Winston
Ag@whd
weeks now he had suffered in silence, not daring to complain to the
Ministry of Health. To do so would mean almost certain terror in
it's corridors... endless waits, endless form filling, endless
excuses. Only the rich, Tory Party members and their friends got
treatment these days; they deserved it, the argument went, they work
_so_ hard.
Winston worked in the Ministry of Truth, or BBC as it was now known
in 'Newspeak'. Newspeak was the official language of Britannia, and
its aim was to restrict the range of thought possible by its
citizens. Now, the word BBC was simply a dull, faceless abbreviation
and inspired none of the former emotions of awe, pleasure and
inspiration.
It has been a typically hard day in the Ministry. Winston worked on
a top secret project, codenamed BBCNC. Few people knew much about
it, including those who were directly involved. In fact, it was
rumoured, no ordinary Ministry member knew the eventual direction or
purpose of the whole thing.
Winston opened his door and was met by a horrific stench of
decomposing food and human waste. It was only a week ago that
Winston had had his water supply cut off due to an administrative
error, but already he was suffering from a strange lethargy.
He flicked on his Ministry of Truth Telescreen. It burst into life
and proceeded to spurt forth a stream of figures and statistics.
"Unemployment down 20%", said the announcer. "Recovery now in full
swing" "Health care improves dramatically" "Things have never been
better than under Labour"
Winston shook his head, trying to extract from his tired mind some
memory of previous propaganda. Surely it was only a few short months
ago that the Ministry of Truth was siding with the Tory-ists... now
New Labour. It was all to much; Winston sunk his head into his
hands.
Suddenly a fanfare sounded. "Attention Comrades", said a loud voice
as the screen glowed with a huge round globe, symbolising the
encompassing power of the BBC. "Attention! Good news. The Ministry
of Truth has been awarded a new ten year plan, thanks to the
incredible progress made in the last few years."
The screen darkened. Winston braced himself for the inevitable. To
control minds inevitably meant destroying them, and this was the way
it would be carried out. Suddenly a horrible voice rang out, singing
a song which could only have been generated by a synthetic being.
"Neighbours", went the song, "Everybody needs good neighbours."
Winstons hands tightened on his chair; the veins in his brow stood
out. Twenty minutes of the brain wasting exercise, something which
every Ministry member was obliged to take part in.
Then, as quickly as it had started, it was all over. "This is the
BBC", said a voice. "And now the news." The screen filled with an
image of a man. A dull man; a quiet man. After the mind torture
he seemed somehow safe, somehow dependable. The voice continued,
its tone softening somewhat.
"Everything is fine. Ignore your senses! Use Doublethink! The
country has never been better, and is improving with every day."
Winston looked at the caring face on screen. How could he come to
any harm now? He sighed. Suddenly he knew it was true. He loved the
BBC. He loved Big Brother. And he loved Mr Blair.
Adrian
WWW WWW Adrian Gothard
WWW ww WWW White Horse Design
WWWWWWWWWW
WWWW WWWW w...@zetnet.co.uk, http://www.users.zetnet.co.uk/whd
---
Designers of video capture/filter/processing systems for aircraft