100 Days of Orwellian Tweets
It was a bright cold day in May, and the clocks were striking thirteen. I've decided to return for 100 days. The writing starts today.
The Ministry of Love welcomed the foreign delegation. The US Commerce Secretary witnessed not a single hint of a protester in Saudi Arabia.
Comrades, do you know who is responsible for this? Do you know the enemy who has come in the night and overthrown our windmill? The Fox did.
The truth-seeker aggressively self-body-slammed breaking his glasses when politely asked to leave the campaign meeting. maladroit, rectify.
The words ran along the bottom of the telescreen. The Eurasians are bad, really bad. BAD AND SAD. #ifitstuesdaythismustbebelgium
Confusion reigned. Had Frederick been talking to Napoleon or had Napoleon been talking to Pilkington? Terrible stories leaked.
The world was getting colder. He knew because he'd seen it snow. Children can be taught crimestop. Even in a democracy. #climateaccord
He seemed to know that to rule he needed to dislocate the sense of reality, much as others before had done. But that required competence.
It was a quiet day. Winter loomed. Only the monotonous, inane tweets of the so-called leader disturbed the people's work and leisure time.
Millions followed the leader loyally and remained curiously silent as the chaos and disorder continued. Faceless, lifeless, silent. Bots.
Words meant everything or nothing. Many even asked were they truly words at all, or the only the random product of a feeble mind or machine.
A fourth power seemed set to join Eurasia, Oceania and Eastasia. Ignoramia, a bigly land with a leader who prized superstition over reason.
People once thought a sign of madness was belief the earth goes round the sun, or that the past was unalterable. But at least they thought.
The leader of airstrip one trembled. It was not meant to be like this.The manifesto to exclude foreigners was meant to perpetuate authority.
Napoleon decreed that their should be a full investigation into Snowball's activities. But one brave pig commended Snowball for his actions.
The leader welcomed the spontaneous demonstration praising his work in making the farm great again. However, few sheep attended this time.
How could you tell how much of it was lies? A question I've asked before and ask again now I'm back. In my bones, quite a lot I'd venture.
The immediate advantages of falsifying the past were obvious, but the ultimate motive was mysterious. Maybe one day soon they would know.
The former leader of airstrip one looked around in panic. There are three stages in your rehabilitation, said Boris, as the lights went out.
It was pure imagination, probably traceable in the beginning to lies circulated by Snowball. Napoleon knows the truth & would swear an oath.
As I've suggested in a previous life, so far so good, or so bad. But I can't help wondering if we are being swindled. Let's begin logically.
If I remember, one of the secrets of Napoleon's rule was to trust nobody, not even his close supporters. So you loyal followers, watch out!
There is a word in Newspeak to describe slavishly sitting around the cabinet table and bestowing praise on a leader. That word is duckspeak.
Surprisingly, the failed leader of airstrip one is still the leader today. Let's all raise a teacupful of Victory Gin to celebrate the news.
Hot from the twitter screen: the leader is about to celebrate his birthday. Thank you for the new, happy life that has been bestowed on us.
He pens-ively wondered whether he too would be required to attend a hearing at the Ministry of Love. These were nervous times in the Party.
The consul from antipodean Oceania was summoned. Only one of us is the winning-est. Repent or you will be declared an Enemy of the People.
Effectively immediately our friends are our enemies except in middle Eurasia where friends are now simultaneously our enemies. Winning big.
twitter 17.6.17 tweet contradictory rectify. twitter 18.6.17 tweet unintelligible rectify. twitter 19.6.17 tweet nonsensical all is normal.
As the pigs said, we eat apples and drink the milk not because we like them but so we can best care for you. Be thankful for our sacrifice.
What's happening? I don't know said Squealer. Napoleon no longer confides in me and I do not ask for his views on anything at all. Okay?
I'm feeling the urge to have a Thoughtcrime but there's so many possible choices. At least the 140 characters limits the damage. Down with B
Looking at the telescreen I realize I did not adequately foresee the impact of neoliberalism. Privatised telescreen is now called foxscreen.
Failed leader of airstrip one returns from the summit in Eurasia with her plan graded below expectations. A pretty pickle of her own making.
Story from far off Oceania of a leader who says he has handled a recording scandal well. BB might consider transferring him to airstrip one.
Squealer smiled at the animals. Napoleon looks after everyone. He will take some of your food away but we do not call it taking your food.
It is a good news day for party members. Cutting healthcare for the proles means better health the rich. All praise to miniplenty and BB.
Let's be clear about this. Smith colluded with Julia. O'Brien colluded with Smith. Minitrue's mission is to deprive the word of its meaning.
In a twist, Napoleon and BB are scheduled to meet next week to discuss the future of the world. Fiction? Once, one would have imagined so.
Na, na, na, na, said Napoleon to one of the sheep. Boxer looked away. This is wrong, he said despairingly. Others stood there embarrassed.
The poor performance at miniplenty has left the failed leader of airstrip one vulnerable. No more austerity, shouts the crowd of protesters.
Napoleon needs to know everything about the animals, said Squealer. What about men like Vladimir? No, he doesn't need to worry about that.
Now the animals began to worry about Napoleon. Clover and Muriel asked the sheep to give up some wool to help make padded walls for his sty.
Rogue Eastasian missile threatening Oceania and Eurasia. How fortunate that the leaders of Oceania and Eurasia see eye to eye on many things.
What is happening, I ask. No one seemed to know. I'm drawn toward the telescreen in the corner of the room. Or the screen with the keyboard.
The leader of Oceania has declared that the future of civilization depends on him. Be wary of Emmanuel Goldstein and any thinking people.
Look, said Squeaker, the yarn that a fat man in a bed may be to blame for all of this trouble can't last much longer. What do we do then?
All hail our leader who has returned from the summit of Oceania, Eurasia and Eastasia. It was tremendous. So much winning. Winningly bigly.
The failed leader of airstrip one, Tsar Vlad, and all the leaders of Eurasia and Eastasia repudiated the most powerful man on earth. So sad.
Head of Minitrue called to an appointment at Miniluv over her failure to divine whether the leader likes Russia or not. Who isn't confused.
Who has been talking to Pilkington, Napoleon asked his children. Not I, said one. Nor I, said another. All eyes turn to the next one. You?
Rasputin laughed.This is all going to plan, he told his confidant. What shall we do next? Don't we have some photographs from the old days?
The failed leader of airstrip one wept when she heard that people disliked her. But my duty is to ignore the people and carry on, she said.
People are so unfair to our leader, said Squealer. He only wants to collaborate with Pilkington so all of us on Animal Farm are better off.
Now I remember, said Napoleon's son. A man in a gorilla suit named Vlad attended the meeting. I'd forgotten he was there. It was so routine.
Plans to condemn Goldstein and the head of Minitrue for her failure to quell the FAKE news of Eurasian meddling. Lock her up! Quiet Junior.
It was a quiet day on the telescreen. No flash messages excoriating Goldstein. No announcement of new regulations. An extra ration of bacon.
Contrary to reports, the eighth man at the meeting wasn't Vlad in a gorilla suit. Rectified account identifies Mrs Goldstein in a pantsuit.
Minipax is at war with Miniplenty over rationing of band aids. Miniluv is offering to do away with patients altogether to solve the dispute.
Telescreen flash. Leader tells the Gotham Times the head of Miniliuv is unloved and should be excommunicated. He prefers talking to Boris.
Failed leader of Airstrip One voted the least popular thing on the island since the plague. Inquiring about possible relocation to Brussels.
Minitrue removed its spokesman. His praise for the leader was inadequate. Right message is that our leader speaks always and only the truth.
For transparency sake I am considering deleting all tweets critical of Napoleon. Then the past will be forgotten, unless Benjamin remembers.
I'm Squealer's replacement. Adore Napoleon as I do and the sun will shine, flowers will bloom, Vlad will vanish and we will be great again.
Why aren't you investigating Mrs Goldstein, the leader asked the beleaguered head of Miniluv. This is a witch hunt. Make sure you hunt her.
All praise the leader, shouted the leader youth movement children. Lock up traitors, lock up Gump, lock up Goldstein. You have our loyalty.
Leader Napoleon, who never saw battle and demeans military heroes, decided that everyone on the farm will be happiest if he is the general.
Boxer, silly old you. Don't you realise that you were meant to vote the other way. What were you thinking? Off to the glue factory with you.
You're fired, Napoleon's messenger said to the surrogate. You have betrayed Napoleon and prevented his true greatness from shining through.
Though the Party claims not to be satisfied with negative obedience and insists on erasing dissent, some of us know resistance will prevail.
Winston noticed a pattern. Golf day was the quietest day when attacks on Goldstein were most subdued and the telescreen was more benign
What happened to Squealer's replacement, asked Boxer. He was here yesterday singing Napoleon's praises. Off to the glue factory apparently.
I am the piggiest pig ever, said Napoleon. No pig has acted more piggily than me, except maybe Abraham pig. I am so pig. Just TREMENDOUS.
Leaders of all the other farms have been telephoning to praise my greatness, said Napoleon. But how? asked Boxer. We don't have a telephone.
This way, said the wily investigator to the orange-hued man. Room 101 is ready and waiting. We'll soon welcome you to the Ministry of Love.
You're next for the chop, the wily investigator said to the former general. We know about your indiscretion and admiration for Vlad. So sad.
Winston altered the text. Polls show our leader is undoubtedly the most popular and talented person there has ever been. Lock up Goldstein.
A quiet day of the week again. But there is no truth to the fake story that the greatest leader is on holiday. He labours for us constantly.
A new face filled the telescreen. Live from Gotham tower, a programme devoted to the story of our leader's greatness and beneficence. ENJOY!
Napoleon threw out his chest. I'll huff, and I'll puff, and I'll blow your house down, he threatened the tyrannical leader of the other farm
I shall release ice and fire, more ice and fire than all of the seasons of Game of Thrones put together, upon that smart cookie in Eastasia.
And if anything I should be even tougher on this smart cookie, said the glorious leader. Send him Jeff or Mitch. Or Gorka on a secondment.
Memo to Smith: ensure our leader's view that the threat of a missile attack will help to promote tourism in oceania is convincingly conveyed.
Napoleon turned to the animals. Let this be a lesson to any of you who harbour beliefs in foolish and outdated ideas like tolerance or love.
I denounce violence and hatred on all sides except where it is propagated by me, said the Oceanian leader. Then it is justified, believe me.
And I have always made it clear than I am against violence and hatred when it is dominating the telescreen and affecting my popularity. Sad.
Take 2. I have always found it in my heart to exculpate those many fine people who undertake acts of violence and hatred, said the leader.
What will we do today, Squealer asked Napoleon. Do you want to talk about the things you are planning for Manor Farm? Or rage maniacally?
Napoleon thought aloud. I agree we will take down all the monuments to men if that is what you want and replace them with monuments to me.
Do not harbour the illusion that you are my confidant, said the leader of Oceania. You, like Goldstein, are hereby an enemy. Off to Miniluv.