"It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen."

From the first sentence of George Orwell's classic novel 1984, things are a little off. About a month ago I decided to pull the novel off the old bookshelf. It was the third time I'd read the chilling tale about Winston's struggle with The Party in Oceania. The first read came in high school, and to be honest, I just didn't retain much more than the Cliff Notes explained. The second time was in my early twenties when my angst and frustration with life reigned supreme, and revolution seemed the only way to fix it. Now as a thirty-year-old man, the tale mimicked reality like never before.

"How could you communicate with the future? It was of its nature impossible. Either the future would resemble the present, in which case it would not listen to him, or it would be different from it, and his predicament would be meaningless."

Have you ever asked questions, serious questions, about the way things are? Have you tried to remember if it was better at another time? Have you ever hoped for a different government? What year is it? What year is it really?

My government has been stroking me with the fear factor for the last three years. My natural reaction to anyone's initiative is balance. If you yell at me, I get extremely calm. If you become passive, I become aggressive. I am not afraid for my safety, I do not believe The White House press releases, and I don't need an enemy of the state to express my patriotism.

"He was a primal traitor, the earliest defiler of the Party's purity. All subsequent crimes against the Party, all treacheries, acts of sabotage, heresies, deviations sprang directly out of his teaching. Somewhere or other he was still alive and hatching his conspiracies: perhaps somewhere beyond the sea, under the protection of his foreign paymasters; perhaps even--so it was occasionally rumored--in some hiding place in Oceania itself."

No, no, it's not Osama bin Laden. It's Emmanuel Goldstein, the Enemy of the State. The description is uncanny, though, don't you think? 1984 was only twenty years ago.

We all need a rallying cry. We all need ways to be. We all need that rarely attained reason for being. So we look to others to tell us what to do. Some people are very eager to tell you how to think and be. Surprise, surprise, they want you to think exactly like them. Most of it is just a myth.

"Life, if you looked around you, bore no resemblance not only to the lies that streamed out of the telescreens, but even to the ideals that the Party was trying to achieve."

And we believe the myth...

"The Lottery, with its weekly payout of enormous prizes, was the one public event to which the proles paid serious attention. It was probable that there were millions of proles for whom The Lottery was the principle if not the only reason for remaining alive."

Where is the passion? We go to movies, we watch TV, attend sporting events, receive education, earn a wage, buy merchandise, accumulate debt, and settle in a routine. All the passion is controlled and regulated. Genuine passion is dangerous.

"Almost as swiftly as he imagined it, she had torn her clothes off, and when she flung them aside it was with that same magnificent gesture by which a whole civilization could be annihilated."

Our potential leaders debate, accuse, and smear each other. They say one thing on one side of their mouth, and if it turns out to be unpopular, they switch to the other side of their mouth. How can they do it? Doublethink.

"Doublethink means the power of holding two contradictory beliefs in one's mind simultaneously, and accepting both of them."

Why do they do it? Why do we go to war with countries far away? Why does our government make the choices it does?

"The Party seeks power entirely for its own sake. We are not interested in the good of others; we are interested solely in power. Not wealth or luxury or long life or happiness; only power, pure power."

If you don't fall in line, you are a troublemaker. You are a traitor. You are a unpatriotic miscreant and a thought criminal. The solution is simple.

"You must love Big Brother. It is not enough to obey him; you must love him."

It's amazing how one well-written 55-year-old book can put so much of today's world into a chilling perspective. The time-line of the story takes place about twenty years ago, but I learned one major concept from this reread: No matter what the year, it's 1984.

Chris Jungle is a thought criminal.