Newsgroup: it.scienza.ambiente
Titolo: Re: MIKEY'S "SPIRIT" CD now available in special limited edition 1000  signed copies pre release form

In Oldspeak (or standard English) this might be rendered:
        The  reporting  of Big Brother's Order  for the Day in the Times of
December  3rd 1983 is extremely unsatisfactory and makes references to non-
existent  persons. Rewrite  it  in full  and submit  your  draft to  higher
authority before filing.
     Winston  read  through the offending  article. Big Brother's Order for
the  Day,  it seemed, had  been chiefly devoted to  praising the work of an
organization known as FFCC, which supplied cigarettes and other comforts to
the  sailors in  the  Floating  Fortresses. A  certain  Comrade Withers,  a
prominent  member of  the Inner  Party, had  been singled  out for  special
mention  and  awarded a decoration,  the Order of Conspicuous Merit, Second
Class.
     Three  months  later FFCC had  suddenly been dissolved with no reasons
given.  One could  assume  that  Withers and  his  associates  were now  in
disgrace, but there had been no report of the matter in the Press or on the
telescreen.  That  was to be  expected, since  it was unusual for political
offenders  to be  put on trial or even publicly denounced. The great purges
involving  thousands of people, with public trials of traitors and thought-
criminals  who  made abject confession  of their crimes and were afterwards
executed,  were  special show-pieces  not occurring oftener  than once in a
couple  of years. More commonly, people who had incurred the displeasure of
the  Party simply  disappeared and were never heard of again. One never had
the smallest clue as to what had happened to them. In some cases they might
not  even  be dead. Perhaps thirty  people personally known to Winston, not
counting his parents, had disappeared at one time or another.
     Winston  stroked his  nose gently  with a  paper-clip. In  the cubicle
across  the way  Comrade Tillotson was still crouching secretively over his
speakwrite.  He raised  his head for a moment: again the hosti

show astonishing intelligence in knowing when a human being is helpless.'
     There  was  an outburst of  squeals from the  cage. It seemed to reach
Winston  from far away.  The rats were fighting; they were trying to get at
each  other  through the partition. He  heard also a deep groan of despair.
That, too, seemed to come from outside himself.
     O'Brien  picked  up the cage, and,  as he did so, pressed something in
it.  There was a sharp click. Winston made a frantic effort to tear himself
loose  from the  chair. It was hopeless;  every part of him, even his head,
was held immovably. O'Brien moved the cage nearer. It was less than a metre
from Winston's face.
     'I  have  pressed the first  lever,' said O'Brien. 'You understand the
construction  of  this cage. The  mask will fit  over your head, leaving no
exit.  When I  press this other lever,  the door of the cage will slide up.
These starving brutes will shoot out of it like bullets. Have you ever seen
a  rat leap  through the  air? They  will  leap on  to your  face and  bore
straight  into it.  Sometimes they  attack the  eyes first.  Sometimes they
burrow through the cheeks and devour the tongue.'
     The  cage was nearer; it was closing in. Winston heard a succession of
shrill  cries which appeared to be occurring in the air above his head. But
he  fought  furiously against  his panic.  To think, to  think, even with a
split  second left  -- to think was  the only hope. Su