1984 (2,5) Like a Damned Soul Grasping

Our doomed lovers savor their stolen happiness, knowing that it is only a matter of time before they lose everything. This is one of the reasons that I am inclined to think of “1984” as being a romantic novel, minus the happy ending, being informed by the reality that love does not conquer all, yet dramatizing that a little love may be worth sacrificing everything, even life, even though Orwell goes so far as have Big Brother get them to voluntarily and passionately renounce this love as well. You cannot really erase the past.

_ _ _

Both of them knew -- in a way, it was never out of their minds -- that what was now happening could not last long. There were times when the fact of impending death seemed as palpable as the bed they lay on, and they would cling together with a sort of despairing sensuality, like a damned soul grasping at his last morsel of pleasure when the clock is within five minutes of striking. But there were also times when they had the illusion not only of safety but of permanence. So long as they were actually in this room, they both felt, no harm could come to them. Getting there was difficult and dangerous, but the room itself was sanctuary. It was as when Winston had gazed into the heart of the paperweight, with the feeling that it would be possible to get inside that glassy world, and that once inside it time could be arrested. Often they gave themselves up to daydreams of escape. Their luck would hold indefinitely, and they would carry on their intrigue, just like this, for the remainder of their natural lives. Or Katharine would die, and by subtle manoeuvrings Winston and Julia would succeed in getting married. Or they would commit suicide together. Or they would disappear, alter themselves out of recognition, learn to speak with proletarian accents, get jobs in a factory and live out their lives undetected in a back-street. It was all nonsense, as they both knew. In reality there was no escape. Even the one plan that was practicable, suicide, they had no intention of carrying out. To hang on from day to day and from week to week, spinning out a present that had no future, seemed an unconquerable instinct, just as one's lungs will always draw the next breath so long as there is air available.

-- 1984

1984 (2,5) Like a Damned Soul Grasping

Our doomed lovers savor their stolen happiness, knowing that it is only a matter of time before they lose everything. This is one of the reasons that I am inclined to think of “1984” as being a romantic novel, minus the happy ending, being informed by the reality that love does not conquer all, yet dramatizing that a little love may be worth sacrificing everything, even life, even though Orwell goes so far as have Big Brother get them to voluntarily and passionately renounce this love as well. You cannot really erase the past.

_ _ _

Both of them knew -- in a way, it was never out of their minds -- that what was now happening could not last long. There were times when the fact of impending death seemed as palpable as the bed they lay on, and they would cling together with a sort of despairing sensuality, like a damned soul grasping at his last morsel of pleasure when the clock is within five minutes of striking. But there were also times when they had the illusion not only of safety but of permanence. So long as they were actually in this room, they both felt, no harm could come to them. Getting there was difficult and dangerous, but the room itself was sanctuary. It was as when Winston had gazed into the heart of the paperweight, with the feeling that it would be possible to get inside that glassy world, and that once inside it time could be arrested. Often they gave themselves up to daydreams of escape. Their luck would hold indefinitely, and they would carry on their intrigue, just like this, for the remainder of their natural lives. Or Katharine would die, and by subtle manoeuvrings Winston and Julia would succeed in getting married. Or they would commit suicide together. Or they would disappear, alter themselves out of recognition, learn to speak with proletarian accents, get jobs in a factory and live out their lives undetected in a back-street. It was all nonsense, as they both knew. In reality there was no escape. Even the one plan that was practicable, suicide, they had no intention of carrying out. To hang on from day to day and from week to week, spinning out a present that had no future, seemed an unconquerable instinct, just as one's lungs will always draw the next breath so long as there is air available.

-- 1984

Black Scorpion

While the rest of America watches the Superbowl, I break out the DVDs and watch episode eight of "Black Scorpion". That's just the way I roll, and haters are going to hate. This was also one of my favorite episodes, featuring Frank Gorshin as the guest super-villain Clockwise.

Gorshin, it may be recalled, played the Riddler on the classic Batman television series of my childhood. He died in 2005, so it looks like this may have been his last gig on TV. It is a masterful performance, helping to make "Black Scorpion" classic TV in its own right. Love those high-kicks!

Black Scorpion

While the rest of America watches the Superbowl, I break out the DVDs and watch episode eight of "Black Scorpion". That's just the way I roll, and haters are going to hate. This was also one of my favorite episodes, featuring Frank Gorshin as the guest super-villain Clockwise.

Gorshin, it may be recalled, played the Riddler on the classic Batman television series of my childhood. He died in 2005, so it looks like this may have been his last gig on TV. It is a masterful performance, helping to make "Black Scorpion" classic TV in its own right. Love those high-kicks!