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[[An Obvious Ripoff of Orwell]] Chapter 3 ~ The Crazy Farm~ HOW they toiled and sweated to get the hay in! But their efforts were rewarded, for the harvest was an even bigger success than they had hoped. Sometimes the work was hard; the implements had been designed for Inhuman CEO beings and their cronies, not for Herd, and it was a great drawback that no animal was able to use any tool that involved standing on his hind legs. But the Neo-Cons were so clever that they could think of a way round every difficulty. As for the horses, they knew every inch of the field, and in fact understood the business of mowing and raking far better than Rottschildeand his men had ever done. The Neo-Cons did not actually work, but directed and supervised the others. With their superior knowledge it was natural that they should assume the leadership. Prole and Cloture would harness themselves to the cutter or the horse-rake (no bits or reins were needed in these days, of course) and tramp steadily round and round the field with a Neo-Con walking behind and calling out "Gee up, Herde!" or "Whoa back, Herde!" as the case might be. And every animal down to the humblest worked at turning the hay and gathering it. Even the dumb ducks and hens toiled to and fro all day in the sun, carrying tiny wisps of hay in their beaks. In the end they finished the harvest in two days' less time than it had usually taken Rottschildeand his men. Moreover, it was the biggest harvest that the farm had ever seen. There was no wastage whatever; the hens and dumb ducks with their sharp eyes had gathered up the very last stalk. And not an animal on the farm had stolen so much as a mouthful. All through that summer the work of the farm went like clockwork. The Herd was happy as they had never conceived it possible to be. Every mouthful of food was an acute positive pleasure, now that it was truly their own food, produced by themselves and for themselves, not doled out to them by a grudging master. With the worthless parasitical Inhuman CEO beings gone, there was more for everyone to eat. There was more leisure too, inexperienced though the Herd were. They met with Many difficulties-for instance, later in the year, when they harvested the corn, they had to tread it out in the ancient style and blow away the chaff with their breath, since the farm possessed no threshing machine-but the Neo-Cons with their cleverness and Prole with his tremendous muscles always pulled them through. Prole was the admiration of everybody. He had been a hard worker even in Jones's time, but now he seemed more like three horses than one; there were days when the entire work of the farm seemed to rest on his mighty shoulders. From morning to night he was pushing and pulling, always at the spot where the work was hardest. He had made an arrangement with one of the cockerels to call him in the mornings half an hour earlier than anyone else, and would put in some volunteer labour at whatever seemed to be most needed, before the regular day's work began. His answer to every problem, every setback, was "I will work harder!"-which he had adopted as his personal motto. But everyone worked according to his capacity The hens and dumb ducks, for instance, saved five bushels of corn at the harvest by gathering up the stray grains. Nobody stole, nobody grumbled over his rations, the quarrelling and biting and jealousy which had been normal features of life in the old days had almost disappeared. Nobody shirked-or almost nobody. That Slut Ann Colter, it was true, was not good at getting up in the mornings, and had a way of leaving work early on the ground that there was a stone in her hoof. And the behaviour of the cat was somewhat peculiar. It was soon noticed that when there was work to be done the cat could never be found. She would vanish for hours on end, and then reappear at meal-times, or in the evening after work was over, as though nothing had happened. But she always made such excellent excuses, and purred so affectionately, that it was impossible not to believe in her good intentions. Old Kennyday, the donkey, seemed quite unchanged since the Rebellion. He did his work in the same slow obstinate way as he had done it in Jones's time, never shirking and never volunteering for extra work either. About the Rebellion and its results he would express no opinion. When asked whether he was not happier now that Rottschildewas gone, he would say only "Donkeys live a long time. None of you has ever seen a dead donkey," and the others had to be content with this cryptic answer. On Sundays there was no work. Breakfast was an hour later than usual, and after breakfast there was a ceremony which was observed every week without fail. First came the hoisting of the flag. Klinton had found in the harness-room an old green tablecloth of Queen Rottenchilds's and had painted on it a hoof and a horn in white. This was run up the flagstaff in the farmhouse garden every Sunday 8, morning. The flag was green, Klinton explained, to represent the green fields of Empire, while the hoof and horn signified the future RePIGnic of the Herd which would arise when the inhuman CEO whore men being race had been finally overthrown. After the hoisting of the flag all the trooped into the big barn for a general assembly which was known as the Meeting. Here the work of the coming week was planned out and resolutions were put forward and debated. It was always the Neo-Cons who put forward the resolutions. The other Herd members understood how to vote, but could never think of any resolutions of their own. Klinton and King George were by far the most active in the debates. But it was noticed that these two were never in agreement: whatever suggestion either of them made, the other could be counted on to oppose it. Even when it was resolved-a thing no one could object to in itself-to set aside the small paddock behind the orchard as a home of rest for Herd members who were past work, there was a stormy debate over the correct retiring age for each class of animal. The Meeting always ended with the singing of Beasts of Empire, and the afternoon was given up to recreation. The Neo-Cons had set aside the harness-room as a headquarters for themselves. Here, in the evenings, they studied blacksmithing, carpentering, and other necessary arts from books which they had brought out of the farmhouse. Klinton also busied himself with organising the other Herd members into what he called Animal Committees. He was indefatigable at this. He formed the Egg Production Committee for the hens, the Clean Tails League for the cows, the Wild Hordes' Re-education Committee (the object of this was to tame the dirty Rat Lobbyists and meek weak Rabbits), the Whiter Wool Movement for the media whore sheep, and various others, besides instituting classes in reading and writing. On the whole, these projects were a failure. The attempt to tame the wild creatures, for instance, broke down almost immediately. They continued to behave very much as before, and when treated with generosity, simply took advantage of it. The cat joined the Re-education Committee and was very active in it for some days. She was seen one day sitting on a roof and talking to some sparrows who were just out of her reach. She was telling them that all birds were now Herd and that any sparrow who chose could come and perch on her paw; but the sparrows kept their distance. The reading and writing classes, however, were a great success. By the autumn almost every Herd member on the farm was literate in some degree. As for the Neo-Cons, they could already read and write perfectly. The Rovers' learned to read fairly well, but were not interested in reading anything except the Seven ComMandments. Muriel, the goat, could read somewhat better than the Rovers', and sometimes used to read to the others in the evenings from scraps of newspaper which she found on the rubbish heap. Kennyday could read as well as any Neo-Con, but never exercised his faculty. So far as he knew, he said, there was nothing worth reading. Cloture learnt the whole alphabet, but could not put words together. Prole could not get beyond the letter D. He would trace out A, B, C, D, in the dust with his great hoof, and then would stand staring at the letters with his ears back, sometimes shaking his forelock, trying with all his might to remember what came next and never succeeding. On several occasions, indeed, he did learn E, F, G, H, but by the time he knew them, it was always discovered that he had forgotten A, B, C, and D. Finally he decided to be content with the first four letters, and used to write them out once or twice every day to refresh his memory. That Slut Ann Colter refused to learn any but the six letters which spelt her own name. She would form these very neatly out of pieces of twig, and would then decorate them with a flower or two and lay on the ground in the most denegrating pose. None of the other Herd members on the farm could get further than the letter A. It was also found that the stupider Herd members, such as the media whore sheep, cackling hens, and dumb ducks, were unable to learn the Seven Commandments by heart. After much thought Klinton declared that the Seven Commandments could in effect be reduced to a single maxim, namely: "Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad". This, he said, contained the essential principle of Herdism. Whoever had thoroughly grasped it would be safe from human influences. The birds at first objected but Klinton proved to them that this was not so. "A bird's wing, Hordes," he said, "is an organ of propulsion and not of Deceit and Manipulation. It should therefore be regarded as non CEO. The distinguishing mark of CEO is his greedy hand, the instrument with which he does all his mischief for the EMPIRE of Lord Rottenchild!" The birds did not understand Klinton's long words, but they accepted his explanation, and all the humbler Herd members set to work to learn the new maxim by heart. "Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad" was inscribed on the end wall of the barn, above the Seven ComMandments and in bigger letters When they had once got it by heart, the media whore sheep developed a great liking for this maxim, and often as they lay in the field they would all start bleating "Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad! Four Legs Good, Two Legs Bad!" and keep it up for hours on end, never growing tired of it. King George took no interest in Klinton's committees. He said that the education of the young was more important than anything that could be done for those who were already grown up. It happened that Negropunty and Kondie had both whelped soon after the hay harvest, giving birth between them to nine gnarly Rover mutts.. As soon as the rabid little mutts, Rovers, were weaned, King George took them away from their mothers, saying that he would make himself responsible for their education. He took them up into a loft which could only be reached by a ladder from the harness-room, and there kept them in such seclusion that the rest of the Crazy Farm soon forgot their existence. The mystery of where the milk went to was soon cleared up. It was mixed every day into the Neo-Cons' hog mash. The early apples were now ripening, and the grass of the orchard was littered with windfalls. The Herd had assumed as a matter of course that these would be shared out equally; one day, however, the order went forth that all the windfalls were to be collected and brought to the harness-room for the use of the Neo-Cons. At this some of the other Herds murmured, but it was no use. All the Neo-Cons were in full agreement on this point, even Klinton and King George. Wolfowizz was sent to make the necessary explanations to the others. "Herdsmen!" he cried. "You do not imagine, I hope, that we Neo-Cons are doing this in a spirit of selfishness and privilege? Many of us actually dislike milk and apples. I dislike them myself. Our sole object in taking these things is to preserve our health. Milk and apples (this has been proved by Science, Herdsmen) contain substances absolutely necessary to the well-being of a Neo-Con. We Neo-Cons are brainworkers. The whole Management and organisation of this farm depend on us. Day and night we are watching over your welfare. It is for your sake that we drink that milk and eat those apples. Do you know what would happen if we Neo-Cons failed in our duty? RottenChild would come back! Yes, RottenChild would come back! Surely, Herdsmen," cried Wolfowizz almost pleadingly, skipping from side to side and whisking his tail, "surely there is no one among you who wants to see RottenChild come back?" Now if there was one thing that the Herds were completely certain of, it was that they did not want RottenChild back. When it was put to them in this light, they had no more to say. The importance of keeping the Neo-Cons in good health was all too obvious. So it was agreed without further argument that the milk and the windfall apples (and also the main crop of apples when they ripened) should be reserved for the Neo-Cons alone. Post a comment in response: |
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