Brilliance, I tell you. Sheer brilliance.
In this discourse, Orwell discusses the simple travesty that modern (modern= 1935) language has become. He condemns meaningless words, cliche metaphors, and pretentious diction (of which I am thoroughly guilty, I know). He proceeds to explain how ineffective language and speech, though manufactured to flaunt an inexistent intelligence, builds a society benumbed to what it is being told, and therefore in a state ready to be manipulated. I read on, touched by the sincerity in his disgust for bad writing, and intrigued by the intelligent relation to the political sphere. His rant is one not about the typical deterioration, per say, of our language, but rather of the superfluous pretenses we endeavor to stuff into our writing and everyday language. Reading the scrumptious morsel of biting satire was delightful, and I was inspired to write. I never did, because I'm a lazy mongrel too busy with nothing to expand my horizons and whatnot, but I was inspired all the same. I don't know why I'm rambling on here when you can read the discourse for yourself here. I encourage you to indulge yourself in this marvelous critique of the widespread philosophe. Following is a collection of my favorite bits:
- "In our time, political speech and writing are largely the defense of the indefensible."
- "When one watches some tired hack on the platform mechanically repeating [familiar] phrases one often has a curious feeling that one is not watching a live human being but some kind of dummy: a feeling which suddenly becomes stronger at moments when the light catches the speaker's spectacles and turns them into blank discs which seem to have no eyes behind them."
- "The great enemy of clear language is insincerity"
- "In our age there is no such thing as "keeping out of politics." All issues are political issues, and politics itself is a mass of lies, evasions, folly, hatred, and schizophrenia. "
A couple days later, I received an email from a certain Benny K, asking if he could post a link to my blog and inviting me to check out his. He noted that I sucked at updating (in a tactful, polite manner). I glanced over his blog, which is also nothing short of a scrumptious morsel of biting satire, and I was once again inspired to write. I can only ignore inspiration so long.
As I struggle to articulate I see what my lack of discipline and willingness to write has done to my ability, and it's sad. I will try, quite honestly, to resume posting regularly. You have this newly-motivated twit's promise.