John Shrapnel credited as playing...
Psychiatrist
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: My grandfather was caught molesting a wallaby in a private zoo in 1919.
- Psychiatrist: A wallaby?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: It may have been a kangaroo. I'm not sure.
- Psychiatrist: You mean sexually?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: I suppose so. He had his hand in its pouch.
- Psychiatrist: Do you have trouble in getting an erection?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: What?
- Psychiatrist: Can you get an erection?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: Yes!
- Psychiatrist: Masturbating much?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: Constantly! I've got a talking boil on my neck! What would you do?
- Psychiatrist: Tell me about advertising. Now, you resigned from a very important firm with a very highly-paid job. I'd like to know your reasons.
- [Bagley doesn't answer]
- Psychiatrist: Well, at least try and give me an example of even one of those reasons.
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: All right. Reason 1: advertising conspires with Big Brother.
- Psychiatrist: And you're afraid of Big Brother? Someone or something coming into your life and telling you what to do?
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: No, I'm not afraid of him. I'm one of the few who really understands him. The man who conceived of Big Brother never knew what was coming down the line. Thought his filthy creation was gonna be watching us. But it is us who watch it. There's one in every living room. The montrous injustice of it is we stare at it of our own free will.
- Psychiatrist: So we could say principally that it's television that you blame.
- Denis Dimbleby Bagley: We can say entirely it is the crooks who've infiltrated it that I blame. They've moved in on the greatest means of communication since the wheel, and now they've done it their greed is insatiable. They're cutting down jungles to breed hamburgers, turning the whole world into a car park! They'd sell off the sea to satisfy the needs of their great god Greed! But it won't be satisfied, not til we're squatting in one of it's fucking hatchbacks on a motorway. But there isn't gonna be anywhere left to go, except in slow revolutions towards the crest of the next slag heap.