| The first excerpt represents the past or something you must release, and is drawn from War of the Worlds by H. G. Wells: machines are in most cases actuated by a sort of sham
musculature of the disks in an elastic sheath; these disks
become polarised and drawn closely and powerfully together
when traversed by a current of electricity. In this way the
curious parallelism to animal motions, which was so striking
and disturbing to the human beholder, was attained. Such
quasi-muscles abounded in the crablike handling-machine
which, on my first peeping out of the slit, I watched un-
packing the cylinder. It seemed infinitely more alive than the
actual Martians lying beyond it in the sunset light, panting,
stirring ineffectual tentacles, and moving feebly after their
War of the Worlds |
The second excerpt represents the present or the deciding factor of the moment, and is drawn from Animal Farm by George Orwell: in another part of the county. Except through Whymper, there was as yet no
contact between Animal Farm and the outside world, but there were constant
rumours that Napoleon was about to enter into a definite business agreement
either with Mr. Pilkington of Foxwood or with Mr. Frederick of
Pinchfield--but never, it was noticed, with both simultaneously.
It was about this time that the pigs suddenly moved into the farmhouse and
took up their residence there. Again the animals seemed to remember that a
resolution against this had been passed in the early days, and again
Squealer was able to convince them that this was not the case. It was
absolutely necessary, he said, that the pigs, who were the brains of the
farm, should have a quiet place to work in. It was also more suited to the
Animal Farm |
The third excerpt represents the future or something you must embrace, and is drawn from Philosophy 4 by Owen Wister: sun that made them hot now, and no lamp or gas; and already they looked
twice as alive as they had looked at breakfast. There they sat, while
their memories gripped the summarized list of facts essential, facts to
be known accurately; the simple, solid, raw facts, which, should they
happen to come on the examination paper, no skill could evade nor any
imagination supply. But this study was no longer dry and dreadful to
them: they had turned it to a sporting event. "What about Heracleitos?"
Billy as catechist would put at Bertie. "Eternal flux," Bertie would
correctly snap back at Billy. Or, if he got it mixed up, and replied,
"Everything is water," which was the doctrine of another Greek, then
Billy would credit himself with twenty-five cents on a piece of paper.
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