One Hundred Years On

An extract from the diary of a future Winston Smith 100 years after 1984

Today I despair! The women’s ‘War for Peace’ has finally triumphed. Eastasia and Eurasia have been lovingly absorbed into the new Globiana, and Big Mother, having ousted Big Brother, benignly rules. Meanwhile I spend my days dismantling disguised ‘memory holes’ in a futile search for the lost ‘oldspeak’ consigned to them by my late grandfather.

Newspeak is forgotten. Anything goes nowadays. The latest kids’ craze is ‘Claps-talk’ (collapsed or ‘clapst’ words and phrases: ‘praps’ instead of ‘perhaps’ and ‘snot’ instead of ‘it is not’). Big Mother accepts anything ‘as long as the kids are happy’.

‘Feelings-Facilitators’ have replaced the Thought Police. Those who cannot express their emotions risk hours of counselling in Room 202 or the prospect of futile jobs like mine attempting to retrieve the irretrievable. Only those who loved Big Brother with Granddad’s zeal could have buried the past so successfully. Rats to you, Granddad!