Intrusion

The technique of using pop culture or consumerism against itself is not a new one. But like any type of controversial act, there must be a starting point or watershed. In the United States, the events on a chilly Chicago night in November, 1987 appears to have set a bizarre standard.

To have the proper perspective of this event, the year of 1987 must be taken into account. The U.S. had been contending with the failing theory of “Trickle Down” economics. Crack cocaine had become a major problem in many cities, met with a police response that was simply not strong enough to match it. The Iran-Contra affair was still a fresh wound, and the Cold War with the Soviet Union was still a black specter hanging over the consciousness of the country. The “Me Generation” had come into being, as such, the 1980s as a whole are remembered as a time period of crass consumerism. In response, a genre of fiction known as “cyberpunk” became popular. Generally set in a near and dystopian future ruled by large corporations, corrupt governments, and saturated in high technology, Cyberpunk stories focused on individuals, often disenfranchised or disillusioned, throwing themselves at the world in an attempt to break down the metaphorical walls of an oppressive world.


One of the most commercially successful pieces of Cyberpunk was Max Headroom. Set in a future of dangerous, aggressive marketing and technology gone awry, the memories and psyche of an investigative journalist are loaded into a computer network. This entity, whose name forms the title of the series, assists freedom fighters with combating this repressive regime. In an irony seemingly lost on many companies (which, in hindsight, is wholly befitting of the 1980s,) the character and image of Max Headroom became associated with Coca-Cola products through a series of television advertisements.

Viewers of the Chicago, Illinois based WGN news broadcast at 9pm were surprised and disturbed to see the nightly sports highlights interrupted by a strange sight. A man wearing a latex rubber Max Headroom mask behaving wildly in front of a sheet of corrugated metal, accompanied by a loud, atonal buzzing noise. WGN engineers, realizing what was going on, changed transmitter, leaving anchorman Dan Roan flustered and perplexed on screen, saying “If you are wondering what just happened, so am I.” At 11:15pm, WTTW, another local Chicago station was struck. This time, audio as well as video came through. For 90 seconds, WTTW viewers watched again as “Max” again to act erratically, mocking Coca-Cola ad slogans, make strange comments regarding dirty gloves, and in a surreal turn, remove his pants to be spanked by an individual off-screen wielding a fly swatter.



This is not, however, the first act of T.V. broadcast piracy. In 1977, a ITN in England news update (which aired on British Southern Broadcasting station) had it’s audio pirated by an individual claiming to be an extraterrestrial who delivered a message claiming to be offering humans world peace and salvation. In 1986, an individual identifying himself as “Captain Midnight” broke through a HBO broadcast with a text complaining about HBO’s monthly prices.

The “Max Headroom Piracy Incident,” as it’s widely known, is exceedingly strange for a number of reasons. Previous signal pirates seemed to have some sort of purpose or message to be conveyed. “Max,” on the other hand, seemed to have little intention beyond hurling irrational insults at local TV stations, humming the theme to a cartoon show, taunting soft drink manufacturers, and to be publicly spanked. One could argue that the acts of the individuals responsible for this act foreshadowed groups such as The Cacophony Society (a band of pranksters from 1970s San Francisco) or Anonymous (Internet hackers, activists, and “trolls” who utilizes websites such as 4chan.)

The television series and adverts featuring Max Headroom have since faded into (no pun intended) virtual obscurity, and are generally relegated to nostalgia, effectively disappearing from the pop-cultural consciousness nearly as quickly as it arrived. There is an irony to the fact that someone using the visage of a character designed to satirize a highly technological world actually being outlived by a further bowdlerization of itself. To date, the persons responsible for the “Max Headroom Piracy Incident” have never been caught, nor has anyone come forward to claim responsibility.