At the bottom of the year
It is 55° f and the rain is washing away the last of the snow. It tastes like April. I’ve been reading Orwell’s diaries, especially the entries from the end when he was writing ‘Nineteen Eighty Four’ just before he died. He is near the top of any list of my favorite writers no matter how you want to compile it; as a novelist he is without peer and the ideas in his books are far more sophisticated than those of say, Ayn Rand, a hack who cultivated a cult of personality. Orwell doesn’t care if we agree with his aesthetics or embrace his philosophies; rather, he produced a body of work that gave us a vocabulary and context for understanding the modern world. That both leftists and right-wingers embrace his ideas as their own is evidence of his greatness; his ideas are too large to be contained in a single point of view.
Tonight is very low key. I’m hanging out with the dog and cat. And the PS3. Happy New Year everyone.