Confession Control

Charge Zone.

One of my friends, Lucian Sketch,  studies archeology and anthropology at university.

This used to be considered a complete drongo subject, a bit like geosophy and photon psychology; in these post-diluvian days, these are how we stay afloat.

At dinner the other night he regaled us with his latest project, which centred on mapping out the leylines across the seabed where, according to latest theory, our ancestors used to march up and down with banners and trumpets regaling the locals with fear, uncertainty and doubt about the next invasion of fruit-pickers, plumbers and care workers. Of course, we can blame them for the failure to have experts to fix our drains now, which is at least half the reason why the land is flooded.

Anyhow Lucian is working on the mysterious signs that are (despite being encrusted with oysters and barnacles, and heavily corroded) still legible, and embossed with the sinister phrase "Congestion Charge Zone".

He explains the very new thinking on what this was all about:

They had naively thought that the charge could refer to the surge in the brigades of pro-testers, against the anti-testers. The congestion charge zone signs indicated where this was permitted.but this hypothesis is now discounted as there don't appear to be any reason for why the signs appear where they do, and not at other more suitable places (e.g. on hills or near the other mysterious  Carp Arks (perhaps where fish were stored when more of the land was above sea level?).

There are now two competing camps with their own fit explanations:

Firstly, there is the notion that these indicate the places that brigands were arrested, and charged & sentenced to death at the next choke point - choke points are referred to in several old documents, and indeed, in one translation into french mentions the "Goulot d'Etranglement", which seems to support this idea.

The second, and rather outre idea is that the charge was something applied to people in the crowds in these zones as a means of control, to prevent them being kettled together like sardines. Lucian, who is not in this camp, still happily explains that the mechanism might work like the unpopular music of Van der Graff Generator, which when played back to each person would so afright them  that their hair would stick up on end, keeping them at a safe distance apart of no less than 2 yards.

We all found this rather fantastical, but quite interesting, as we passed around the Carp Fricassee.