1984 (1,7) At the Chestnut Tree Cafe

One thing that I do like about the Jones, Aaronson, and Rutherford story is that it takes us into the Chestnut Tree Cafe, for one reason why their story stuck in Winston’s mind is that he ran across them at that somewhat Bohemian den not long after their arrest and confessions. Although they were out and about, we know that this is the way that Big Brother plays with his enemies, like a cat with his ball of yarn. Winston understood: “They were corpses waiting to be sent back to the grave.”

The three men sat in their corner almost motionless, never speaking. Uncommanded, the waiter brought fresh glasses of gin. There was a chessboard on the table beside them, with the pieces set out, but no game started. And then, for perhaps half a minute in all, something happened to the telescreens. The tune that they were playing changed, and the tone of the music changed too. There came into it - but it was something hard to describe. It was a peculiar, cracked, braying, jeering note; in his mind Winston called it a yellow note. And then a voice from the telescreen was singing:

“Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me:
There lie they, and here lie we
Under the spreading chestnut tree.”

The three men never stirred. But when Winston glanced again at Rutherford’s ruinous face, he saw that his eyes were full of tears, And for the first time he noticed, with a kind of inward shudder, and yet not knowing at what he shuddered, that both Aaronson and Rutherford had broken noses.

Big Brother does have his sardonic sense of humor. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and doubtlessly makes its wielders rather demented.

1984 (1,7) At the Chestnut Tree Cafe

One thing that I do like about the Jones, Aaronson, and Rutherford story is that it takes us into the Chestnut Tree Cafe, for one reason why their story stuck in Winston’s mind is that he ran across them at that somewhat Bohemian den not long after their arrest and confessions. Although they were out and about, we know that this is the way that Big Brother plays with his enemies, like a cat with his ball of yarn. Winston understood: “They were corpses waiting to be sent back to the grave.”

The three men sat in their corner almost motionless, never speaking. Uncommanded, the waiter brought fresh glasses of gin. There was a chessboard on the table beside them, with the pieces set out, but no game started. And then, for perhaps half a minute in all, something happened to the telescreens. The tune that they were playing changed, and the tone of the music changed too. There came into it - but it was something hard to describe. It was a peculiar, cracked, braying, jeering note; in his mind Winston called it a yellow note. And then a voice from the telescreen was singing:

“Under the spreading chestnut tree
I sold you and you sold me:
There lie they, and here lie we
Under the spreading chestnut tree.”

The three men never stirred. But when Winston glanced again at Rutherford’s ruinous face, he saw that his eyes were full of tears, And for the first time he noticed, with a kind of inward shudder, and yet not knowing at what he shuddered, that both Aaronson and Rutherford had broken noses.

Big Brother does have his sardonic sense of humor. Absolute power corrupts absolutely and doubtlessly makes its wielders rather demented.

to remember how to rain

The sky is staying overcast longer this morning, like it is trying to remember how to rain and it almost has it.

to remember how to rain

The sky is staying overcast longer this morning, like it is trying to remember how to rain and it almost has it.

Derbyshire on the London Riots

A conservative Brit, who I think is living and working in America, has an interesting and dark reaction to the London riots. You would think that paople should understand that there is a cost when you insist on cheap labor, but the rich must have their extra millions and the middle class must have its lower prices.

If you cannot see other peoples as being like you, especially when they have this darker skin, then you should at least not seek to exploit them, but I take it this is apparently impossible.
_ _ _

Why does the British government not do its duty? Because it is the government of a modern Western nation, sunk like the rest of us in trembling, whimpering guilt over class and race.

Through British veins runs the poisonous fake idealism of “human rights” and “sensitivity,” of happy-clappy multicultural groveling and sick, weak, deracinated moral universalism — the rotten fruit of a debased, sentimentalized Christianity.

When not begging for forgiveness and chastisement from those who rightfully despise him, the modern Brit is lost in contemplation of his shiny new car or tweeting new gadget; or else he has given over all his attention to some vapid TV production or soccer team.

I treasure my faint, fading recollections of Britain when she was still, for a few years longer, a nation.

Today Britain is merely a place, a bazaar. Let it burn!

-- John Derbyshire

Derbyshire on the London Riots

A conservative Brit, who I think is living and working in America, has an interesting and dark reaction to the London riots. You would think that paople should understand that there is a cost when you insist on cheap labor, but the rich must have their extra millions and the middle class must have its lower prices.

If you cannot see other peoples as being like you, especially when they have this darker skin, then you should at least not seek to exploit them, but I take it this is apparently impossible.
_ _ _

Why does the British government not do its duty? Because it is the government of a modern Western nation, sunk like the rest of us in trembling, whimpering guilt over class and race.

Through British veins runs the poisonous fake idealism of “human rights” and “sensitivity,” of happy-clappy multicultural groveling and sick, weak, deracinated moral universalism — the rotten fruit of a debased, sentimentalized Christianity.

When not begging for forgiveness and chastisement from those who rightfully despise him, the modern Brit is lost in contemplation of his shiny new car or tweeting new gadget; or else he has given over all his attention to some vapid TV production or soccer team.

I treasure my faint, fading recollections of Britain when she was still, for a few years longer, a nation.

Today Britain is merely a place, a bazaar. Let it burn!

-- John Derbyshire

Jeremy Irons was right

See, Jeremy Irons was right. Any woman worth her salt can take care of 'the problem' without making a federal case out of it. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if this ended in hot, angry sex. All's well that ends well!

(Source: Tumblr)

Jeremy Irons was right

See, Jeremy Irons was right. Any woman worth her salt can take care of 'the problem' without making a federal case out of it. Frankly, I wouldn't be surprised if this ended in hot, angry sex. All's well that ends well!

(Source: Tumblr)

Adrianne Curry

This year, Comic Con is full of surprises. But that doesn't mean that there aren't limits.

Former 'American's Next Top Model' winner Adrianne Curry, apparently took things a little too far with her super sexy getup. Cops stopped the 'Playboy' cover girl as she tried to enter the festival for a signing. Despite her mind-blowing looks (and her barely-there costume), security insisted her outfit was too revealing. Well, the law is the law. She was asked to leave as soon as her signing was over.

Later Currey tweeted a geeked-out response to the incident that most certainly had Sci-Fi boys swooning, “Apparently the San Diego police are unfamiliar with a screen accurate version of Aeon Flux.”

-- ONTD



As with pop music, I really like women superheroes, more for themeselves and costuming than their song and story. In all fairness, I don't care for men pop stars and superheroes in the least.

More recently, the lovely Adrianne Curry celebrated her 29th birthday, and gave a sweet present to the public, or at least the male public, allowing a little bikini shoot.

( Bikini Thrill )

Adrianne Curry

This year, Comic Con is full of surprises. But that doesn't mean that there aren't limits.

Former 'American's Next Top Model' winner Adrianne Curry, apparently took things a little too far with her super sexy getup. Cops stopped the 'Playboy' cover girl as she tried to enter the festival for a signing. Despite her mind-blowing looks (and her barely-there costume), security insisted her outfit was too revealing. Well, the law is the law. She was asked to leave as soon as her signing was over.

Later Currey tweeted a geeked-out response to the incident that most certainly had Sci-Fi boys swooning, “Apparently the San Diego police are unfamiliar with a screen accurate version of Aeon Flux.”

-- ONTD



As with pop music, I really like women superheroes, more for themeselves and costuming than their song and story. In all fairness, I don't care for men pop stars and superheroes in the least.

More recently, the lovely Adrianne Curry celebrated her 29th birthday, and gave a sweet present to the public, or at least the male public, allowing a little bikini shoot.

( Bikini Thrill )