights to society
by doing so much damage to society.
- His agent says... - Agent! What a game!
- I know. - An agent?!
- He's in jail for life! - The producer of the show.
There shouldn't be a show.
Should we revive our ailing culture
or just put it out of its misery?
Or should we bring it back to life
and then shoot it for letting us down so badly?
You haven't got a clue, have you?
But you will do if you watch for 30 minutes.
If you want to let us know what you think of Britain's decline,
then please do make use of our phones.
Let's check that garage where there could be an incident now,
Austen Tassletine is there. Austen - oi! Anything happened?
No, nothing. There was a small incident with a pen
but nothing serious, no.
Exactly what do you mean by "a small incident with a pen"?
- We don't know for sure. - So why mention it?
It was a small incident, that's all, with a pen.
Thanks, Austen.
Now to shocking events that have actually happened
as we lift the whistle on drugs in the workplace
and show how employees at Shaftesbury's Jams in Colchester
use illegal high drugs on a daily basis.
(Woman) 'Shaftesbury's Jam has run at a profit since 1977.
Staff are encouraged to use cannabis, cocaine,
crack and heroin whenever they feel the need.
It's the weekly production meeting.
A new product, loganberry jam, is behind schedule.
(Man) There is a delay. It's a twofold problem, really.
I needed an indication from Marketing five weeks ago
about the jar shape we were going for.
If we'd had it then we'd only be a week behind but...
I've got a couple of points I'd like to make here...
Graham's lead times are way too long.
They're not my lead times, they're given to me by the company.
The company has used drugs to improve its performance
for the past 17 years.
(Man) That's holding us up. (2nd man) Exactly.
An hour later the drugs are speeding efficiency and decision-making.
Shirts are changed as old veins are damaged
and a small vomiting has taken place.
There's no conceivable way we can make a profit.
The only problem seems to be Matthew,
a new recruit from Spillers Dog Foods, who's inexperienced at crack.
He's beginning to suffer.
(Woman)..75 per cent fruit content. (Man) We have a prestigious product
but I must agree with Matthew on this point -
because of financial restraints our hands are tied.
What if the lids were berry-shaped?
- (Man) OK... - Berry-shaped lids.
We'll start at 70 per cent and then over a two-year period
- we'll decrease to 55 per cent. - (Hoarsely) 18 months.
(Woman) How can we do that? (Man) Restraints, I'm afraid.
(Hoarse mumbling)
(Man) No, we'll start at 70 per cent
and over a two-year period, we'll reduce to 55 per cent.
18 months.
No, I think two years has got to be the period.
18 months is too short a time.
Next business - apricots.
More jar trouble, Graham?
- (Sniffs) Uh, yeah. - I...
Er, they're breaking. It's the temperature control.
The jam's coming out a couple of degrees hotter than normal.
Er...we've got to work on the thermostat valves
- and it should be all right. - It's not the German...?
- (Grunts) - The machinery itself is fine.
In time, Matthew will learn his level.
With company profits still rising,
no one here will want to change the chemistry.
(Matthew howling outside)
Well, he married her!
Live now to that garage which should be raided any second.
Austen Tassletine, anything happened?
- 'Nothing. - No violence or stabbings?
- 'None at all, no. - What about those men?
- They're just buying some petrol. - Are you sure?
- Are you buying some petrol? - Yeah.
- Yes. - Thanks, Austen.
If that did turn into a shooting, then this is what it would look like.
Experts say that's what would happen.
- 'We hope so. - Oh, belt up!
I'm sitting opposite a man, he knows nothing.
The result is he's a trenchant buffoon who cannot present TV shows,
he looks ridiculous, he swans around hoping to be recognised
when no one's even remotely interested.
He's taken up enough time already and hasn't even opened his mouth
and for all I know he may be a cocoa-shunter too.
- Darcus Howe. - What's a cocoa-shunter?
That's... Sorry, that's the introduction to Robert Elms.
Sorry, I've just read out the introduction to Robert Elms.
She just caught fire, it wasn't my fault.
Back to our live cameras now.
Austen Tassletine is at that garage we expect to be raided.
- Any incidents yet? - Still nothing, Chris,
apart from a young seagull that seems to have broken into the booth.
(Man) 'Fucking bird!
In a few minutes: has even our sense of fair play been eroded?
Nous exposons the growing fashion for torturing golf caddies.
(Man) There's what they call a "tee sandwich".
They ask, "Do you want tee? "
and that means just 20-25 golf tees,
a mixture of wood and plastic, in two big hunks of bread.
And you're forced to eat that.
The broadcaster and entertainer Clive Anderson
has been shot dead by television host Noel Edmonds
at his house in Cornwall.
Police were prevented from entering the grounds
by machine-gun fire. Vivien Bansh reports.
The incident took place during dinner
when Mr Edmonds produced an automatic weapon
and began shooting indiscriminately.
One servant witnessed the bloodbath but escaped intact.
I came round the grounds, round the back way,
and then got through the fence.
(Man) Why has Edmonds done this?
No idea. He's never done it before.
(Bansh) 'An hour later, Edmonds appeared at a window
with blood on his face and threw a head onto the ground.
It is not known what happened to the other guests
but Edmonds is now on his roof with an armoury of precision weapons.
Less than half an hour ago, he fired a rocket-launcher
at a wedding party over a mile away.
The estate is now surrounded
but police fear he may take to the air in a helicopter gunship
and spread his massacre over hundreds of miles.
The world of show business has reacted with sadness and horror.
I just heard a rumour about it...
- I don't know what's happened. - Clive Anderson was shot.
- By who? Not... - Noel Edmonds, yeah.
What? No...
I'd say there's no excuse. None whatsoever.
And if Edmonds is still inside the house?
Well, just shoot him.
People like me, we're supposed to be rascals,
but it's your Edmonds, your Thomas Hamiltons,
your Hungerford guy, all so-called nice people.
- They ought to shoot him now? - Yes.
And there'll be an update at 11:30 after our next scheduled programme.
Coming up: can our decline be blamed on God?
This is the house of God. So where's the landlord?
It's infested with rot, I doubt if he's paid a visit in 20 years.
These people - they're just tenants in a dead man's shack!
That idiot pukes it out and they hoover it up like puppies.
Father, when did you last check your facts?
This book reads like the ramblings of a drugged horse.
The question: is God confused like his prating truth-pimps
or is He dead?
The Catholic Church is in turmoil
after an apparition claiming to be Christ
drunkenly cursed pilgrims at a holy site in Yugoslavia.
(Translator) 'He called us "fucking idiots".
(Presenter) Cardinal Hume was badly shaken
and issued what could be a resignation statement, saying:
Welcome back. I was about to read out this drivel
that you've been phoning in but we've been saved from that
because there has been an incident at that garage.
After the seagull, it got more dramatic.
Austen, what's happened?
Things have become completely exciting
because the ferocity of the seagull became very unpleasant
and the man panicked and started shooting at it with lighter fuel.
That's when I thought, "No!" because that garage...
And the burning bird landed by a man filling his car with petrol
and I found myself flying through a hedge.
The garage man produced an air pistol and started shooting at the bird
but instead he hit the man in the knee and the man, I think,
must have sprayed everything with petrol
because when the bird blew up the place went sky-high.
I've never seen any... I'm not sure if this is a true disaster
or a cross between an unpleasant event and a stupid one.
(Chris) Thank you.
This is the Frankie Fraser Madometer.
Right? So it's a "Low Miff" here and "Mad As A Lorry" up there
and all the stages in-between. Some examples, right.
Somebody gives you a bit of verbal GBH of the ear hole.
- Is that...is that low? - That's low, yeah.
OK, so that might go there.
Some Herbert's touching up your bird.
- Wouldn't like that, no. - OK. Fondled by a nonce.
Oh, he'd suffer for that.
OK, so that might be up here.
Being grassed up to the filth.
- That would have to go up here. - Right, OK.
I'm interested to see what happens now.
Reading about a pervert who interferes with kids.
If you had another one further along here...
- So that goes off the scale? - Yeah.
- Now... - Anything goes with them.
- Anything at all? - Anything.
You're being grassed up to the filth.
How would you feel if you'd accidentally grassed yourself?
Well, that's me own fault, isn't it?
So that would make you less mad?
If you grassed yourself, you'd have yourself to blame
- but how could you grass yourself? - You get drunk, give yourself away.
No way. You don't do that. It can't happen. We're too experienced.
- Were you ever not experienced? - No, never.
- You were born experienced? - I think so, yeah.
Whatever our state of decline,
there's no denying the power of miracles to focus hope.
Moss Staples has been to Ireland where he done this.
Ballakreen: rural, pastoral and peaceful.
The last notable event here was in 1792
when the nationalist Patrick Duggon
single-handedly besieged the British Army until it starved to death.
But for that, Ballakreen wouldn't bother a single map.
Or a guidebook. There's only one entry -
it's less than an inch long.
But all that's changed now because of that one.
Patricia O'Dennell, the local girl who says she saw the statue of Mary
driving a car through a field.
(Staples) Patricia, what does the statue do?
It...it kisses me
and...tells me everything will be all right with Daddy.
Two days later, Spike Durnaburny claimed
the statue had driven into his garage and asked for petrol.
I thought I heard her say very quietly "Fill 'er up." So I did.
She pulled a face. It went like this...
Villagers started incorporating the face into their prayers.
Amen.
Many say they hear the sound of roaring engines
or see smoke from the grotto exhaust pipe.
The driving statue has also brought pennies from heaven.
If you look for a doubt here, you won't find one here.
The proof for me is they found a white plaster powder
and then after sending it off for testing
the results came back and there's virgin DNA in the plaster.
No one takes it more seriously than Patricia's mother.
I suggested she might like to pray in the middle of the road
and that if she were to be killed by a car,
then the chances of her going to heaven would be higher.
(Staples) When you're in the road
do you think, "I want a car to hit me? "
Yes.
Kneeling girls! Statues driving cars!
What's going on?
Ten years ago a man was arrested here
for driving statues around in a car.
Was it him?
Not you, then?
He told us not. Could the priest explain it?
The car was driven on the right-hand side
which might indicate it's from the Holy Land.
No!
The most likely explanation is
that people are just seeing some blue light bouncing off a strut
but try telling that to these bog-brained Murphys.
You'd have more chance of getting a blow job from the Pope.
Just a moment to recap on the state of Britain.
Your calls have been described as "rabid", "pig-ignorant"
and "stultifyingly ill-informed."
Thanks for those.
Back to that exploded garage as there could still be an incident.
- Austen, will you stay there? - Yes, yes I will.
Good man. And we leave you tonight with a question.
As we approach the third millennium,
have we really come to this?
(Man moaning) Ooh. Oh, yes!
I'm afraid the answer is yes.
Good night.