I Need a New Book

This time, it's not even that I don't feel like writing; it's that I'm not really sure what I should write. I had an exceedingly fantastic day filled with encouraging words of different types, and I'd love to share all the details I can remember, but I don't want to gloat.

I suppose I can summarize vaguely:

• I was complimented at work.
• I have graciously been given a financial relief.

!!!

It's exciting stuff. I may perhaps talk more of it in the future.

For now, I plan to print Werbel and reacquaint myself with him. I'm quite excited about that.

I finished 1984. It did a fine job of identifying many dangers. The end seemed rather abrupt though. Winston simply gave up. I'm not at all bothered that he gave up; the miseries they poured upon him must have been all kinds of unbearable. However, the ending was too quiet if you will. He drank some gin, he was miserable, and he loved Big Brother. The Party had assimilated him, so I guess you could infer that The Party (since they had gotten the protagonist) would eventually have assimilated everyone, but that seems too simplistic. Maintaining that kind of control – despite their prescient tactics – would require too much poise. Worst case scenario, there'd eventually some large amount of violent murdering (not the quiet, contained murdering The Party was doing).

The only way The Party could have remained in power was if those who were in power remained devoted to The Party and not devoted to their own individual power. The Party relied so heavily on the individual's obsession with self-preservation; it would have to be the end of them eventually.

I'm not sure what book will replace it. Sherlock Holmes, as I said before, is definitely enjoyable but not as magical as I had imagined it would be. I'll probably have to finish him merely on principal. My next book might be A Praying Life. My next book might be some random lent novel. Who knows? It's a mystery!

For now, I'm going to drink water or chocolate milk. Ooh rah.