VI
Everyday, I sit in the Chestnut Tree cafe. I sit at my usual table in the corner and play chess with myself. i stare at the Big Brother poster in front of me and drink my gin. they released me from the Ministry of Love. I have my own life now. My own job, they even pay me better. I sit and drink the rest of my day away. Julia had once said that the Thought Police cannot get inside you. They can.
2+2=5
I saw her. i even talked with her. Some thing changed about her. She has a scar across her forehead and her waist is straightened. She is more quiet. She hates me. she said, "Sometimes they threaten you with something- something you can't stand up to, can't even think about. And then you say, 'Don't do it to me, do it to so- and- so.' And perhaps you might pretend, afterwards, that it was only a trick and that you just said it to make them stop and didn't really mean it. But that isn't true. At the time when it happens you do men it. You think there's no other way of saving yourself, and you're quite ready to save yourself that way. You want it to happen to the other person. You don't give a damn what they suffer. All you care about is yourself.'
Under the spreading chesnut tree
I sold you and you sold me...
I found out what kind of smile lies underneath Big Brother's mustache. A kind and loving smile.
I love Big Brother!
Sunday, April 25, 2010
IV
Weeks or months have passed. they have stopped beating me. I am being fed well. they think I am cured. But they have not touched my heart. my heart remains the same. I must keep it quiet so that they cannot hear it. my heart speaks the truth.
I have not betrayed Julia.
before the rats come to chew my face, i tell him to do it to Julia. I betray Julia. finally.
Weeks or months have passed. they have stopped beating me. I am being fed well. they think I am cured. But they have not touched my heart. my heart remains the same. I must keep it quiet so that they cannot hear it. my heart speaks the truth.
I have not betrayed Julia.
before the rats come to chew my face, i tell him to do it to Julia. I betray Julia. finally.
II
I have been beaten and tortured; my body broken down. I have been forced to give confessions both real and unreal. And threatened with more beating. I have remained sane.
i speak with O'Bien and he interrogates me while some white coat works over me. Overall, we have a pleasant discussion. Though what he speaks is the insanity of the Party. He says I do not believe in the truth. But I know I am right. I am sane and he insane.
I have been beaten and tortured; my body broken down. I have been forced to give confessions both real and unreal. And threatened with more beating. I have remained sane.
i speak with O'Bien and he interrogates me while some white coat works over me. Overall, we have a pleasant discussion. Though what he speaks is the insanity of the Party. He says I do not believe in the truth. But I know I am right. I am sane and he insane.
Book Three
I
I am in the Ministry of Love but where, I do not know. What time is it? there are no windows and they have not fed me since they arrested me.
I am in a high- ceilinged cell full of murmuring people. Some proles, and others members of the Party. The Proles talk and the Party members remain silent. I hear about a room 101. what is room 101?
i am moved to another cell. I am alone until Ampleforth comes. Something he allowed in a poem was wrong. he is sent to room 101. Parsons is arrested! the stupid man was caught by his own spying daughter and he is proud. The large man is strange and disgusting as he uses the lavatory and clogs it. he is later removed. Other prisoners are moved to the cell and simultaneously removed. I have pitty for the rat faced man. Disturbed by the starving man with hatred in his eyes.
They've got O'Brien! The guard beside him crushed my elbow with his blungeon. it goes black.
I am in the Ministry of Love but where, I do not know. What time is it? there are no windows and they have not fed me since they arrested me.
I am in a high- ceilinged cell full of murmuring people. Some proles, and others members of the Party. The Proles talk and the Party members remain silent. I hear about a room 101. what is room 101?
i am moved to another cell. I am alone until Ampleforth comes. Something he allowed in a poem was wrong. he is sent to room 101. Parsons is arrested! the stupid man was caught by his own spying daughter and he is proud. The large man is strange and disgusting as he uses the lavatory and clogs it. he is later removed. Other prisoners are moved to the cell and simultaneously removed. I have pitty for the rat faced man. Disturbed by the starving man with hatred in his eyes.
They've got O'Brien! The guard beside him crushed my elbow with his blungeon. it goes black.
X
The prole woman who sings outside our window everyday is beautiful. she is beautiful because despite the hardships of her life- she has persevered and remained exactly as herself. She is unchanging. A snippet of once was and should be that still exists. She is alive.
We are the dead...
It is finally happening!! They have come to arrest us. We die now. No!! They are beating Julia. Stop it! No, no! don;t crush the paperweight. How small and fragile the coral really is. It must be protected now that the glass is shattered. But is is crushed by a heavy boot. The boot of... Mr. Charington. Mr. Charington is a member of the Thought Police! And there was a telescreen behind the picture of the church all along!
No! No!
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
Here comes a chopper to chop off you head!
The prole woman who sings outside our window everyday is beautiful. she is beautiful because despite the hardships of her life- she has persevered and remained exactly as herself. She is unchanging. A snippet of once was and should be that still exists. She is alive.
We are the dead...
It is finally happening!! They have come to arrest us. We die now. No!! They are beating Julia. Stop it! No, no! don;t crush the paperweight. How small and fragile the coral really is. It must be protected now that the glass is shattered. But is is crushed by a heavy boot. The boot of... Mr. Charington. Mr. Charington is a member of the Thought Police! And there was a telescreen behind the picture of the church all along!
No! No!
Here comes a candle to light you to bed,
Here comes a chopper to chop off you head!
IX
I.Am.Exhausted. Worked ninety hours in five days. Sixth day into Hate week and we are no longer at war with Eurasia but instead, we are at war with Eastasia. Everyone in the Ministry of Truth had to fix the records. Oceania was at war with Eastasia and have always been at war with Eastasia.
Now, I nap and relax in the room above Mr. Charrington's. I have been reading The Book. It is amazing how analytical it is. The Book is now my way of life; my bible.
Julia is not as enthusiastic about The Book.
I know how Ingsoc is, but I want to know why Ingsoc is...
I.Am.Exhausted. Worked ninety hours in five days. Sixth day into Hate week and we are no longer at war with Eurasia but instead, we are at war with Eastasia. Everyone in the Ministry of Truth had to fix the records. Oceania was at war with Eastasia and have always been at war with Eastasia.
Now, I nap and relax in the room above Mr. Charrington's. I have been reading The Book. It is amazing how analytical it is. The Book is now my way of life; my bible.
Julia is not as enthusiastic about The Book.
I know how Ingsoc is, but I want to know why Ingsoc is...
VIII
We have done it! We have done it at last! Julia and I met at O'Brien's house and became members of the Brotherhood. the moment was more glorious than I had ever imagined! Everything is so organized and well thought out to the point where the Brotherhood can never be brought down. We are an unstoppable force that will finally bring the terrible reign of Big Brother to an end.
O'Brien is an extremely intelligent man. he will bring my life to peace. He gave me directions of how to receive The Book. The Book! I will finally be able to read The Book!
"We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness."
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's,
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey,
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch.
We have done it! We have done it at last! Julia and I met at O'Brien's house and became members of the Brotherhood. the moment was more glorious than I had ever imagined! Everything is so organized and well thought out to the point where the Brotherhood can never be brought down. We are an unstoppable force that will finally bring the terrible reign of Big Brother to an end.
O'Brien is an extremely intelligent man. he will bring my life to peace. He gave me directions of how to receive The Book. The Book! I will finally be able to read The Book!
"We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness."
Oranges and lemons, say the bells of St. Clement's,
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St. Martin's,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey,
When I grow rich, say the bells of Shoreditch.
VII
I dreamt of the vaporization of my mother. I had always assumed that in some way, I killed my mother. Only now do I realize that I was not the direct cause of hers and my little sister's death. Julia tried to console me on the matter.
The proles are human beings and we are not.
We've been lucky. it is only a matter of time before we will be caught. When the time comes we will confess. The Thought Police can make you say anything; but they cannot make you believe your confessions. They cannot get inside you. That is the only place where you are safe. "If you can feel that staying human is worth while, then you've beaten them.
I dreamt of the vaporization of my mother. I had always assumed that in some way, I killed my mother. Only now do I realize that I was not the direct cause of hers and my little sister's death. Julia tried to console me on the matter.
The proles are human beings and we are not.
We've been lucky. it is only a matter of time before we will be caught. When the time comes we will confess. The Thought Police can make you say anything; but they cannot make you believe your confessions. They cannot get inside you. That is the only place where you are safe. "If you can feel that staying human is worth while, then you've beaten them.
IV
We met in the room above Mr. Charington's junk shop. It is so risky to meet there but we did anyway. Julia went to the black market. She bought real sugar, not sacharrine and proper white bread. She also brought good jam and a tin of milk. it was amazing what she could get. She got real coffee. The stuff the Inner Party uses and so unlike the crummy Victory Coffee we get. She also bought real tea- not the blackberry leaves we use. She says that there is a lot of tea lately. Suppose we captured India.
She wore make up and scent like a real lady. In this room, we are no longer members of the Party. But instead, two lovers of a different time where there is no need to hide your emotions and thoughts.
I hate rats.
Oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements!
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St. Martins,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey-
The paperweight is Julia and I in this room caught forever in eternal bliss.
We met in the room above Mr. Charington's junk shop. It is so risky to meet there but we did anyway. Julia went to the black market. She bought real sugar, not sacharrine and proper white bread. She also brought good jam and a tin of milk. it was amazing what she could get. She got real coffee. The stuff the Inner Party uses and so unlike the crummy Victory Coffee we get. She also bought real tea- not the blackberry leaves we use. She says that there is a lot of tea lately. Suppose we captured India.
She wore make up and scent like a real lady. In this room, we are no longer members of the Party. But instead, two lovers of a different time where there is no need to hide your emotions and thoughts.
I hate rats.
Oranges and lemons say the bells of St. Clements!
You owe me three farthings, say the bells of St. Martins,
When will you pay me? say the bells of Old Bailey-
The paperweight is Julia and I in this room caught forever in eternal bliss.
II
We met today. I cannot recall a more happier day. Julia is the most corrupt and rebellious person I have ever encountered. And she is good at staying under the radar. She no longer scares me. I love her. And the more corrupt she is, the more I love her.
Our love is a blow struck against the Party. Our love is a political act. And for that, I love her.
We met today. I cannot recall a more happier day. Julia is the most corrupt and rebellious person I have ever encountered. And she is good at staying under the radar. She no longer scares me. I love her. And the more corrupt she is, the more I love her.
Our love is a blow struck against the Party. Our love is a political act. And for that, I love her.
BOOK TWO
I
She... loves me. The dark- haired girl says that she loves me. She is no spy, she is a rebel. She is not my enemy. Maybe, she is a member of the Brotherhood!
We will meet today at the monument at nineteen hours.
We will meet at a secret place in the country where there should be no cameras on sunday. there we can think freely and forget the Party.
She... loves me. The dark- haired girl says that she loves me. She is no spy, she is a rebel. She is not my enemy. Maybe, she is a member of the Brotherhood!
We will meet today at the monument at nineteen hours.
We will meet at a secret place in the country where there should be no cameras on sunday. there we can think freely and forget the Party.
She saw me. The dark-haired girl saw me. I was at an old junk shop exploring old trinkets and chatting with Mr. Charington. the store proprietor. I had bought a splendid little glass paperweight with a piece of coral encased inside. The interior of the weight seemed to be full of tiny droplets of rain, forever frozen in time. I was just walking away from the store when the girl saw me. She will turn me in that's what. She is either a thought police officer or an amateur spy and she will turn me in. Well I don't really think that she is a member of the thought police; she must be an amateur spy who will rat me out to the real Thought Police. They will come tonight and shoot me in the back of the neck. they always shoot you in the back of the head. they will come into the middle of the night and shoot me in the back of the head; that's what.
I should have chased after her. I should have followed her into an ally and smashed her head in with the blasted paperweight. That's what I should have done. Too bad I did not.
I should have chased after her. I should have followed her into an ally and smashed her head in with the blasted paperweight. That's what I should have done. Too bad I did not.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Book One
They cannot see me. I sit here writing thought crime and yet, they cannot see me. Not the Thought Police or the Police Patrol who snoop into other's windows by helicopter. No. Now one can see me. Not the telescreen, r the spies,- hah!not even Big Brother can see me writing the evils of this dictatorship on fine paper in ink.
No one can stop it. So I cannot stop writing. Writing about the Ministry of Truth with it lies, or the Ministry of Peace with is wars. About the Ministry of Plenty with its rations and the Ministry of Love with its hate and cruelty. Yes, it must be all written down. All of it, Big Brother, Ingsoc, doublethink, even Newspeak. All of it must be written because you must know. You must know that:
War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength
Thoughtcrime never causes death but instead, is death. I write to you as a dead man.
I write to you. Those who must read it and bear its burden of knowledge. I write to the future; to the unborn. To those whose lives are like my own and will not listen. To those of a better era and will read. I write to the listeners and the speakers alike. I write to... O'Brien and the Brotherhood. O'Brien. The man in my dream. I realize the significance of it now.
I was walking down a brightly lit corridor, not unlike the interior of the Ministry of Truth, and then passed through a dark room. There was a man sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. He was silent and still as a statue. It was only when I passed him that he uttered the fateful words. "We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness." But I had walked past him, with no interest. Only now do I realize that the voice belonged to O'Brien. And only later, did I know the meaning of those words. This dream happened seven years ago.
The Brotherhood will bring the end. The Brotherhood and Goldstein. Goldstein: the man who was once a great power, one of Big Brother's own. The man who denounces the dictatorship, demands immediate conclusion of peace, advocates freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of thought. The man seen in the Two Minutes Hate. The constant object of hatred for every member of the Party. The only real threat to Big Brother.
What was it like before the revolution? Was it better or worse? I try so hard to remember but it comes up murky and unclear like the water that drowns my mother and sister in my dreams. I wave asked an old man. A man of the proles; old enough to remember a time before the revolution. I was wandering through the streets of the proles. A place only slightly dangerous to dwell in. I saw the man at a pub. Seeing his age and exciting potential, I had bought the man a few liters of beer. Whenever I attempted to question the ancient about the past- he would utter gibberish. It has seemed as though the man has drunken away his brain, and in time, his very existence.
Hate. Hate is the very power which fuels the Party. It keeps every member in allegiance with the government. Hate rallies the love and devotion to Big Brother and his cruel ways. Everyone allows the injustices and removal of their rights because of their fear and hate. But, though the hate is focused on Emanuel Goldstien and which ever country we war against- the source from which this passionate emotion is a response to the Party and Big Brother. Control is key for Big Brother and various members of the Inner Party to remain in power. Control keeps Oceania together. The fear and hate persuades all members of the Party to believe in the superiority of this wretched country. These passions create the feeling of living in the best place in the world and preventing the revolution of any kind. Everyday, the rations are poorer in both quantity and quality. Everyday, rumors are spread and a lie becomes the truth. I see the past erased, smudged out into a state of nonexistence. I see the empty voids and pockets of history being filled with lies.
Who controls the past, controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.
The only persons not provoked or bothered with by the Thought Police and government are the Proles. The mass of the the Proles remain virtually untouched by the hate and misfortune created by Big Brother and his agents of justice. They are uneducated and therefore do not know their potential to fight and overthrow the long reign of Big Brother. They are a bomb, slowly ticking away. And I will watch and wait until the bomb explodes- leaving a scar in history that will change the world as we know it. Hope lies with the Proles.
DOUBLETHINK:
To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them, to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the Party was the guardian of democracy, to forget whatever it was necessary to forget, then to draw it back into memory against the moment when it was needed, and then promptly to forget it again, and above all, to apply the same process to the process itself- that was the ultimate subtlety: consciously to induce unconsciousness, and then, once again, to become unconscious of the act of hypnosis you had just performed. Even to understand the our "doublethink" involved the use of doublethink.
Soon, I will be vaporized. Mrs. Parsons from across the hall will be vaporized. In about two years, her children will turn her into the Thought Police and that will be the end of her. Syme will be vaporized for his intelligence. Though the man is loyal and will never turn against the Party, he will be vaporized. He is only too smart. Even O'Brien will be vaporized, despite his high ranking as an Inner Party member. Him and the Brotherhood will all be vaporized for their thoughts not so much their actions. When I look around, I can see the ones who will not survive within the next decade. Slowly, each of us will disappear into nonexistence. Any photograph will be burned. Every mention of our name will be smudged. Every engraving scratched out, no record of any of us can be found. Slowly, we will be forgotten by those who now drift around us. It will be as if we had never exist. Syme, Mrs. Parsons, and I will be vaporized from the face of the Earth.
yes, we will all be vaporized and only the fittest shall survive. Those like Parsons and the eyeless creature of a man with a quacking voice who was preaching the Party's ideas to anyone who will listen in the canteen. Him, Parsons, the little beetle- like men who scurry everywhere like the foul cockroaches they are, and the girl... The girl with the dark hair from the Fiction Department will never be vaporized. The mindless never will be vaporized.
Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus tow make four. if that is granted, all else follows.
They cannot see me. I sit here writing thought crime and yet, they cannot see me. Not the Thought Police or the Police Patrol who snoop into other's windows by helicopter. No. Now one can see me. Not the telescreen, r the spies,- hah!not even Big Brother can see me writing the evils of this dictatorship on fine paper in ink.
No one can stop it. So I cannot stop writing. Writing about the Ministry of Truth with it lies, or the Ministry of Peace with is wars. About the Ministry of Plenty with its rations and the Ministry of Love with its hate and cruelty. Yes, it must be all written down. All of it, Big Brother, Ingsoc, doublethink, even Newspeak. All of it must be written because you must know. You must know that:
War is Peace
Freedom is Slavery
Ignorance is Strength
Thoughtcrime never causes death but instead, is death. I write to you as a dead man.
I write to you. Those who must read it and bear its burden of knowledge. I write to the future; to the unborn. To those whose lives are like my own and will not listen. To those of a better era and will read. I write to the listeners and the speakers alike. I write to... O'Brien and the Brotherhood. O'Brien. The man in my dream. I realize the significance of it now.
I was walking down a brightly lit corridor, not unlike the interior of the Ministry of Truth, and then passed through a dark room. There was a man sitting on a chair in the middle of the room. He was silent and still as a statue. It was only when I passed him that he uttered the fateful words. "We shall meet in the place where there is no darkness." But I had walked past him, with no interest. Only now do I realize that the voice belonged to O'Brien. And only later, did I know the meaning of those words. This dream happened seven years ago.
The Brotherhood will bring the end. The Brotherhood and Goldstein. Goldstein: the man who was once a great power, one of Big Brother's own. The man who denounces the dictatorship, demands immediate conclusion of peace, advocates freedom of speech, freedom of assembly, freedom of thought. The man seen in the Two Minutes Hate. The constant object of hatred for every member of the Party. The only real threat to Big Brother.
What was it like before the revolution? Was it better or worse? I try so hard to remember but it comes up murky and unclear like the water that drowns my mother and sister in my dreams. I wave asked an old man. A man of the proles; old enough to remember a time before the revolution. I was wandering through the streets of the proles. A place only slightly dangerous to dwell in. I saw the man at a pub. Seeing his age and exciting potential, I had bought the man a few liters of beer. Whenever I attempted to question the ancient about the past- he would utter gibberish. It has seemed as though the man has drunken away his brain, and in time, his very existence.
Hate. Hate is the very power which fuels the Party. It keeps every member in allegiance with the government. Hate rallies the love and devotion to Big Brother and his cruel ways. Everyone allows the injustices and removal of their rights because of their fear and hate. But, though the hate is focused on Emanuel Goldstien and which ever country we war against- the source from which this passionate emotion is a response to the Party and Big Brother. Control is key for Big Brother and various members of the Inner Party to remain in power. Control keeps Oceania together. The fear and hate persuades all members of the Party to believe in the superiority of this wretched country. These passions create the feeling of living in the best place in the world and preventing the revolution of any kind. Everyday, the rations are poorer in both quantity and quality. Everyday, rumors are spread and a lie becomes the truth. I see the past erased, smudged out into a state of nonexistence. I see the empty voids and pockets of history being filled with lies.
Who controls the past, controls the future: who controls the present controls the past.
The only persons not provoked or bothered with by the Thought Police and government are the Proles. The mass of the the Proles remain virtually untouched by the hate and misfortune created by Big Brother and his agents of justice. They are uneducated and therefore do not know their potential to fight and overthrow the long reign of Big Brother. They are a bomb, slowly ticking away. And I will watch and wait until the bomb explodes- leaving a scar in history that will change the world as we know it. Hope lies with the Proles.
DOUBLETHINK:
To know and not to know, to be conscious of complete truthfulness while telling carefully constructed lies, knowing them to be contradictory and believing in both of them, to use logic against logic, to repudiate morality while laying claim to it, to believe that democracy was impossible and that the Party was the guardian of democracy, to forget whatever it was necessary to forget, then to draw it back into memory against the moment when it was needed, and then promptly to forget it again, and above all, to apply the same process to the process itself- that was the ultimate subtlety: consciously to induce unconsciousness, and then, once again, to become unconscious of the act of hypnosis you had just performed. Even to understand the our "doublethink" involved the use of doublethink.
Soon, I will be vaporized. Mrs. Parsons from across the hall will be vaporized. In about two years, her children will turn her into the Thought Police and that will be the end of her. Syme will be vaporized for his intelligence. Though the man is loyal and will never turn against the Party, he will be vaporized. He is only too smart. Even O'Brien will be vaporized, despite his high ranking as an Inner Party member. Him and the Brotherhood will all be vaporized for their thoughts not so much their actions. When I look around, I can see the ones who will not survive within the next decade. Slowly, each of us will disappear into nonexistence. Any photograph will be burned. Every mention of our name will be smudged. Every engraving scratched out, no record of any of us can be found. Slowly, we will be forgotten by those who now drift around us. It will be as if we had never exist. Syme, Mrs. Parsons, and I will be vaporized from the face of the Earth.
yes, we will all be vaporized and only the fittest shall survive. Those like Parsons and the eyeless creature of a man with a quacking voice who was preaching the Party's ideas to anyone who will listen in the canteen. Him, Parsons, the little beetle- like men who scurry everywhere like the foul cockroaches they are, and the girl... The girl with the dark hair from the Fiction Department will never be vaporized. The mindless never will be vaporized.
Freedom is the freedom to say that two plus tow make four. if that is granted, all else follows.
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