2001 Lingua Inglese
2001 Lingua Inglese
2001 Lingua Inglese
…It was a bright cold day in April, and the clocks were striking thirteen. Winston
Smith, his chin nuzzled into his breast in an effort to escape the wild wind, slipped
quickly through the glass doors of Victory Mansions, though not quickly enough to
prevent a swirl of gritty dust from entering along with him.
The hallway smelt of boiled cabbage and old rag mats. At one end of it a coloured
poster, too large for indoor display, had been tackled to the wall. It depicted simply an
enormous face, more than a metre wide: the face of a man of about forty-five, with a
heavy black moustache and ruggedly handsome features. Winston made for the stairs. It
was no use trying the lift. Even at the best of times it was seldom working, and at
present the electric current was cut off during daylight hours. It was part of the economy
drive in preparation for Hate Week. The flat was seven flights up, and Winston, who
was thirty-nine and had a varicose ulcer above his right ankle, went slowly, resting
several times on the way. On each landing, opposite the lift-shaft, the poster with the
enormous face gazed from the wall. It was one of those pictures which are so contrived
that the eyes follow about when you move. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the
caption beneath it ran.
Inside the flat a fruity voice was reading out a list of figures which had something to do
with the production of pig-iron. The voice came from an oblong metal plaque like a
dulled mirror which formed part of the surface of the right-hand wall. Winston turned a
switch and the voice sank somewhat, though the words were still distinguishable. The
instrument (the telescreen, it was called) could be dimmed but there was no way of
shutting it off completely. He moved over to the window: a smallish, frail figure, the
meagreness of his body merely emphasized by the blue overalls which were the uniform
of the Party. His hair was very fair, his face naturally sanguine, his skin roughened by
coarse soap and blunt razor blades and the cold of the winter that had just ended.
Outside, even through the shut window-pane, the world looked cold. Down in the street
little eddies of wind were whirling dust and torn paper into spirals and though the sun
was shining and the sky a harsh blue, there seemed to be no colour in anything, except
the posters that were plastered everywhere. The blackmoustachio’d face gazed down
from every commanding corner. There was one on the house-front immediately
opposite. BIG BROTHER IS WATCHING YOU, the caption said, while the dark eyes
looked deep into Winston’s own. Down at street level another poster, torn at one corner,
flapped fitfully in the wind, alternately covering and uncovering the single word
INGSOC. In the far distance a helicopter skimmed down between the roofs, hovered for
an instant like a bluebottle, and darted away again with a curving flight. It was the
police patrol, snooping into the people’s windows. The patrols did not matter, however.
Only the Thought Police mattered...
Il testo è tratto da George ORWELL, “Nineteen Eighty-four”
ESAME DI STATO DI LICEO LINGUISTICO
The Internet was supposed to be all about freedom. That is why governments want to regulate it.
It is far from certain whether freedom, or government control, will win the day
In 1967 Roy Bates, a retired British army major, occupied an island fortress six miles off the
English coast and declared it a sovereign nation. He was never sure what to do with his
Principality of Sealand. Now, however, the fortress may have found its calling. For several
months, a firm called HavenCo has been operating a data centre there. Anyone who wants to
keep a website or other data out of the reach of national governments can rent space on the
servers that hum in one of the concrete pillars.
In the mid-1990s, Sealand would have been seen as yet more proof that the Internet cannot be
regulated. If a country tried to censor digital content, the data would simply hop to a more
liberal jurisdiction. These days, the data principality symbolises just the opposite: the days of
unrestricted freedom on the Internet are numbered, except, perhaps, in odd places like Sealand.
It seems likely that 2000 will be remembered as the year when governments started to regulate
cyberspace in earnest; and forgot, in the process, that the reason the worldwide network became
such an innovative force at all was a healthy mix of self-regulation and no regulation. In Britain,
the Regulation of Investigatory Powers Act now gives the police broad access to e-mail and
other online communications. South Korea has outlawed access to gambling websites. The
United States has passed a law requiring schools and libraries that receive federal funds for
Internet connections to install software on their computers to block material harmful to the
young.
This year, governments are turning their attention to the many jurisdictional problems created
by the Internet. These have been emphasised by a French ruling against Yahoo! on November
20th. The French court ordered the Internet portal firm to find some way of banning French users
from seeing the Nazi memorabilia posted on its American sites, or face a daily fine of
FFr100,000 ($13,000) from the end of February. Yahoo! is fighting the case, even though it has
now stopped sales of Nazi memorabilia.
The case could be a taste of things to come. Under a new EU law, for example, European
consumers may now sue EU-based Internet sites in their own countries, and the rule may well
be extended internationally. The United States has just endorsed the gist of the Council of
Europe’s cybercrime treaty, which aims to harmonise laws against hacking, Internet fraud and
child pornography.
All this is a far cry from what leading Internet thinkers prophesied only five years ago. “You
(governments) have no moral right to rule us nor do you possess any methods of enforcement
we have true reason to fear,” proclaimed John Perry Barlow in his 1996 “Declaration of
Independence of cyberspace”. Libertarian thinking also ran through early Internet scholarship.
David Post and David Johnson, law professors at Temple University in Philadelphia and
Georgetown University respectively, argued in that same year that cyberspace was a distinct
place that needed laws and legal institutions entirely of its own.