1984 (3,1) The Razor Blade

Here we see the harder, colder side of life in the holding cell.

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There were moments when he foresaw the things that would happen to him with such actuality that his heart galloped and his breath stopped. He felt the smash of truncheons on his elbows and iron-shod boots on his shins; he saw himself groveling on the floor screaming for mercy through broken teeth.

He hardly thought of Julia. He could not fix his mind on her. He loved her and would not betray her; but that was only a fact, known as he knew the rules of arithmetic. He felt no love for her, and he hardly even wondered what was happening to her.

He thought oftener of O’Brien, with a flickering hope. O’Brien must know that he had been arrested. The Brotherhood, he had said, never tried to save its members. But there was the razor blade; they would send the razor blade if they could. There would be perhaps five seconds before the guards could rush into the cell. The blade would bite into him with a sort of burning coldness, and even the fingers that held it would be cut to the bone. Everything came back to his sick body, which shrank trembling from the smallest pain. He was not certain that he would use the razor blade even if he got the chance. It was more natural to exist from moment to moment, accepting another ten minutes’ life even with the certainty that there was torture at the end of it.

-- “1984” by George Orwell

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I have thought a little more about what is happening to Julia, but I have a dirty mind and I like ‘women in prison’ movies.

71. College Days

Neckties come to mind. I remember when I felt I needed to learn how to tie one on, convinced that I had outgrown the snap-on ties. This may have been as late as when I was getting ready for law school, but it could have been much earlier, perhaps when I was getting ready to begin college. Jack somehow picked up the skill, and he was the one who actually instructed me in the art. However, as it turns out, I never had need for it, and if pressed, I could not put one on now to save my life.

But it does not matter. A dark-colored T-shirt suffices me for my most formal occasions, whether it is going to the library downtown, or going to an ‘ALL YOU CAN EAT!’ buffet with pop. I just have to make sure that I don’t have any holes in it. That would be so gauche. Ah, but that happy expectation of climbing up the social ladder, of moving on up in the world! All of which is so sadly funny now. I cry more than I laugh, but I know it is funny too.

Elvis

“We got so wrapped up in kissing on our very first date — nothing too sloppy, it was just marvelous — a little pecking here and there, a nibble here and there, then a serious bite. ‘He was a magnificent kisser’. ‘He said, ‘Who taught you how to kiss?’ And I said, ‘You know, I was just getting ready to ask you the same thing’.”

-- June Juanico talking about the night she met Elvis Presley