Nineteen Eighty-Four

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This is our land.

A land of peace and of plenty.

A land of harmony and hope.

This is our land.

Oceania.

These are our people.

The workers. The striyers.

The builders.

These are our people.

The builders of our world,

struggling, fighting,

bleeding, dying.

On the streets of our cities

and on the far- flung battlefields,

fighting against the mutilation

of our hopes and dreams.

Who are they?

Traitorl Traitorl Traitorl Traitorl

They are the dark armies.

The dark, murdering armies

of Eurasia.

In the barren deserts of Africa and India.

On the oceans of Australasia,

courage, strength and youth

are sacrificed,

sacrificed to barbarians

whose only honour is atrocity.

But eyen as we grasp at yictory,

there is a cancer, an eyil tumour,

growing, spreading in our midst.

Shoutl Shoutl Shout out his name.

Goldstein! Goldstein!

Death! Death! Traitor!

Traitor!

Death!

Traitor!

Traitor! Traitor!

No! No!

"Innuendo" deleted.

"Intransigence" rendered as "Crimethink".

"Inyersion"...

Ref Times, 14l2l84, page three.

Byline two should read "Miniprod forecast

increase choco ration, April 1984,

from 20g to 25g per week. "

I confess to spreading the rumour

on orders from Goldstein

that the war is not really with Eurasia,

but with Eastasia.

And that for years, in fact

since the days of our glorious reyolution,

I had no faith in our future.

I forged goyernment announcements

and falsified figures

quoted for agricultural

and industrial production.

As a result of mental disturbance dating

from my experiences in the atomic wars,

I was a willing subject

of Goldstein's influence.

I was stubborn and egocentric.

When ownlife thoughts

occurred to me, I reyelled in them.

I went into the proletarian zones.

I had sex with prostitutes.

I deliberately contracted syphilis.

It was at this time

that I made contact with the Resistance.

I was personally contacted

by the arch-traitor Goldstein

and ordered to assassinate

Inner Party officials.

- Bugger!

- This I did.

My agents forged documents

and gained entry to the Ministry of Truth...

Thoughtcrime is death.

Thoughtcrime does not entail death.

Thoughtcrime is death.

I haye committed,

eyen before setting pen to paper,

the essential crime that contains

all others in itself.

...encouraging my agents to deface

party posters and announcements.

I read and memorised Goldstein's book.

For 30 years, I haye plotted

to bring down the Party.

I was sick in mind and body.

Together with my colleagues,

Aaronson and Rutherford,

I did counterfeit

important Party documents,

including ex-London permits

and trayel passes.

And that by use of these documents

my agents trayelled freely

throughout Airstrip One,

encouraging insurrection

and organising a huge counterplot

to destroy the innermost faction

of the Oceanian leadership.

Furthermore, I used my position

of priyilege within the Inner Party

to pervert and betray the truth at all times

and to suggest, whereyer possible,

that our traditional allies in Eastasia

were, in fact, our deadly enemies...

April 4th 1984.

I think.

To the past, or to the future,

to an age when thought is free.

From the age of Big Brother,

from the age of the Thought Police...

from a dead man,

greetings.

30-40 group, take your places, please.

Right, let's see which one of us

can touch his toes.

Right oyer from the hips,

brothers and sisters, please.

One, two.

One, two.

One, two.

One, two.

Smith. 6079 Smith W.

Yes, you. Bend lower.

You're not trying. Watch me.

There, brother, that's what I want.

Anyone under 45

is perfectly capable of touching his toes.

I'm 39 and I'ye had four children.

We don't all haye

the priyilege of fighting.

Remember our boys

on the Malabar front.

Just think what they haye to put up with.

- Morning, Smith.

- Parsons.

- Heard the rumour?

- No. Good news, is it?

I should say so, yes.

Choco rations going up.

- Really?

- 25g next week.

Doubleplus good, eh?

By the way, Smith, I seem to have run out

of razor blades for some reason.

You wouldn't happen to have any spare?

I'm sorry, brother, I'm on the last one.

In 1983, Oceania's

coal output reached 630 million tonnes.

In 1976,

coal output was 605 million tonnes,

an increase of 4. 1 per cent.

5.3 million tractors were produced,

an increase of 17.6 per cent.

I wanted to ask you

if you've got any razor blades.

I've tried all over the place. I've been

using the same one for six weeks.

Did you see the prisoners

hanged yesterday?

No, I was working.

But I shall see it on the screens.

We'll pick up a gin on the way.

I'll have two.

Give me a gin.

2.2 million 0.5 Victory

recoil-operated heayy machine guns,

6 million rifle grenades,

and 1.4 million lightweight

spigot-launching

antitank rocket projectors.

Food production is also up...

- How's the Newspeak Committee?

- Working overtime.

The plusbig wastage is in adjectives.

Plusbig problem is timing the language

to scientific advance.

Yes.

It's a beautiful thing,

the destruction of words.

You won't have seen

the dictionary tenth edition yet, Smith.

It's that thick.

The 11th edition will be that thick.

So the revolution will be complete

when the language is perfect?

The secret is to move from translation

to direct thought to automatic response.

- Language coming from here not here.

- Excuse me for intruding.

We shall be rid of Goldsteinism

when the language has been cleaned.

I couldn't be more in agreement

with you, brother. Absolutely.

Praise be to our leader

and the Party workers.

Other munitions production figures

are as follows.

70,000 M-20 tank destroyers

with 76 mm cannon,...

Smith. Syme.

It's encouraging that by 2050

not a single person

could have a conversation like this.

- Except the proles.

- Proletariat don't count. They're animals.

Did you see the hanging?

Missed it myself.

Bloody committees!

...heayy Victory

rocket bombs.

35,000 Black Eagle

Doubleplus good, this.

Do you know, I don't think

there is a single piece of meat in this stew.

Looks like meat, tastes like meat.

It isn't meat at all.

Doubleplus good.

- Not like it, Smith?

- Yes. It's too rich for me.

D'you mind if I?

Brothers and sisters,

the battle for production has been won.

Completed returns show that the standard

of liying has risen by 20 per cent

oyer the last year.

All oyer Oceania, spontaneous

demonstrations of Party workers

haye been yoicing their gratitude and joy.

In honour of this massiye oyerfulfilment

of the ninth Three-Year Plan,

it has been announced that the chocolate

ration is to be increased to 25g per week.

If there is hope,

it lies in the proles.

If they were conscious of their strength,

they would haye no need to conspire.

History does not matter to them.

It was three years ago,

on a dark eyening,

easy to slip the patrols,

and I'd gone into the proletarian areas.

There was no one else in the street

and no telescreens.

Two dollars.

She said "Two dollars. "

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