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Wishing for 1984

'War is Peace Freedom
is Slavery Ignorance 
is Strength Big Brother…'

is waiting for Godot who came quickly and travelled from Pyongyang to glorious
theoretical impossibility, but wait everything goes and now we are on to a winner. It
used to be lies, damn lies and statistics and it meta-morphed to fake news like 
Kafka’s insect, intersecting with ‘The Last Man in Europe’. 

'For after all how
do we know that two and two
make four or that the…'

force of gravity works on the mind, that does not care about much more than 
historical revisionism when the Taliban and Al Qaeda once were the good guys in the 
fight against Russia and ISIS fights with American guns. Oceania, Eurasia, Eastasia, 
no matter what and who against whom and never mind why.

'He who controls the
past controls the future he
who controls the pre…'

sent and in absentia of weapons of mass destruction, can always manufacture them 
from the Ministry of Truth and sink dystopia into a memory hole later. But when right
becomes wrong, opposition is duty and maybe a ton of ping pong balls with defiant 
messages written on them, from stairs in Pyongyang yet again to prevent, that if…

'you want a picture
of the future imagine
a boot stamping on…'

whatever is left of the face of the human, or yet again the ‘Last Man in Europe’, where 
happy endings loose out in Crimea and NATO descends like hell from the heavens, 
because no war is as good as a hot one. God forbid that somehow those guys in Syria, 
Lybia, Yemen and Sudan simply do not want to play the game any longer.

'If you want to keep
a secret you must also
hide it from yourself…'

But with double-plus-un-good, newspeak and few-speak in soundbites of a merry-go-
round of recrimination, leading the naked Emperor around the banana plant, that 
refuses to be a tree and to live in a forest. And that is fortuitous so there can’t be a
risk of deforestation but climate change and genocides are sadly denied with impunity.

'Orthodoxy means
not thinking – not needing to
think. Orthodoxy…'

is unconsciousness, knocked out with the full force on the Coma Scale, with an ear 
bitten of by George (Tyson not Orwell) and a couple of AK 47 blasts scraping the skull
for good measure. Individualism is thought crime, but what is really going on with 
accusations and refutations and total conjecture, but then power is …

'in tearing human
minds to pieces and putting
them together a…'

gain and aghast, afar and double thrice removed from the vicious thought, that 
thoughts are free. And that Winston and Julia can have a happy roll in the hay, 
when all territory is stacked up and staked on the maps, with a pen and a ruler, by a
ruler who has ruled me out long ago, because after all poetry is dangerous…

However, and quite seriously in quadruple, ironical jest and in tears and by cheeky comparison…

if the world was as
benign as Orwell’s novel
we might stand a chance…

28th March 1984 (2017)
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