Nineteen Eighty-Four

George Orwell is ... well, George Orwell. The man writes so well you can't help but admire the prose cos it flows like poetry. He hits each and every sentence with such weight that you are left with no option but to re-visit his books over again. Published in 1949, Nineteen Eighty-Four is so fuckin' futuristic that, for once, "relevant in these days too" seems quite true. Rarely have I read a book that is so damn close yet so far. Reading about doublethink and big brother you almost always think this stuff can be so future. Whenever I re-read 1984, each and every time, I feel that Winston will win his war. And each and every time he wins, but it's not his war. And each and every time I contemplate if this can be our future.

Now as I wait for V for Vendetta, its hitting screens (including IMAX) on 17th March, I go through many movies that show a demoralized, depressive and pessimistic vision of the future. Dark City, Equilibrium and many more like them seem to pick much of their future from George Orwell's mindfuck satire. I don't know if mindfuck typifies 1984 but that is how it always leaves me. Mind Fucked.