Propaganda

Reading this back to myself in cold light of day I am worried it might be a bit too OTT to be convincing.

A beautiful young mum accidentally discovers that not all the children of Nazi Propaganda Minister Josef Goebbels died in Hitler’s bunker when she stumbles upon a plot conceived by one of his Grandchildren to round up other innocent mums, just like her and place them in detention facilities, while selling their children for adoption.

Using his Grandfather’s old work notes (that stayed hidden with family when the diaries were found)  as a guideline:

  • he will convince the world that these women are victims in desperate need of rescue from terrible criminals
  • he will convince the world that these women are childlike, unworldly, feeble minded and incapable of independence
  • he will convince the world that they need sheltered accommodation and supported living.
  • he will create detention facilities to meet this need and net him at least €50,000 a year from the government for every woman he can “rescue”.
  • he will convince the world that such sadly disabled creatures cannot possibly raise children
  • he will start to use new constitutional loopholes to sell off their children for adoption to the highest bidder

But here is the true genius that he could only learn from Opa Josef’s notes:

  • To avoid these women being able to attract the kind of sympathy that might attract too close scrutiny of his methods or insist the women be allowed to speak for themselves he must apply the stick of fear as well as the carrot of sympathy. He must convince the world that, sadly, the  childlike minds of these women are so morally feeble that if they are not kept in strictly controlled conditions  they will otherwise resort to dealing in drugs, pandering children, etc and so forth.

What worries me is that I am not sure the part about one of Goebbels’ children surviving is very likely, and I cannot think of another way to explain how anyone would ever dream up anything so monstrous, let alone think they could get away with it and get rich.

All things conditional

I have a brilliant outline for a chapter…pure slapstick…

A couple of politicians…complete buffoons…combined IQ in double figures…but sly as a barrel of foxes…manage to find a way to force through a motion that, effectively, bars anyone who has ever disparaged their intellect and integrity from tendering for a vital research contract.

Of course this rules out everybody but their own mothers.

That is, until their mothers catch wind of what they have done…

Thickening the Plot

Well with little else to do lately I have been doing a lot of work.

I have a fabulous scene written that romps through as an allegory of the reality at the coal face of politics.

Don’t think this will be too much of a spoiler without the context.

Imagine an activist developing an ongoing dialogue with a charming, but ruthlessly ambitious politician. There is a kind of chemistry there, as well as an ongoing duel. They have a similar sense of humour and are on diametrically opposite sides.

She goes to mind her friend’s house nearer to his part of the country, and, out of the blue he turns up on the doorstep on her last afternoon.

Dot . Dot . Dot

…she even wonders aloud how on earth something could be so thoroughly wrong and yet feel, smell and taste so perfectly right.

The chapter closes with her driving home in a state of euphoria, longing to see him again, but also intending to bag and freeze his DNA in case it might be useful in future…

…after all, waste not, want not. :o)