Stepping off the lift onto his floor, Franklin was careful to walk as quietly as possible, in an attempt to not tip off Mrs. Johnston's two children to the fact that he was home from work early. Flashing the barcode tattooed on the inside of his wrist toward the door handle, Franklin waited impatiently for the electronic lock to release. The door would emit a little confirmation 'beep' when the lock had verified his identity, something Franklin was praying his neighbors wouldn't hear. While Mrs. Johnson might overlook the situation, her kids would not be as nice. Simply being home early was reason enough to call Security Services. Actually, to most of the children, anything was reason enough.
Entering his small, dark flat, Franklin tiptoed into the kitchen and turned on the light above the stove. Though it was still afternoon, Franklin's apartment was darker than he'd expected, with hardly any light coming in from the winter grayness outside. While he wanted to turn on the ceiling light in the kitchen, he decided the stove was likely a better option as it wouldn't be as noticeable to little eyes trying to peer in his apartment from the hallway, via the crack at the base of his door.
Franklin wished he could turn off the monitor hanging on his living room wall, though there was no way to even alter the volume, let alone shut the thing off completely. Thankfully the noise would automatically lower slightly at night, but from 8:00 AM to midnight, the thing rattled on. He wondered if a SSIO was hiding in his apartment right now and considered looking around, but then decided that if he just stayed in the kitchen, at least he might be able to see the SSIO agent attempting to sneak up on him. If there wasn't an SSIO in Franklin's place already, he figured they must at least know he was home - through the wall monitor - and might just come en masse. It was rare for a large gang of Security Service agents to show up during day and apprehend a suspect, but once in a while it happened. Plausibly, they could also simply be waiting until nightfall too, giving Franklin a small window of time this evening...to commit suicide. He wondered if sometimes when Security Services knew the suspect knew Security Services suspected the suspect of being a suspect, though he, or she were truly innocent, they would give the suspect enough time to do the job him, or herself. Perhaps that was their way of being sympathetic.
Franklin dumped his laptop and handheld onto the counter to the side of the stove and then returned his right hand to his pocket, fishing out the silver turtle. Holding the shiny thing up in his palm, he examined it with curiosity. 'Patience,' he thought, 'it's all about patience, this life.' Speaking of patience, Franklin was very surprised to see that the message light on his phone wasn't blinking. Penn had never called to check in on him, which Franklin figured was because the whole day had been a setup anyway.
Stepping out of his shoes, Franklin set the turtle on the stove, and leaning over, used the oven as a prop while he tossed his shoes to the ground by the sink. As he walked into the dining area, he grabbed one of his dining chairs by the collar, bringing it back into the kitchen. Because the winter sky was emitting barely any light, Franklin was going to have to sit right next to the stove, if he was going to read his stolen treasure.
Sitting, Franklin reached his hands up to his face, fingers stretched towards the ceiling, gently resting his palms over his eyes. Exhaling, Franklin allowed his hands to slowly slide down his face, falling away to rest on his lap. He tilted his head back for a moment, while closing his eyes in an attempt to find a moment of sanity within the storm.
"I didn't think it would end like this," Franklin mumbled aloud softly. He hated to think that his life had come to this dismal moment, shared only with the turtle, the stove and the book.
Leaning slightly forward in the chair, Franklin reached around his back and removed the small paperback book still wedged in his waistline. The title, shining ever so slightly in the calm light of the stove, somehow made him feel a little more at ease.
Franklin took in the book's brilliance...
Slowly, the contents of the book edged into his memory. This was a beautiful treasure, buried in modern time. Franklin immediately concluded that if this were to be his last night on earth, Orwell would be a magnificent friend to spend it with.
Flipping through the first few pages the book landed on page three, with Franklin's eyes immediately falling on the text half way down the page.
Copyright, 1949, by Harcourt, Brace and Company, Inc.
Afterward ©1961 by The New American Library of World Literature, Inc.
Franklin paused in adulation of the moment, deeply exhaling while a wave of peacefulness flowed through his tired bones. The Universe had presented Franklin with a beautiful gift in his final moments on earth. Franklin had been bequeathed with more than words on paper; it was a symbol of freedom, liberty, and hope for humanity.
Franklin wondered if he was holding the last remaining copy in the entire world, printed 85 years ago. Despite its age, the book was in considerably good shape, though the paper had become slightly brittle through the years.
With the spine now resting in the palm of his left hand, Franklin flipped through the book with his thumb. Just as his feet had unconsciously guided him to the junk store earlier in the day, his thumb seemed to stop at a predetermined page, on its own accord. Using both hands to hold open the book, Franklin leaned a little closer into the light.
The book was open to Page 32, where Franklin began reading:
For whatever reason, Franklin hesitated on the very first word for a moment:
Franklin paused for a moment, before continuing:
For a moment, the words were like gibberish to Franklin, forcing him to read the passage twice. He concluded that his inability to immediately process Orwell's words was because he'd been trained like a dog to reject them, even though society was living in their reality today. The wars, the fear, the starvation at the Great Walls, the constant economic crisis and the never-ending terrorist threats lurking... The monitors never shut off and the fear-based propaganda never ceased rolling. The Corporation knew that it must keep the people's perception of reality suspended in an artificial state of fear, so as to deceive them into thinking that The Corporation was actually making their lives better. The people must not only think - but also believe - that outside The Corporation's borders, the world was a dark and unjust hell, filled with terrorists, starvation, poverty, and dismay. The people must believe, unquestioningly, any and all actions of The Corporation, even contrary to common sense, were only made on behalf of the employee's well-being.
Franklin burst into laughter realizing how right Orwell was!
Here, now, today... in 2034, there was no mention of the past, especially about the historical allies that The Corporation now branded as terrorists. It was as if time had completely reset with The Corporation's birth in December of 2012. The people brought The Corporation to life by voting for SEESOC ruse and in doing so, unconsciously allowed history to be completely rewritten as The Corporation saw fit. There would be no questioning by the people of how the facts had been changed. Questioning at all, meant every individual who bought into the fear-propaganda and the 'bigger Government is good for you' lies would be forced to deal with the reality that they were nothing more than gullible sheep, used like pawns in a larger game.
Regardless, to make certain the employees would never have a moment of clarity, The Corporation made sure to continue daily with a regular regimen of fear-propaganda, just to be on the safe side.
Franklin reached into the depths of his memory, seeking flashes of history he'd buried and forgotten long ago. He vaguely remembered something about U.S. Government and CIA training the Taliban to help take on a Northern European enemy, before September 11. He wondered if terrorists wore tee shirts with slogans bearing:
Made in the U.S.A.
Franklin realized Orwell's perception of how dystopian societies justify their existence was true. Those in power rewrite history, never admitting they were really the true creators of, or major contributors to the global chaos. Much like an alcoholic will never admit his drinking is the true catalyst for all surrounding problems, and will instead hold the world at fault instead, Armed Forces and Politicians in shiny suits - drunk on power - are no better than a despicable wino.
Sadly, 'justification' required credulously forgetting the real facts of history, twisting the information so one would consciously accept the lies told in the present.
In essence, The Corporation had ended history and restarted time with its inception on December 21, 2012.
The absolution of history, in the name of control, fear, greed, and power, was required to guide the future. The politicians, diplomats, media pundits and Corporate heads all worked in unison to dissolve the past, which the masses simply accepted without question.
Franklin took in the precious words one more time:
"Whatever was true now was true from everlasting and everlasting. It was quite simple. All that was needed was an unending series of victories over your own memory. 'Reality control,' they called it; in Newspeak, 'doublethink.'"
Franklin gasped at the term 'doublethink.' He fully understood what it meant. He decided, however, that the term from Orwell's book was no longer applied correctly. Like evolution, doublethink had evolved. Today's truth was true from everlasting and everlasting, with the public's perception of The Corporation having anything to do with freedom as a perfect example. However, doublethink had taken on another facet since Orwell. 'Doublethink' was acceptance of today's perception of history as everlasting, but The Corporation had trained the people to also blindly, and unquestioningly, accept tomorrow's restructuring of today as well. The Corporation manifested this evolution through media long, long ago. People have always had, and will always have, a particular interest in the lives of celebrities. After all, these few - upheld by society as glorious - stood for everything materialistic, coveted and desired. The media took particular pleasure creating many of these icons throughout the years. The celebrities were birthed through a 'snowball effect' of media coverage and paparazzi, who like a school of sharks circling fresh prey, quickly found great interest in the 'newest' and 'next' star. In essence, the media would open the door for the masses to fall in love with the public personality. Then, just when the masses loved that particular person the most, the media would turn tide and rip that same person into nothing. The occurrence served two purposes:
1. Creating the celebrity would require the masses to first have some sort of 'emotional connection.' For a person to admire another, an 'emotional bond' has to occur with the personality, or image the celebrity is presenting. Admiring another is more than a simple decision such as turn left, or right. Admiration is not derived from a utilitarian means; rather, admiration is based on an emotional connection. Thus, creating celebrities - via media - meant that the media had actually begun to control the emotions of the masses, using the emotion of admiration as the gateway.
2. As quickly as the media created the celebrity, an abrupt about face then transpired. Sometimes the event occurred out of nowhere and sometimes based on a personal or legal misstep by the celebrity. The public's perception of the celebrity would then turn from admiration to condemnation. In essence, the media had figured out that it was actually able to manipulate the emotions of people, by creating celebrities it knew the people would fall in love with and then manipulatively telling the people to change their minds and feelings about the very same celebrity the media had just created.
In this new evolution of doublethink, the media wasn't just changing the perception of the past, it had created a new society of people who were prepared to think and feel whatever the media, Government, and The Corporation wanted tomorrow.
The people had been brainwashed and they didn't even know it. Like mindless zombies, the masses were not only acting out whatever dogma they were told today, but would continue to do so tomorrow, even if the actions were opposite of what the individual believed yesterday.
Doublethink had evolved into MediaThink and was one of the main reasons The Corporation was able to dupe the people into handing over their freedom. The bulk of the public had been trained like Chimpanzees to think, feel and believe whatever the media wanted them to. This applied not only to the past, but to the present day as well. Sadly, the collective robotic general public would also believe whatever the media wanted tomorrow as well. Really, MediaThink was one of the main vehicles The Corporation used to manipulate the people into becoming nothing more than mindless slaves.
Common sense proved that the masses had become nothing more than brainless, judgmental hypocrites, willing to accept lies as truth, so long as the lies were trendy.
The media of the New Millennium had become well aware that it could use people's emotions to not only control what they thought, but what they believed as truth as well. Sadly, the anchors, reporters, pundits and personalities who delivered the propaganda daily, were nothing more than foolhardy puppets too, even though most believed they were personally above the larger paradigm at foot. The Corporation had bought their minds with money and fame, and now they were simply infecting the public with the same manipulation.
'All those media pundits who thought they were intellectually superior,' Franklin thought, 'were really just doing exactly what The Corporation wanted all along.'
Franklin felt exhausted. After blankly staring at the kitchen floor for a moment, Franklin stood up and went into his bedroom. If there was a SSIO torturer hiding in there, 'Then so be it,' Franklin concluded.
Lying on his back, he couldn't remember his bed ever feeling more comfortable. He had brought the book into the bedroom with him, and it was now lying open, face down on his chest. Franklin closed his eyes for a moment, reminding himself to not fall asleep; he still needed to commit suicide before Security Services arrived.
ENDNOTES
1.
Orwell, George. 1984. Harcourt, Brace and Company, Inc.
New York, New York, 1949. Page 32
2.
Made in the U.S.A. - How the U.S. Manufactures Terrorists, Scott, Peter.
New America Media. Sep 19, 2001
http://news.pacificnews.org/news/view_article.html?article_id=ef9e5d2b80208d9b52a9ceed585098d1
3.
Orwell, George. 1984. Harcourt, Brace and Company, Inc.
New York, New York, 1949. Page 32
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