There was a strong Gothic element to British TV output as well, with annual Ghost stories for Christmas (usually an MR James adaptation) and such downright strange shows as Dead of Night, The Stone Tape and Sapphire and Steel. This is a marvellous book that brought back countless memories (some that had probably been repressed with good reason), provoked several outbursts of laughter at inopportune moments, and reminded me of just how and why I fell in love with horror, SF and all things spooky. T here’s a terrible habit, when looking at the culture of a decade, to not go into any depth; it’s an easy task to just laugh at the fashions, or assume that referring to a handful of common references will cover it. She was allowed to stay at home thanks to a probably expensive lawyer while the other women did get jail time. Likewise, the racist TV programming is discussed, and thankfully, the authors acknowledge it was wrong then as it is now, whilst acknowledging that rather uncomfortably they were also very popular.

You see, everyone regardless of the circumstances and quality of their upbringing, has experienced their own very special and specific sort of kindertrauma. This progress was set against the backdrop of tabloid outrage and Mary Whitehouse raving about sex and violence. I was also lucky enough to inherit a bunch of old 2000AD from my uncles which kept me going for years. But the line between hatred and passion has never seemed so thin, and as secrets come to light, Sara grows unsure of whom she can trust—torn between vengeance and the villain she was never supposed to love.

Brotherstone and Lawrence also have a new weekly podcast which just started shortly before I finished reading this volume, and it's entertaining as hell if you've got time in your schedule for an hour of them (plus a guest or two) ruminating on the topic(s) of the day. It brings back the forgotten titles like the BBC’s 3-hour play Artemis 81; the Channel 4 sitcom They Came From Somewhere Else; the 1987 play The Gourmet by Kazuo Ishiguro.

Given the combination of the sort of boy I was and the environment in which I found myself, it was inevitable. The purpose of these was to ensure that the public stuck to the rules, through the visions of dread these short films created. Sarah does a wonderful job narrating and you can hear the emotion is her voice, especially when she is talking about Lauren. An actor’s exposé of her experiences in the NXIVM MLM Executive Success Program, which she looked into only after a solid endorsement from a trusted colleague.

I reflect that I am really careful with what my kids see and my attitudes are very different to what I could access at the same age. This is one woman’s account of how she got involved with NXIVM, her 12-year stint with the organization becoming one of the highest members of instructors and recruiters, how the organization took a dark turn and her blowing the whistle on what was happening before she got sucked further into the abyss. Sarah Edmondson's story is shocking and horrible, but also one of courage, inspiration, and empowerment. It was panic about rabies and despair about the Cold War, summers that were too hot and winters that were too cold, and strikes and power-cuts. There is part of me that when thinking about reviewing this book could easily just list all the contents and say 'get on with it'.

The most interesting chapter in this section, ‘How we Used To Live’, is a treasure trove (or chamber of horrors) of dated attitudes and clothing: to think now that a show like The Black and White Minstrels was even considered fit for broadcast, let alone that it was the powerhouse of the BBC prime time schedule for years is an extraordinary, shameful thing.And as with the 1970s volume, it’s not just the material which comes in neat little genre labels going under the microscope; TV can be frightening and disturbing just through how it presents the content or frames the material. The last half of the book got a lot more interesting and gave more details on how the organization fell apart. But this sort of hysteria ignores the real fears that British television was just reflecting back to its 80s audience: the fears of authority, disease, manipulation, poverty and desperation. I wanted to read this book because I have been fascinated with learning more about NXIVM since the story first broke.

Now, I thought I knew everything about NXIVM on the outside- but this gave the nitty gritty of how the "success program" turned sex-trafficking, human trafficking, racketeering cult worked, and how it became what it became.

The Rabies ones are interesting because in the 70's it seemed Britain was always under threat of rabies from overseas - except it was largely bollocks. I absolutely need to get hold of some of the more folkloric shows of the era like 'The Owl Service' and 'The Stone Tape' - they sound amazing. The section Scarred By Public Information Films is a wonderland of innocence and injury: individual ads and films are discussed, and it’s to the authors’ credit that they can demonstrate how the hysterical and laughable nature of many of these mini-horror movies sits happily cheek-by-jowl with a very real, completely unforgettable sense of sweaty unease and existential panic: the title of one sub-chapter, Everything Kills is perfect: in the world of the PIF, a rug on a polished wooden floor could be scarier than any chainsaw.