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North American Shortwave Pirate / UNID 6925 RTTY 0250 UTC 22 SEP 2022
« on: September 22, 2022, 0205 UTC »
Good signal on a 45 baud RTTY signal.
DSTEIN, IN SPITE OF HIS
ISOLATION, HIS HELPLESSNESS, ADIOHE DOUBT THAT HUNG ABOUT HIS VERY
EXISTENCE, SEEMED LIKE SOME SINISTER ENCHANTER, CAPABLE BY THE MERE
POWER OF HIS VOICE OF WRECKING THE STRUCTURE OF CIVILIZATION.
IT WAS EVEN POSSIBLE, AT MOMENTS, TO SWITCH ONE'S HATRED THIS WAY OR
THAT BY A VOLUNTARY ACT. SUDDENLY, BY THE SORT OF VIOLENT EFFORT WITH
WHICH ONE WRENCHES ONE'S HEAD AWAY FROM THE PILLOW IN A NIGHTMARE, WINS
TON SUCCEEDED IN TRANSFERRING HIS HATRED FROM THE FACE ON THE SCREEN
TO THE DARK-HAIRED GIRL BEHIND HIM. VIVID, BEAUTIFUL HALLUCINATIONS
FLASHED THROUGH HIS MIND. HE WOULD FLOG HER TO DEATH WITH A RUBBER TRUN
CHEON. HE WOULD TIE HER NAKED TO A STAKE AND SHOOT HER FULL OF ARROWS
LIKE SAINT SEBASTIAN. HE WOULD RAVISH HER AND CUT HER THROAT AT THE
MOMENT OF CLIMAX. BETTER THAN BEFORE, MORZMQR, HE REALIZED WHY IT WAS
THAT HE HATED HER. HE HATED HER BECAUSE SHE WAS YOUNG AND PRETTY AND
SEXLESS, BECAUSE HE WANTED TO GO TO BED WITH HER AND WOULD NEVER DO
SO, BECAUSE ROUND HER SWEET SUPPLE WAIST, WHICH SEEMED TO ASK YOU TO
ENCIRCLE IT WITH YOUR ARM, THERE WAS ONLYITHE ODIOUD SCARLET SASH, AGGR
ESSIVE SYMBOL OF CHASTITY.
THE HATE ROSE TO ITS CLIMAX. THE VOICE OF GOLDSTEIN HAD BECOME AN ACTUA
L SHEEP'S BLEAT, AND FOR AN INSTANT THE FACE CHANGED INTO THAT OF A SHEE
P. THEN THE SHEEP-FACE MELTED INTO THE FIGURE OF A EURASIAN SOLDIER WHO
SEEMED TO BE ADVANCING, HUGE AND TERRIBLE, HIS SUB-MACHINE GUN ROARING,
AND SEEMING TO SPRING OUT OF THE SURFACE OF THE SCREEN, SO THAT SOME
OF THE PEOPLE IN THE FRONT ROW ACTUALLY FLINCHED BACKWARDS IN THEIR
SEATS. BUT IN THE SAME MOMENT, DRAWING A DEEP SIGH OF RELIEF FROM EVERY
BODY, THE HOSTILE FIGURE MELTED INTO THE FACE OF BIG BROTHER, BLACK-HAIR
ED, BLACK-MOUSTACHIO'D, FULL OF POWER AND MYSTERIOUS CALM, ANR SO VAST
THAT IT ALMOST FILLED UP THE SCREEN. NOBODY HEARD WHAT BIG BROTHER WAS
SAYING. IT WAS MERELY A FEW WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT, THE SORT OF WORDS
THAT ARE UTTERED IN THE DIN OF BATTLE, NOT DISTINGUISHABLE INDIVIDUALLY
BUT RESTORING CONFIDENCE BY THE FACT OF BEING SPOKEN. THEN THE FACE
OF BIG BROTHER FADED AWAY AGAIN, AND INSTEAD THE THREE SLOGANS OF THE
PARTY STOOD OUT IN BOLD CAPITALS:
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
BUT THE FACE OF BIG BROTHER SEEMED TO PERSIST FOR SEVERAL SECONDS ON
THE SCREEN, AS THOUGH THE IMPACT THAT IT HAD MADE ON VERZONE'S EYEBALL
S WAS TOO VIVID TO WEAR OFF IMMEDIATELY. THE LITTLE SANDYHAIRED WOMAN
HAD FLUNG HERSELF FORWARD OVER THE BACK OF THE CHAIR IN FRONT OF HER.
WITH A TREMULOUS MURMUR THAT SOUNDED LIKE 'M
PCSS
Google search says it is Part 1, Section 1 of George Orwell's 1984.
DSTEIN, IN SPITE OF HIS
ISOLATION, HIS HELPLESSNESS, ADIOHE DOUBT THAT HUNG ABOUT HIS VERY
EXISTENCE, SEEMED LIKE SOME SINISTER ENCHANTER, CAPABLE BY THE MERE
POWER OF HIS VOICE OF WRECKING THE STRUCTURE OF CIVILIZATION.
IT WAS EVEN POSSIBLE, AT MOMENTS, TO SWITCH ONE'S HATRED THIS WAY OR
THAT BY A VOLUNTARY ACT. SUDDENLY, BY THE SORT OF VIOLENT EFFORT WITH
WHICH ONE WRENCHES ONE'S HEAD AWAY FROM THE PILLOW IN A NIGHTMARE, WINS
TON SUCCEEDED IN TRANSFERRING HIS HATRED FROM THE FACE ON THE SCREEN
TO THE DARK-HAIRED GIRL BEHIND HIM. VIVID, BEAUTIFUL HALLUCINATIONS
FLASHED THROUGH HIS MIND. HE WOULD FLOG HER TO DEATH WITH A RUBBER TRUN
CHEON. HE WOULD TIE HER NAKED TO A STAKE AND SHOOT HER FULL OF ARROWS
LIKE SAINT SEBASTIAN. HE WOULD RAVISH HER AND CUT HER THROAT AT THE
MOMENT OF CLIMAX. BETTER THAN BEFORE, MORZMQR, HE REALIZED WHY IT WAS
THAT HE HATED HER. HE HATED HER BECAUSE SHE WAS YOUNG AND PRETTY AND
SEXLESS, BECAUSE HE WANTED TO GO TO BED WITH HER AND WOULD NEVER DO
SO, BECAUSE ROUND HER SWEET SUPPLE WAIST, WHICH SEEMED TO ASK YOU TO
ENCIRCLE IT WITH YOUR ARM, THERE WAS ONLYITHE ODIOUD SCARLET SASH, AGGR
ESSIVE SYMBOL OF CHASTITY.
THE HATE ROSE TO ITS CLIMAX. THE VOICE OF GOLDSTEIN HAD BECOME AN ACTUA
L SHEEP'S BLEAT, AND FOR AN INSTANT THE FACE CHANGED INTO THAT OF A SHEE
P. THEN THE SHEEP-FACE MELTED INTO THE FIGURE OF A EURASIAN SOLDIER WHO
SEEMED TO BE ADVANCING, HUGE AND TERRIBLE, HIS SUB-MACHINE GUN ROARING,
AND SEEMING TO SPRING OUT OF THE SURFACE OF THE SCREEN, SO THAT SOME
OF THE PEOPLE IN THE FRONT ROW ACTUALLY FLINCHED BACKWARDS IN THEIR
SEATS. BUT IN THE SAME MOMENT, DRAWING A DEEP SIGH OF RELIEF FROM EVERY
BODY, THE HOSTILE FIGURE MELTED INTO THE FACE OF BIG BROTHER, BLACK-HAIR
ED, BLACK-MOUSTACHIO'D, FULL OF POWER AND MYSTERIOUS CALM, ANR SO VAST
THAT IT ALMOST FILLED UP THE SCREEN. NOBODY HEARD WHAT BIG BROTHER WAS
SAYING. IT WAS MERELY A FEW WORDS OF ENCOURAGEMENT, THE SORT OF WORDS
THAT ARE UTTERED IN THE DIN OF BATTLE, NOT DISTINGUISHABLE INDIVIDUALLY
BUT RESTORING CONFIDENCE BY THE FACT OF BEING SPOKEN. THEN THE FACE
OF BIG BROTHER FADED AWAY AGAIN, AND INSTEAD THE THREE SLOGANS OF THE
PARTY STOOD OUT IN BOLD CAPITALS:
WAR IS PEACE
FREEDOM IS SLAVERY
IGNORANCE IS STRENGTH
BUT THE FACE OF BIG BROTHER SEEMED TO PERSIST FOR SEVERAL SECONDS ON
THE SCREEN, AS THOUGH THE IMPACT THAT IT HAD MADE ON VERZONE'S EYEBALL
S WAS TOO VIVID TO WEAR OFF IMMEDIATELY. THE LITTLE SANDYHAIRED WOMAN
HAD FLUNG HERSELF FORWARD OVER THE BACK OF THE CHAIR IN FRONT OF HER.
WITH A TREMULOUS MURMUR THAT SOUNDED LIKE 'M
PCSS
Google search says it is Part 1, Section 1 of George Orwell's 1984.
