XXX Factor No Longer What It Was

News reaches us today that producers of pornographic films are asking for their work to be reclassified by the British Board of Film Censors (BBFC).

“Put simply,” an industry insider told us today, “the letter X no longer seems to give people the idea of something exceptional, extreme or dangerous. It’s as though the very essence of its sense has been somehow cheapened. We’re at a loss to explain it.”

Apparently sales of X rated films have been in steady decline since 2004, although pornographers are confounded as to why. This Nuse reporter spoke to a BBFC representative to try to get a feel for the mood of the market.

“Well,” said Miss Honor Eposition, “we have some sympathy for this request, to be honest, because the letter X, which used to suggest something a bit saucy, now seems to be associated with utter mundanity. Indeed, since the launch of certain contemporary television programmes, the letter X seems to just suggest something bland, mundane and passionless in most people’s minds – the concept of mere paid actors who are just going through the motions without actually feeling anything. With a sound-track dubbed on afterwards…” She hesitated for a moment.

“Actually, maybe we’ll just leave things the way they are.”

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eXcavation Factor

An archaeological dig in Mexico has revealed surprising though somewhat predictable evidence regarding the collapse of the ancient Mayan civilisation. Researchers were initially surprised and then increasingly alarmed at what their excavations gradually exposed. This Nuse reporter took a flight out to speak with the team.

“We were digging in an undisturbed site where nothing has grown on the barren landscape in human memory,” said Doug Daily, the chief archaeologist. “We tried to speak to the locals before we began but we couldn’t find them. There simply weren’t any. It was as if some tribal herd-instinct had stopped people from going anywhere near. We couldn’t even find anyone who would acknowledge the existence of the area where we wanted to explore.”

He paused, a haunted look crossing his face, and then continued. “Our initial evidence from satellite photographic images suggested that some kind of a ring had sunk into the earth here and that the desert had simply closed over it. It took many weeks of painstaking scraping before we revealed a massive submerged arena containing tiered rows of hundreds of seats set facing a raised dais, upon which we found a stone desk with four chairs at one side and, on the other, a single podium.”

Rowan Danround, Professor of History Repeating Itself at Peterborough Polyversity, continued the story in a subdued tone. “Early analysis of the skeletal evidence indicates that the audience was jam-packed with humanoids with rather unusual skull abnormalities, suggestive of intense inbreeding and associated brain malformation. The stage, meanwhile, gave up five very badly burnt figures attired in layers of superficially attractive chains and jewellery which, under closer examination, turned out just to be worthless shiny tat.” He shrugged. “We tried to find geological causes for the travesty that occurred here but there is nothing. It seems likely that some kind of contest or trial was in progress when the Earth, with an unprecedented and almost inconceivable violence seemingly directed with pure malevolence at the very life forms she had given birth to, just opened up and swallowed the whole spectacle.”

He turned to the storm-darkening skies above and his voice lowered to a whisper. “We also found some stone tablets with ornate carvings upon them.” His eyes set upon me in a fixed stare and a mask of terror drew across his face. “Intricate markings, they were, formulaic and repetitive. It looked like… like music, I tell you. Music!”