As O’Brien passed the telescreen a thought seemed to strike him. He stopped, turned aside and pressed a switch on the wall. There was a sharp snap. The voice had stopped. Julia uttered a tiny sound, a sort of squeak of surprise. Even in the midst of his panic, Winston… Read more »
John McClane: You know what you get for being a hero? Nothin’. You get shot at. You get a little pat on the back, blah, blah, blah, attaboy. You get divorced. Your wife can’t remember your last name. Your kids don’t want to talk to you. You get to eat… Read more »
Mrs O took a box of orgonite to the post office, yesterday, to mail to Eliud, who is gifting on the island of Zanzibar in Tanzania. A secret police officer arrested her for that and she’s in jail, now. I’ve advised the kikundi that they’re likely being surveilled around the… Read more »